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Welcome to my humble internet portfolio. I'm a starving graphic designer not looking to go hungry. My rates are pretty low, and I work quickly.
I also write a little on the side. Don't ask me anything.
Also, don't follow me on twitter. I'm a pretty obnoxious person.
I hope you enjoy my work as much as I do creating them.
One of the best things about a movie—besides the storyline, eye-candy, and explosions—is the music. The music makes the movie memorable because the audience can relive the movie on-the-go by just listening to the soundtrack. With a plethora of movies under my belt, I look back and speculate what would be the theme music of my life. Immediately, the music by Two Steps From Hell comes to mind, but they are an orchestral group; and I don’t know enough music theory to parallel the crescendos, decrescendos, repeated melodies, and harmonies to adequately explain why the music fits my life. Instead, I asked myself, and those closest to me, what are my three loves? The results are unanimous. A soundtrack of my life would showcase my love for money, power, and food.
Since I hold money close to the hole in my chest, where a heart should be, I will begin my soundtrack with my love of money. The perfect opening to set the mood of my soundtrack would be the 50’s classic from Lefty Frizzell, If You Got the Money, I Got the Time. The title being self-explanatory, if there is no money involved, I have no interest in the matter. I’m always trying to find ways to make money. However, my pockets are similar to Tevye, a poor Jewish man from the musical Fiddler on the Roof. Not only are the contents of our pockets similar, but also we share a dream of wealth in order to buy goods from the material world. I often wonder If I Were A Rich Man could I ever be like Madonna the Material Girl? Alas, my riches are fantastical, so Donna Summer is a great role model for me because She Works Hard for the Money. My high-class taste comes with a high-class price. Basically, money is everything to me. So since the love money is the root of all evil, I guess that makes me a pretty despicable person.
With wads of hypothetical cash stuffed in my pockets, power comes easily after money. Power is the second of my trinity of love. The perfect song to transition from working hard for the greens into place of power would be Billy Joel’s song Pressure. The song illustrates a destitute person who works hard into a position of power. Like Scar from the Lion King, I plan to Be Prepared as I blueprint my steps into success. I don’t want to be caught off guard as I rise into a better position in life. I will Bop to the Top in the words of Sharpay from Disney’s High School Musical. I will do ‘anything it takes to climb the ladder of success.’ And as every step falls into place, I’m comforted by the fact I’m Almost There like Tiana chasing her dreams to go from rags to riches, or in her case from a frog to a princess. Unfortunately, since many have pointed out that power corrupts and that absolute power corrupts absolutely, I guess that just reinforces the fact that I’m a vile, loathsome person.
While I’m sitting on a throne made entirely of currency, it only makes sense to indulge myself with mountains of food. My truest weakness is food, but not just any food: delicious food. I can be bribed by food much more easily than money or power. I don’t eat to live; I live to eat. If I had a heart, it would be made entirely of food, specifically Peaches. The band The Presidents of the United States of America glorifies this heavenly fruit through song. They even go so far as to hint that the sweet, juicy fruit of peaches could be compared to making love with a woman. Because of my illusionary piles of cash sitting around me from my make-believe power job, I can have all the theoretical food I want and Eat It all like in Weird Al’s parody of Michael Jackson’s song. I’ll have the All You Can Eat mentality as the Fat Boys’ tune plays when I eat the perfect Cheeseburger with Jimmy Buffet. I would intentionally overindulge from the gratification of food without a care for the hungry souls that wander the streets barely getting by like the citizens of the Capital from the hit series The Hunger Games. Not only am I a greedy, power-hungry individual, but also am I an enormous glutton. I must be president Snow, except female.
My soundtrack would regrettably depict a dreadful individual who is obsessed with wealth, prestige, and cuisine. If my soundtrack were any indicator of the kind of person I am, then I would basically be a monster. Logically, I wasn’t too far off when I first considered the group Two Steps From Hell, since the name alone portrays what an atrocious person I am. Hopefully, the music would instead be an indicator that I’m a sarcastic, ambitious individual who enjoys fun music and a good laugh once in a while.
In this big blue world, I feel as if I’m the only person content in her relationship status—which is single. Alas, I’m at that age when all my friends are pairing off, getting hitched, and popping out babies like it was a two for one deal. Now, I have a general aversion to long-term committed relationships because of my dating history; since history has a knack for repeating itself, I figured that I was just saving myself from over-indulgence of pints of mocha ice cream. In short, I’m in a bit of a pickle as to whom in their right mind would ever choose a single friend over their significant other. My solution, and those in my generation would agree, was the Internet. I tried to fill the void of companionship through social media, blogs, chat rooms, and yes, even dating sites. As I was casually perusing through profiles of eligible happy single life partners in a dating site, one particular profile caught my eye. No, it wasn’t love at first site. It was actually anger. I thought I saw one of my newly wedded friends’ other half that was attached by the ring finger on a dating site with an active profile. However, before I did anything hasty like homicide, I decided to hone my skills as a detective and investigate the situation without unnecessarily committing any crimes like stepping on a few toes or burying a body. Like anyone in my generation, the source of bountiful information, besides Wikipedia, is Facebook. I don’t actually have a Facebook account, but that’s another rant for another day. As it turned out, I was wise not to pull out the arsenic and lace. The wrongly accused was actually the brother of the man I assumed him to be. So I decided to shoot him a message out of morbid curiosity. After an hour of messaging, he gave me his number; and after a month of texting, we met in person. With his relationship history eerily similar to mine, we make a perfectly happy pair of single people, which has worked out swimmingly for over a year. It’s amazing how small the world can be despite the existence of the infamous World Wide Web.
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