NSFW 
Version 1.7 All Dogs Go to Heaven


Dear Digital Diary,
Come to find once you have the means, buying stuff gets boring. I recently had to make an unfortunate purchase: A new computato. Computato Prime, a Mac M1 Mini went kaput on me out of nowhere. It was working when I fell asleep, working through the night, actually - I fall asleep to Astrum Extra videos, and when I woke up at 5:30am for H20, it was still running. When I woke up again at 8:00am she was gone.
Imagine your whole ass computer that you didnt bother to back up just died. For someone as digitally dependent as I am, I thought it would hit harder, but I adjusted quickly. I have other devices, and jerry-rigged (sidequest: who is the jerry jerry-rigging owes its name to?) a set up similar to what I had stripped of my precious files. my jewels. My plan was to do a hard drive recovery and throw it on the newest version of the same machine, or better yet a refurbished in-between model. Come to find, all the Mac Minis on the planet have been snapped up by AI nerds running clawdbot for agential carnage.
For real. Check this out, I go to the apple store to get my power strip replaced (back when I thought there was still hope) and ask the "genius" helping me about picking up a new mini, mentioning I didnt see any in the store when I was walking in. He says they don't have any in-store. He walks me over to one of the studio set ups and jumps on apple's website and shows me that there aren't any on the site either.
I ask about refurbished ones - I figure if the latest one (M4) is $700-$900 I can get a refurbished M3 for $400 or $500, even an M2 would have been better than what I was using. So he goes to the Refurbished section - I gotta pause here, because he demonstrated that to get to the Refurbished products, you actually have to use the search tool on apple's website and type "Refurbished", meaning there is no way to actually navigate to the Refurbished page using the site's menu navigation! Diabolical!
Anyway, he goes on to prove there are no refurbished minis available, of any model, on the site. Not just for this store, city or state but all of America. Part of me finds this hard to believe.
I was able to find one on Amazon, but only one. like you cant choose ram or hard drive size, there's just one flavor. Sufficient. When it arrives I am horrified to find out what Tahoe 26 is like. I had never updated to it since I didnt need to, not giving a shit about Apple Intelligence. Horrid aesthetics and no way to organize apps. SO COOL. There's other issues but Ive already wasted too much of both of our time on this, but just know I have an essay written in my mind titled 'Everything I need to know about Corporate Malfeasance I learned from Wacom driver version 6.4.11'.

Ive also gotten into stamp carving and cranked out a few paintings. Nothing Im desperate to share, which is good in a way. I am thankful I am in not in one of those stages where I am satisfied in my competency.

Schrödinger's books
So when I moved to Taiwan I left behind a lot of stuff at my folk's house- things you can't move with across the planet like paintings, knick knacks and books. A year or so after my move, my mom decided she wanted to remodel the room all my stuff was in and packed it up, with most of it transferred to another room in the house. The one thing she chose to store outside, on the uncovered balcony, was my books- you know, the one thing I own that would conceivably appreciate in value over time and the most permeable to weather damage. Art books, photography monographs, graphic novels, hardcovers, softcovers, vintage textbooks, handmade books, zines, special editions, limited editions, first editions. Trust that I had lot of books
I wasn't told about this storage situation, which is probably for the better. But when I got back and found out -realizing how much time it had been, with my books baking out in the sun, sitting under years of rainy weekends and morning dew, just getting funkier and nastier- my reaction was odd. In that it was a non-reaction of self-preservation. I could not bear to open the boxes and see what had become of them. The specific vision I could not allow myself to live through was pulling a warped version of Joel Peter Witkin's Bone House out of the clothbound sleeve ravaged by mildew. So I left it. I did not open the boxes, I did not toss them. I just let it be, and they stayed where they were.
More time passed. Every time it rained I would think about those boxes of books, likely getting worse, absorbing the weather and drying up and cycling through the seasons. Eventually it got to be that they were out there longer with me back than with me gone, but I still couldn't do anything. There's some psychological aspect to this, I know, but I have a blind spot when it comes to seeing myself. Then there was also my mom, who I am pretty good at reading. She's very much an "everything I do is right" kinda lady and if ever the mere concept of those books were brushed up against she would silently rise to an intense level of I fucking dare you to say I did something wrong. We never talked about it but if even if I bumped into the topic accidentally, I could smell the stink of her rage coming after me, the kind that spits when it talks and you cant react to it or it gets worse.
So there was that part too. Anyhoo. This year, they decide to re-wood the balcony (I don't know the word for it, probably just 'remodel') and Im told I need to do something about these boxes.
To describe the boxes, they're a mix of a few types. The majority are one of two types: 10-gallon clear plastic container with a clear lid, heavy duty black with a yellow lid (the type you find in Home Depot and nearly all of your neighbor's garages) in both 12 and 27 gallon sizes, and two green plastic tubs, the size of which I can no longer tell you because while I was moving the boxes the green ones shattered and then fucking disintegrated.
Horrifying start.
In the disintegrated tub was a sega game gear, games, a gameboy printer, and a massive CD case with idk all the CDs I ever bought and all the mix CDs I had ever been given and saved. completely rotten, rusted and otherwise weather destroyed. So that was super cool to discover.
Like those stupid fuck ass posters say, I kept calmed and carried onned. I dragged in the boxes, not without some help at the end- 27 gallons of books is a heavy amount of books, and I got bucatini noodle arms, though I was able to Stonehenge most of it using physics and friction, evoking the female joy of assembling and moving a bunch of furniture by yourself.
In the end, what boxes survived were brought in but I still couldn't bring myself to open the lids, knowing i was at the precipice of confirming my devastation.
Supplementing my education is a nifty webapp I found -formerly known as TVGarden, now going by the more vague name famelack- that lets you spin a globe, select a country and watch local live tv. There's a broadcast that plays on repeat after midnight in Benin, what looks like a performance for heads of state, acapella groups singing in a large plaza with tents set up to house the audience. it slaps. Hybrid

Ive started upon a self motivated project to learn about different African countries in my downtime or between work projects. Did you know that theres only 54 of them? You can cover one country a day and be done in a month and a half, and even though a single deep dive is hardly enough to have exhaustive knowledge, you'll at least know a little more than you otherwise did. It started spontaneously, maybe as a reason to get through more of my inks while taking notes. I started with Benin and I have to cut myself off from going off about all the streams I followed but look up Egungun (2)
- Me finally understanding how international relations informs supply chain management.
Tiny Investigations
While each are a bit batty, they all seem to fit a theme:
short (about a min in length), huge view counts, and uploaded exactly 6 years ago




Turns out this rabbit hole bottoms out at the top of a whole other iceberg and there's been this on-going trend, for years, of Wario dying soundscapes, some with animations, most are static images, a multiverse of all possible deaths, usually while eating, specifically oreos, made by different people across time and place who might never meet, and I think that's demented and beautiful.
Is it real? Is it genuinely 3.4K Wario dies variations? If it's not and becomes a list of cryptoscam livestreams sandwiched in between Wario-dies-while videos, who is the target for the scam? Who is the scammer that thought to target them? I don't want out what's happening. but this time in a different way. Like wario deaths, like schrödinger's cats, I want to live in a world of all possible answers existing.
Farfalle e Bastardi
Bastards & Butterflies
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| BASATARDI by Massimo Mattioli I spent an afternoon translating this comic from Italian because I had to know what it said*.
Originally released in |
Butterflies by Samanta Schweblin Read this extremely short story on the bus back from LA and it appropriately crushed me.
Originally released in |
*Possibly the first english translation since it was published 45 years ago?


The beginning of the year was flush with stuff and part of (the entire) reason I broke my monthly update streak was because I got stuck making another super elaborate update using Decker. Problem is after I finally finished it I realized how fucking boring it was. But if you're frankly obsessed with me, or stalking someone adjacent to me and need to see if they are mentioned, I will still offer you my whereabouts during the year's first month:

finally got me one of those 99ranch trader joe style tote bags from my sister-in-law along with a trove of Chinese versioned American junk foods (think: peach tea oreos)

LINK.DUMP #027 - In-browser delights featuring free international tv channels, pixel blitzers, psychedelic 70s comix, and one helluva house tour.
The end of the year was fine. There's not many specific events that leap to mind, but I remember enjoying myself. Went to the airport a half dozen times, picking folks up and dropping them off. Didn't go anywhere myself. Getting on in my older years I've become pretty self satisfied in a way that might seem alarming to my younger self. Every now and then I wonder if I should feel guilty about how content I am, but that feels like a silly thing to probe. I don't go out much is what I'm trying to say but it's very much by choice. Even when I do try to make plans, it feels delightful to break them and give in to doing what I really want. I think what I used to believe is that for a life well lived you needed to be able to count a lot of things, exciting memories and experiences. well I have those and turns out you dont need to endlessly add to that list, or at least not feel compelled to force new items. That's what I learned this year? Maybe?
One of my many airport trips was to bring my neighbor/ex/doggy-baby-daddy to say goodbye to and then attend services for his brother, who was rapidly deteriorating from and eventually died of pancreatic cancer. Rough stuff. When he got back the first time, after his brother had passed, he showed me a picture of his mom hands, cradling the hand of her oldest son during his last moment on the planet. He wanted me to paint it for her as a Christmas present. It was a bit tricky, trying to capture the likeness of hands. Drawing hands are hard enough but getting them to resemble known hands is a lot tougher. I didn't get a picture of it once it was all done, set and framed, but I do have a pic I sent when I was at the horizon of good enough to give up and stay safe, or keep going and potentially ruin it. From what I remember I didn't do too much after this. Of course she loved it and cried, so thats what matters most.
I also did a set of paintings for my immediate family for Xmas. Once we were done with presents, I pulled out five tiny gift bags, each containing a tiny 2.5" square painting of one of my family members. I had everyone pick a bag at random and then open them at the same time. They were pretty jazzed and the fun of it all trumped the necessity of accuracy or the paintings being that good. Despite how small they were, or precisely so, I bit off more than I could chew by trying to make tiny accurate paintings in watercolor on tiny novelty low-quality canvasses, although grounding them first a few times did help. I didn't get pics of the whole set, but here's the one I pulled of my pops.
box-sizing attribute? Anyway, I'm running away with myself. My point was supposed to be: I put together a page with the whole year in chronological order. This year I made it all at once (today) whereas usually I add to while the year is on-going, see 2023.html, 2024.html in my Archive, along with other neat stuff I've forgotten about.

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| Currently Reading Usually when I do my monthly updates I'll throw in a few words about my recent reads, but with so much going on the last month I plum forgot. But my current livre du mois, Running the Light by Sam Tallent is good enough to get its own island.The plot follows a washed-up comedian on a tour through no-name venues in forgettable towns across forgettable states. Having been a waitress at a comedy club for a few years, I can attest, the misery and hubris of the main character are accurate.
It's written by a comedian I never heard of; the foreward, by another comedian I've never heard of, begins with how the book has no business being as good as it is, expecting it to be a lark, a little side-project from his friend, not an actually good piece of writing. And he's right. It's hella good. The writing is fun, passingly introspective with the kind of blasé horniness of henry miller on a scumbag adventure. A lot of you might not know this but I used to be a waitress at a comedy club. I usually only mention it in connection with the shooting that took place one night I was working, but its largely the reason why the wretchedness that enshrouds the stand up comedy industry is a special interest of mine. I was real keen on this show I would watch on one of the English language channels in Taiwan called I'm Dying Up Here. Y'all ever catch that?
On the flipside is Louis CK's debut novel Ingram. A comedian I love and admire (you could not pay me to care about him jerking himself off in front of women) and couldn't wait to read. Boy did that book stink. Right from the first page. The writing is trash! Sad! Here's the first half of the starting sentence of the first four paragraphs:
"When I was a small and new boy..."
It's trying to be something, and I get that, but you could at least tell the story with interesting sentences. It's written in a kind of Southern voice, which is incredibly hard to pull off. It's the same reason why I couldn't bring myself to start Marky Zee Danielewski (of House of Leaves fame)'s new book Tom's Crossing, which does use dynamic sentence structure but injects too much twang to feel natural:
Another book I read back in October and quickly enjoyed was Walking Practice by Dolki Min. Its a korean sci-fi story about an alien trapped in Seoul that needs to take on the form of humans (and eat them) in order to survive and is having a tough time managing stairs. Its quick and fun and silly and takes advantage of typography to tell the story. Whenever the main character returns to their home and transforms back to their original form the words expand and loosen along with the alien's form and skin. That's fun! |
My top (and bottom) stationery pics for 2025:
.∘✶⋆stationeryspecific.substack.com⋆✶∘.

sorry but if you don't love this calendar, then idk what to tell you. At the top of the month I noticed that the pomegranate tree in the backyard was ripe and ready for the picking, but it wasn't until I found a pomegranate juicer at Marshalls for $7.99 that i would act, snip-snipping at the tree's branches with a big black pair of shears like an artschool dropout trying to give herself bangs. Spent a full day harvesting until sundown, lugging away dozens and dozens of strange red fruit. Pomegranates are weird, like god and evolution chasing after each other, and I cant think of another way to explain it. Learned pretty quickly why the fuck pomegranate juice is so expensive. Juicing them is hella labor intensive. One fruit might take 20 minutes and yield about an inch of juice. My kitchen looked like a crime scene with dark red drops and castoff from the ceiling to floors, or perhaps more aptly, from the windows to the walls. satisfying process though.
had a big scare with my little lady after chola's tumor became infected. Within the span of a day it grew to twice the size and meanwhile she became unresponsive, not able to eat or drink, shaking intermittently throughout the day. It was heartbreaking and at one point I completely lost my composure, sobbing into my hands, overwhelmed with thoughts of the worst that could happen. It was the most emotion I've ejected in years, certainly out of my face. Luckily she pulled through that first day the infection took over and we were able to get her on a schedule of antibiotics and move her surgery day up, though she would have to be coned up in her dunce cap until then.
The day of the surgery came and she took it like a champ, bounding back almost immediately, though what weight she had lost was quickly put back on, since her round the clock medication meant untold amounts of ricotta to airplane it in. All told, across a single month I spend $3300 in medical bills and she gained a full kilo in medicinal cheese. ricotta stuffed pooch. every second i am smothering her with affection.
Because the surgery was rescheduled, I was able to attend Thanksgiving, resuming our new tradition of going to my brothers house in redacted. New this year was kevin hayes and his mom lili of pancake pie fame.
The next day, the next day, we went to TopDrawer where I would negotiate between every variation of the Kolo Tino in Limited Super Special Edition DUNE and ended up taking home the in-store demonstration model, not caring that it had been handled as it was the one I first fell in love with. You ever see that Disney Cartoon with the hats that fall in love? Johnny Fedora and Alice Blue Bonnet? There's something about that store that reminds me of the texture of that cartoon.
I had nowhere to put this, but I ordered a McRib and it was missing the bottom bread of the sandwich. So I had to eat it upside-down and open faced. It's unfortunate that the nature of my memory means i will probably remember this long after the other memories of this month's events have faded.



How to tell if a pomegranate is ready to pick:
Is there funky stuff in the bottom thingy? half the time thats fine, after you split the fruit you'll usually find that the funky stuff doesnt make it into the fruit because the bottom part's all thicc
what i like to do is get a sharp knife and cut out that flowery bit deep into the meaty part thusly:

How to get rid of pomegranate stains from light colored clothing: you dont.
Fast Fact: Those little red corn kernel guys are called 'arils'

The first week of October was spent horizontally, in that I was bed bound and.. sick? I'm still not sure what happened there; American health care means I've conditioned myself to not visit the doctor under any circumstances. Luckily, I hardly fall ill, so it was an almost-amusing experience to observe. My head hurt too much to look at a screen and every time I stood up it was like peeling myself off the road after taking a semi-truck like that awful child in Pet Semetary. I'm just hoping I'll be good by the 10 th because my brother, his wife and I had been looking forward to a semi-hinged stationery-centric weekend in LA. Not just any ole trip either- that weekend was slated for the first annual Bungu LA Expo aka BunguFest (not a sex thing). We had been wanting to go to the SF Pen Show to celebrate our mutual obsession, but life happened and circumstances wouldn't allow, so we were pretty stoked to see that there was going to be stationery expo geared towards Japanese brands in their backyard.

Mind you, online tickets for the first day had sold out, but we were hopeful we'd still be able to get in, since the site said they had still reserved a whole bunch of tickets for the door. Then, some fuck at the LA Times newspaper wrote a long ass piece about the event and the people planning it, bringing it way too much attention and now I understand why sometimes politicians execute target journalists. just kidding. We coulda gotten tickets for the second day but my con-going experience has taught me the coolest shit sells out day one- a real and present danger amplified by the fact that there would be many first-time vendors.
Board the Amtrak and catch a train to Glendale, Friday before BunguFest. Bungufest Eve, you might not say. We discuss our game plan. I'm thinking getting there a bit later in the day might be better, since by that time, the folks that showed up in the morning will be filtering out and damn if people in LA don't love lines (see: Pink's Hot Dogs). Jen volunteers to get up early and hold us a spot in line, but all of us are up bright and early the next morning anyway, so we decide to roll up when it opens. The expo is being held at beautiful Union Station (in that big side room at the entrance, for anyone who has ever been). The line felt infinite, wrapping around the station. We settled in and used the time to catch up, plot a menacing letter on adorable stationery to the aforementioned LA Times journo, and mentally drown in the ocean of keychain creatures clipped to all manner of totes, purses and bags.
We finally get in TWO AND A HALF HOURS later, and promptly treated to- more lines. The place was clearly at max capacity and certain sections, booths and features had built up their own queues. Didn't know when I walked in but I needed a lot of wooden stamps. An obscene amount of wooden stamps. Did you know that stamps can be combined to form entire scenes? I didn't, but after a stamping demonstration that felt like a magician's sleight of hand, I was sold. Without the supervision of people who wouldn't understand, I was allowed to purchase four notebooks I may never fill to join the other notebook I've never started**. One purchase I got on a whim, and turned out to be real pleased with, was a photo essay in the form of a book, exploring mom and pop stationery shops across Japan, compiled by one Mr. Allister Lee. It was lovely reading for the train ride home.
On the way out I spotted my friend Kevin (not the Hayes), which was cool. We were leaving at the same time, I asked him how long he had to wait to get in and he said ten minutes. Spotted him again when we pulled up to the second location, PaperPlant Co. The owners of the shop put the event on and here another line had formed. I couldn't, none of us could, so we strolled through LA's weird ass Chinatown and finally went home to flatten out. We ended up getting pizza and watching Lower Decks til we all got sleepy.

The next day was a tour of LA stationery stores. I felt like a delegate being shown the finest wares in the kingdom. Got some more things with a little more discretion. Caught a pen crush at Top Drawer. Wandered around a warehouse filled with decades of meticulous sculptures, tasteful hoarding and assemblages. Still not sure what that place was called but its next to a marionette theater and within walking distance to Shorthand.

The next week my neighbor's family, which has as many members as most people's extended families, came into town to reunite with their brother facing terminal illness. His place (my neighbor's) is a sty so when I heard he was going to be housing two grown adults in his already cramped one-bedroom, I offered my guest room immediately and without thought. I declined most of their offers to join them for outings, but the day before they left I finally did accept their offer to go to SDZINEFEST, where one can see what America's most mediocre city has to offer. I was still a bit high off the Bungu Expo and felt the need to spend big on small potatoes. Got a handful of things, which I haven't bothered to give a second look, but to be fair, the same can be said of most (if not all) of my most recent comiccon haul.
Lastly, and hopefully leastly, I had to bring my sweet Chola to the vet for a bump in her tummy tissue that kinda looks like a new boob- she was born with an asymmetrical amount of nipples, so she doesn't need another. Cost a pretty penny to run a gamut of tests and we have a surgery scheduled for the week of Thanksgiving. Luckily, she's as spry and sassy as ever, so it isn't bothering her in the meantime, and despite her getting on in years, I know her vim and vigor will pull her through. The last time she had surgery, for a minute there I didn't know just how we were going to afford it, but this time it feels good to be in a place where I can cover anything she needs.
She had a blast on Halloween, sitting outside on an outdoor blanket, handing out barks to trick-or-treaters and airplanes.


Next month there will be much more to report as there have already been travels and tribulations. Until then, EVERYONE, HAVE A GREAT DAY.
Another fun, fat and funky, fruitful month for humantooth. First off thank you all for 500k page views, I still cant believe that they all aren't just me checking to see if my edits took. In a world where tiktok videos break 1m views in 24hrs, I dont take the slow climb to half of that in a few years for granted. Looking at my dumb little website is a genuine conscious effort as neocities doesn't have an algorithm or a to-go menu. To celebrate I got myself a new url, which I actually forgot about until flipping through my Hibino trying to remind myself what I did this month.
Got a visit from my very best friend Katrina, who drove out from New Mexico, so that was a delight. In preparation for her visit, and to meet the minimum for free shipping on Jet Pens, I ordered her a Masuya Monokaki, which I would come to find has a long and sordid history. Ok just a long history.

I knew the cover was sourced from an Edo period washi maker, and wanted to make note of the name studio because she likes that kind of stuff (i.e. paper-making; she's a bookbinder). Trying to find that name led me to many open tabs, google-translations and a whole entry in my stationery specific blog, stationeryspecific.substack.com.
As for her visit, it was quick, since I caught her on the tail end of a lower-state regional road trip, but we got to exchange gifts (she made me some LOVELY boxes to keep my magazines in using her bookbinding skills), chit and chat and do some tables and chairs business at whole foods like we did as kids, except this time we have money to pay for everything we ate.
There's this realtor in the neighborhood I live in who mails us these fliers and calendars to keep her present in our minds should any of us that own homes ever wish to sell, and often they will include a cartoon illustration of the neighborhood with the caption THIS IS NESBITT COUNTRY. So its become a bizarre running joke that we are all citizens of Nesbitt Country and she is our queen.
Every year the citizens of Nesbitt Country participate in a massive multi-family neighborhood garage sale (an MMFNG, if you will) and she drives around on her little golf cart bequeathing her subjects with Krispy Kreme donuts. It's hell.
These garage sales are pure mania. They start at seven (in the actual morning) and the second the garage comes up you dont get a chance to set up because immediately folks are walking up and asking how much this is? And the tide doesn't stop until about 10 or 11 but by that time it feels like three days have past and I can only liken it to time spent on shrooms or LSD.
This being our third year, and the previous year giving me PTSD where I was shouting out prices in my dreams, I was in the right mind to make the executive decision to not begin until 8am. While we did sell less, we made up for it in reducing stress. It was actually kind of fun. And I was able to offload art supplies and minis to 14 and 12 year old girls respectively that were thrilled beyond measure. So that felt good.
A couple weeks later I would learn how truly boring my house is when the power was shut off for scheduled something or other. It started before I could make coffee -which is when I learned that actually, my stove does need electricity to boil water- and was slated to end at 2:30pm but went past that until 4:00pm. I think I painted? and swatched some new inks? I certainly didn't read since I was able to make a mobile hot spot from my phone to stream true crime nonsense on my ipad.
Ive been struggling with reading lately, not like with putting together words into letters, but the act. Its a guilt I feel because I have so many freaking books and have added more since comiccon.

We have also upgraded our hardware at HumanTooth farms. well, not sure if "upgraded" is the right word but I got a new tech thing. A stinking cute pink laptop I found on Amazon for $180USD. Took me awhile but I was able to turn it into a halfway decent machine once I terminated all these inane update processes that were constantly running and skull-fucking the CPU. I mostly got it to do L33t HaX0R shit with my M5 Cardputer and finally play HYLICS, neither of which I was able to do as a macOS girlie. Come to find that since the last time I made a foray into Michaelsoft Binbows, they've drummed up some decent ways to customize that awful awful interface.
and in Boone news, because I know none of y'all care, this month was absolutely BLESSED. For over a year now we have been looking forward to Boone v Boone, where Sarah would maker her argument for why she believed she was still entitled to $1,000 per month alimony payments while SEVRVING LIFE IN PRISON.
Since interest in the case has dwindled to loonies like me and it was pretty clear that media wasn't going to be there to record the way they did for her criminal case. A couple youtubers made their way down to florida to witness it in person and report back the exact degree how far off the rails she went. I, however, realized I had access to the feed since I had requested it back in May for the pretrial conference, and the links and dial-in details appeared to be used throughout the year (not on a case-by-case basis). I kept this to myself, figured out how to do screen recordings with audio on my computato, figured out how to record calls on my phone as back up (Thanks, Gemini!) and set my alarm on the morning of the trial and logged in through both. It. was. glorious. Not only was Sarah operating at peak craziness, her ex, once accommodating and kind, did a magical girl transformation into Sailor Grey Rock, delivering biting one-liners during cross examination. I was a bit nervous on getting it all since the trial was earmarked for three hours and ran closer to four, so you can imagine, these were MASSIVE files. After leaking the recordings to a few youtubers and getting shout-outs in turn, I went through and digitally glued them all together, removing any PII and name of the minor child and to the joy of the r/SarahBooneContinued subreddit, finally uploaded the whole kit and caboodle to the Internet Archive. Link below via the archive.org logo, along with links to my first ever font and a painting I did during the blackout.
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humanTooth-type-v.1.ttf
After long last, I am thrilled to report I have been able to cross an item off my perpetual to-do list:Make my own font.
Granted, I kind of used a cheat code to get there, but that doesn't negate the fact that this font did not exist before, and now it does. Yes, it's a little rough around the edges and hard to read, but so am I. In case you can't tell- it's meant to be a Display font, rather than used for body text.
I submitted it to Fontesk.com, a site where I have wasted many an hour gathering fonts for the second coming of Christ, and was so fucking jazzed to see that they accepted it! As of this writing it is currently sitting on their front page, which left me cheering in my chair.
If you would like to download it and use it yourself, I have given it Public Domain license, meaning its free to use for commercial, personal, and spiritual projects.
Downloads:
☞ Just the .ttf file, thanks.
→ FULL PACKAGE ←
(Includes: .otf, .ttf, .woff, .woff2, license)

AaBbCcDdEeFfGgHhIiJjKkLlMmNnOoPpQqRrSsTtUuVvXxYyZz!?0123456789:;[]{}\/~+=-_

LINK.DUMP #026 - digital anime, animation and anatomy archaeology, ancient math made modern, and standing on another planet while on earth. Plus some cool tools for neo-citizens.