Tag Archives: spore

: My barking client Spore awakes

"Oh my god, he's dead!" I cried out, on seeing my client's pentacle-decorated body on the floor.

Spore sat bolt upright. "Dead? I'm not dead. I always sleep like this." He shook himself awake.

"What's with the satanic cross?" I asked suspiciously. I already knew Spore was barking, and that was before I saw a five-point star on his nightshirt.

"You ought to know that symbol is no more evil in origin than the swastika," he declared. He still had me confused with the professor of Religious Symbology at Harvard.

"Look Spore, I'll come to the point." I didn't want to waste any more time with this nutjob. "I need an advance." I explained about the theft of my computer and how I'd been led astray by a wild woman.

"You disappoint me, dear boy," he replied, his fingers making a revolting waxy sound in connection with his ear. "Let me introduce you to somebody who might be able to help."

He donned his familiar gabardine and we set out towards the shopping precinct. Finally we reached what used to be Geiger's bookstore. A sign now said ‘Internet Café.'

Spore pointed to a short stocky man with a balding pate. "Meet the Admiral," he said.

Religious Symbology: Should I Care?

November 28, 2008

My barking client Spore awakes "Oh my god, he's dead!" I cried out, on seeing my client's pentacle-decorated body on the floor. Spore sat bolt upright. "Dead? I'm not dead. I always sleep like this." He shook himself awake. "What's with the satanic cross?" I asked suspiciously. I already knew Spore was barking, and that was before I saw … Continue reading →

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Bluesky

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As I trekked home through the city streets after a rough night on LaFlamme's sofa, it became clear to me that my life had taken a turn towards unhingement.

My shifty client Spore had set me up with a tricky task in trying to fix up his terrible logo and find its hidden religious significance. And LaFlamme had hinted that there may be a clue to this in the Jack Daniels label. But the only real revelation last night was that LaFlamme could drink with both hands.

I stepped quickly past Flanagan's Bar - no point going near there for a while. But I needed to study that JD label in the cold light of day.

I entered a local liquor store and perused the lined shelves. There it was, the distinctive white on black with its manifold typefaces.

I lacked sufficient funds to buy the bottle so I stood there eyeballing it within an inch of my face, much to the store-owner's consternation. His composure hardened and I felt waves of disapproval cross the room.

"I wonder if.. if.. I could borrow this," I finally blurted out. It proved to be a decisive moment for him.

After dusting myself down, I figured I might be able to hit Spore for an advance and crossed town towards his gothic mansion on the east side.

Imagine my horror when I stepped inside and found Spore's body, wearing nothing but all-in-one long-johns, spread-eagled on the floor, a blood painted five-point star on his torso.

Shopping Can Be Dangerous

November 27, 2008

As I trekked home through the city streets after a rough night on LaFlamme's sofa, it became clear to me that my life had taken a turn towards unhingement. My shifty client Spore had set me up with a tricky task in trying to fix up his terrible logo and find its hidden religious significance. … Continue reading →

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Bluesky

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After my client Spore had left, the room began to thaw out. His reptilian presence could bring a chill to any environment, let alone my generally inhospitable office.

I flicked through the pages he had left, each headed with the worst logo in the world. Drawing out a Venus Velvet, I began making some preliminary sketches before I remembered I hadn't used a pencil in ten years. I could barely write my name.

I went to fire up the pc, and I use this term because until recently it involved rubbing two sticks together.

I missed the old machine. Many's the time I'd been lulled into a womb-like reverie by the whirring of its vast engine, only to be jolted back to reality by the brittle barking of one of my lowlife clients.

But imagine my horror this afternoon when I reached for the on switch of the new silent-gliding incarnation to find it absent - replaced only by this cryptic, hand-written note: "I have taken the kid. Signed FF."

It could only mean one thing. Unable to draw and without a computer, my life as a graphic designer just got a whole lot harder.

The Graphic Designer’s Plight

November 20, 2008

After my client Spore had left, the room began to thaw out. His reptilian presence could bring a chill to any environment, let alone my generally inhospitable office. I flicked through the pages he had left, each headed with the worst logo in the world. Drawing out a Venus Velvet, I began making some preliminary … Continue reading →

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Bluesky

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I’ve seen some howlers over the years. In fact I’ve been responsible for many of them. But this was the granddaddy of them all. A plain blue on white affair with every crappy Photoshop filter ever invented bolted on in an attempt to mask its true awfuldom.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked Spore, who was grinning inanely in anticipation of my full horror, which had yet to reveal itself.

“Well, you studied Religious Symbology at Harvard so I figured you might be able to explain its significance. Or failing that, you could tart it up.” Spore advanced slightly and I recoiled in equal measure.

“Not me chum, I’m a Duncan of Jordanstone man,” I protested. “Symbology’s strictly off limits. Besides, why would I want to get involved in this?”

Spore was up to something. He was a man whose everyday wardrobe included a cloak and dagger, but this was different. He was agitated. I decided to play the sucker along for a while because he was starting to interest me. And I wasn’t sure where my next drink was coming from.

“I think you know more than you care to admit,” he slithered. “Look, I’ll be frank.” He unfolded his arachnoid limbs and reconvened by the water cooler. “I wanted to be an albino. But they said I was too tall.”

As a non sequitur it was beautiful in its simplicity. Now I was really interested. He fixed me with those steely eyes. “I need your help on this one. Work your magic.”

The Worst Logo I Ever Saw

November 18, 2008

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Bluesky

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Ignacious Spore and some of my other dubious clients.

I awoke this morning and began the daily graphic designer's ritual of removing #1 cat from my head. Normally this is a simple process involving a crowbar or the occasional light crane. However, this morning having been disturbed by the most alarming sound in the world - my doorbell - the process was a little more convoluted.

For a start, my bolt upright reaction caused a weighted spring effect, quite tricky to reproduce in 3d, and the subsequent stramash was something awful. However, I stumbled to the door in the manner of an encephalitic buffalo with the beast still in tow, and who should be standing there but my regular client the sinister Ignacious Spore. Spore had his own feline sidekick Mrs. Spock perched on his shoulder like an emaciated parrot.

"Morning," he grizzled. It was 2:30pm. "Got a job for ya."

I invited the creep in and he slithered into the office in the style of Uriah Heep. He then proceeded to unfold, with great delicacy, an ancient leather bound volume from a silk covering, revealing what was undoubtedly the worst logo I've ever seen. "Ain't that a beaut?" he said and I felt that he exaggerated somewhat.

And it was then that it struck me. Does graphic design suck? Your comments welcome.

Does graphic design suck?

November 17, 2008

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Bluesky

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