I used to write letters / I used to sign my name

Apparently it is possible to create your own font that is actually usable for free, with very little effort (unless you want your own font look better than my pathetic squiggles) I am very excited about this if you can't tell. Not that I'll use my font anywhere. Or do anything at all with it. But it is nice, knowing I could. Behold!

Yeah, my actual handwriting looks more or less like that. I'm not proud of it or anything, and I kind of pity my penpals who have to decipher my writing on a monthly basis.
Anyway, if you want to make your own, you can do so here.
And if you want to download mine for some reason, you can do that by clicking here.

If that's what gets your dick hard / Telling people they're bad at making art.

I tried my hand at this making art-business again. Work in progress or not, depending if I can muster up courage to add contrast and textures. Probably not, though.
Funny fact: Blue ink dries faster than red.
Note for self: Test how long new inks take to dry before using them.

Ladies of the New Century

I took my first tattoo today. I was a nervous wreck until I walked into the Flame Tattoo & Piercing in Helsinki, Kamppi. After sitting into that chair, though, all my worries drained away. It didn't hurt all that much  (from stories I had heard I expected a lot worse) Guy who tattooed me was calm and nice. My tattoo didn't bleed almost at all, and it already (after 4 hours) has stopped prickling. In short: I'm very pleased with outcome.

It's a hydrogen atom. You'll be receiving no
explanation.

Taking a tattoo was to me obvious choice. I was about ten when it first occurred to me that they are a real thing that real people have. Of course I wanted one. (If I remember correctly, my first idea for a tattoo was a old school scorpion. I was one of those kids.) My mother said, "maybe when you're older" Well, guess who's older now?
My family doesn't care about my septum, or haircut, or tattoo in one way or other, but I do hear from them regularly (them and my grandparents) that I'd be "such a pretty girl" without them. And each time I grin internally, because it rarely occurs to people, that I want piercings and tattoos (yes, I intend to take one or two or ten more) to set myself apart from those pretty faces and bodies. There is more to people than that. This is a way to show others who I am inside, on the outside.
Cheeeesyyyyy.

So let's take a ride and see what's mine.

The Sisterhood of Total Failure.
The Communist and the Merry Band of Bandits.
Happy Dystopia Utopia.
The Worst Snipers Ever.
Petri Nygård was here.
No Zombie Grannies from Åland!
Pretty Decent Coffee, if I say so myself.
When everything else fails, Try Socialism.

The weekend of life and camping and wrong destinations (not that anyone cares about Nuuksio anyway.)
I would explain but no one's interested and it's funnier this way.

Beginning. 

To promised land

Detour

Finally not there but somewhere else

Excuse me I'm tired of naming this shit

As long as you protect something

There was some...

...ruin raiding.

The Worst Snipers ever. 

Traditional local cuisine

To the Moon and beyond.

Hobo

Joy. Clearly.

Not all of us woke up.

Now excuse me while I go and sleep 'til next year.

reading jpeg format

I'm not at home, and I photographed something. This is unusual.
My friend lives in the middle of nowhere a half an hour bus ride away from civilization, and that's where I am for the midsummer's eve. This marks first midsummer's eve in a very long time that I've done something other than sitting at home on computer. Hurrah and all.

I like to tell everyone that I'm a photographer, but in truth I rarely take photos. I also like to pretend that this is because of my crappy camera, but that's not true either. I'm just lazy, okay?