I found many small to medium tins to spray paint and cover the lids with Mokume Gane, those were popular when I made a few before. So today, I do that. I have to use up that Gane loaf I made, and only a bit of it will go to jewelry. So, the tins are a great idea. This is also good because I have a box of CD, Altoids, and cigarette tins that need new lives. I think I have found it. I won’t do them all Mokume Gane, unless I want that to be my “thing”, I haven’t decided yet. So, while the wind is down and it is cooler outside, I will spread out some papers and do that. Then work on the Gane while they dry. I want to line them with black felt, or fleece, I have to price that and see if it would be practical to the cost, when including the time for the Gane. For now, the Gane is the only thing I will be charging for my time on. The rest is just materials.
I posted this in FB late last night:
You can’t make people be your friend. You can make them lie to you if they are too lazy or cowardly to say they don’t want to be friends. But you can’t make them loyal, or reliable, or honest, or trustworthy. No matter what they say to your face.
So many people who, if there is nothing in it for them that they can’t get for themselves, then there is nothing in it. No one does shit out of the kindness of their hearts or that shit anymore. It’s all about “What can you do for me?” And if the answer isn’t right, fuck you all to hell. Sit there and deal with it.
I meant it about H, but then realized it applied to B, as well. And it applies to everyone in Kel’s life, as well. We are just surrounded by assholes. Backpfeifengesicht – face that needs to be slapped. Don’t ask me about the pronunciation, I haven’t learned it yet. But it’s my and Kelli’s new favorite word.
Maria Sharapova . . . yeah. There are no “winners”, there are only liars and cheaters, and then the rest of us buying into the lies. Fuck the world.
B drove by last night, did I mention that? Yeah, I happened to be having a smoke in the front security vestibule, and I heard the high whine indicative of the engines he’s rebuilt. And sure enough, he comes around the corner and down the street. It was dusk, the street light was on, I saw his scraggly hair and gleaming baldness clearly in the light. And if Doc’s descrption was right, he was riding the scooter Doc supposedly bought from him that needed to be “rebuilt”. Seems to work just fine to me, how about handing it over to the guy who paid you for it, prick?
So, yeah, not in the best mood today. It will get better. When I get some stuff done, I will feel better.