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sirkkasnow · 5 years

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02 Always Take the Nickel Tour

Ao3 link

07/01/13 Monday

Morning dawned with a pleasant chill. Between Stan, Soos and Ford, they got the old station wagon - a sky-blue Ford Fairlane - rolled away from the house and tucked in at a shallow angle next to the Stanleymobile. The S still leaned forlornly against the dented siding. They’d get it hauled up and nailed back into place later.

Stan swept the road-trip debris off the front passenger seat and cracked the glove compartment. He set aside the age-yellowed manual and the service records, most of them crisp and fragile on ancient transfer paper, one new, extensive and computer-printed.

He then flipped through everything else, scanning with an expert eye for items of interest.

Brand new insurance card in the name of Clara Jane Merrick. A small collection of much older insurance cards in the name of Charles and Caroline Merrick. Vintage pressure gauge, matte black LED flashlight, heavy-framed designer sunglasses, can of pepper spray.

Photograph in a gold-stamped cardboard frame. Stan fished that one out, curious. The photo stock was the old-school linen textured stuff. Three blondes of varying shades grinned back at him, lined up like nesting dolls by age – forties, twenties, preteen – with matching sunhats and huge smiles. The smallest and darkest-haired was instantly recognizable as Clary. She was maybe twelve years old here, a beaky girl still growing into the aquiline nose neither of the others shared. He flexed the frame in one hand, squinting in to read the penned inscription on the photo's back - Carrie, Charlie, Clary.

Stan filed that away for later reference, returned the less-relevant stuff to the glove compartment, then leaned way over along the bench seat to pull the hood release.

The sun had slipped past noon by the time Clary finally emerged from the house, looking far less threadbare than she had the prior night. She was crisply dressed in yesterday’s Bermuda shorts, a fresh button-down shirt and a silk scarf patterned with dragonflies - wrapped twice, snug, knotted off-center at the throat. “Good afternoon, Stan.”

“Hey, Clary. Feelin’ better?” He was elbow-deep in the car’s guts by now, a few unsalvageable bits laid out on an old towel to one side. Grease streaked his forearms. The engine was pretty nice for something near the age of his own wheels, a huge V-8 that had seen very little use. This must have spent most of its life in a garage.

Clary stepped in alongside Stan, peering despondently into the engine compartment. “Sore, but rested, at least. What’s the diagnosis?”

Stan hissed in thought. “Drive belt assembly’s shot, electricals are kind of a mess. Radiator hoses of course. Think the engine block’s okay. The body damage isn’t too bad.”

Clary ran exploring fingers along the battered chrome of the front grill, mouth set in an unhappy line. “Except for the concave hood, I suppose. What can I do to help?”

“Know anythin’ about cars?”

“Repair? Not a thing.”

“It’s gonna be a while.” Stan glanced sidelong to study her profile.

“Ford said it may take weeks.” Clary’s tone was conflicted, teeth catching lightly at her lower lip, brow furrowed.

“Ford doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about when it comes to cars, but yeah, he’s not wrong. This thing’s old and the parts are gonna be a pain to scavenge up.” Stan straightened and toweled off his hands. “Orderin’ stuff in would take a while and I know from experience that you don’t always get the right widget through the mail. Might have a couple ideas about local sources…we’ll see. You okay?”

That air of pinched distress was tight around her eyes again. She rolled her shoulders back, looking up and out into the forest. An unhurried breeze set thousands of green-velvet branches into whispering motion. “Okay enough. It’s gorgeous here,” almost as an afterthought.

Stan flicked his gaze heavenwards for a weary moment. Yeah, she’d be staying for the duration. What the hell was it with tourists and pines? “Y’get used to it. Check out the Shack yet?”

“Not yet. I was promised an expert guide.” She stepped away, heading around the back of the wagon to unlatch and hoist down the mountain bike from its rack. A faint residue of reddish dust clung to the tire rims. “Maybe when I’m done unpacking the basics? Since I’m going to be here a few days, there are people who need to know my plans have changed.”

“Thought you were on vacation.”

“Money never sleeps, and unfortunately it’s easy to get some things done on the road.”

She trailed back and forth for a while, parking the bike and hauling a larger duffel bag into the house. Stan worked methodically through the last few items on his engine checklist and jotted down an occasional note. By the time she returned he had a more or less complete catalogue of what needed work. He lowered the badly-dented hood into place and latched it. “Fixin’ this is gonna be an adventure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. Let me know what you need in terms of parts, I can cover whatever – “

Stan ducked his head, stifling the wide flash of his grin behind one hand. “Careful, kid, don’t leave yourself quite that wide open. This is pretty much on Ford anyway so I’ll take most of it out of his hide. C’mon.” Clary paced in his wake, looking up and out across the Shack grounds like she hadn’t bothered before – probably a fair enough assessment after yesterday’s chaos. “So car repair’s not your bag, no shock that. How about arts and crafts? Tall tales? Improv?”

“I’ve had to put on a song-and-dance routine for the IRS a few times. Does that count?”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Depends on whether you pulled it off.”

“I definitely pulled it off. At least no one’s come looking for me yet.”

“Maybe you help me help Soos around the Shack, then, put those tap-dancin’ skills to the test. A favor for a favor.”

Clary frowned at him in puzzlement. “I’m game to try. This is all a bit outside my wheelhouse.”

“Honestly, you could get stuck in way worse places than this. We’ve got tons of stuff for the discernin’ passerby. Merchandise, magic, mystery, uh, mayhem, you get the picture.”

They walked through the house and he held the showroom door open for a moment. Clary peeked through at the flock of tourists trailing after Soos like happy ducklings. “You interested in this kinda stuff?”

“Interested enough to read the bumper sticker. Not enough to actually plan you into my itinerary.”

“Damn shame, that, you’d be missin’ out on the ninth wonder of the world.” He managed to time it in sync with Soos’ patter, the rhythm of the show familiar as breathing, and got a chuckle in return. “They’ll wrap up in a few, we’ll take a quick look at the gift shop until they clear out. Then you get your Founder’s Tour.”

“That’s you, then, not Soos?”

“Got it in one. I built this place from the ground up! Sure, the house was here and the junk was here, but I’m the one who spun it into a wondrous house of mysterious junk.” His hands swept up and out in a marquee arc. Clary gave him that wry, oblique glance he was getting used to.

The gift shop was temporarily abandoned. Stan made himself comfortable leaning against the counter and watched her pace the periphery, trailing careful fingertips over the snow globes. “Take a look around! If you see an impulse buy, make it.”

“I’ll pick out a few things before I go. If I don’t have physical evidence, no one will believe that I was here.” She picked up a snow globe, flipped it over to stir the flakes into motion, then set it down with exaggerated caution and headed for the freezer.

“Just because you’re stayin’ over does not mean you get to sneak in here for an ice pop.” He watched her peer through the glass at their collection of frozen novelties. “This as far out west as you’ve gotten? I mean, we’re off the beaten path and you’re just passin’ through, right? Most folks would’ve taken the main route north of here.”

“This is my fifth state in - “ She frowned, then sighed. “Three days with the overnight, I guess. I’ve been taking it slow and sticking to the state highways, since I’m traveling solo.”

“Long way to drive alone.”

“Yes.” Clary skimmed through the T-shirt rack and plucked out a question mark to hold up against her chest. “You started this place up, then. Can I ask how long you’ve been at it? There’s some history here, I can see that much.”

“Thirty years.” Easier to say now that the long wait was over, that was for sure. He studied her thoughtfully; she was a tough read compared to the usual Gravity Falls crowd. “Can’t say that I ever thought I’d start to enjoy this line of work, originally the idea was just to get the mortgage paid, but go figure. Built a pretty nice business out of tellin’ lies – ‘scuse me, stories.”

A bare sliver of a smile curled along her lips. “You did. I can tell this is a local institution. You’re retired now?”

“More or less. My brother wanted to haul me off on an expedition. Couldn’t say no.” Stan ducked his chin, smiling to himself. “Couldn’t up an’ close the place either, so I left it all to Soos. Been nice to come back and see what he’s made of it, stick my hand in again. You can take the man out of the Mystery Shack, but you can’t take the mystery out of the man, I guess.”

Clary came to rest at the counter next to him, hands empty, he noted. “So I get a rare chance at a tour from the original Mr. Mystery.”

“What, nothin’ here inspires you to drop a wad of cash?”

“I think I’ll make my purchases after I have a functioning car.”

“Fair enough. You’re about to witness a true master in action.” The excited murmur of shopping-primed tourists was beginning to build at the interior door. “We’ve got maybe twenty minutes before the next gaggle rolls through, so you get the short form. Anythin’ specific you want to see?”

They slipped out of the shop as the current group started to trickle in, ducking into the showroom. Stan couldn’t help sweeping an arm out to indicate the entire collection. “Behold, the Mystery Shack!”

Clary appraised the exhibits with cool cynicism. “Which one of these gets the least attention? I’ve always loved the half-hidden displays best.”

She strolled at his side, hands in her pockets, lips twitching now and then as he spun familiar stories. Coaxing a laugh out of her at the right points, a smile here and there, felt like a little victory. There was a customer like this in every tour, the one who’d been dragged along by family or friends. If that one could be won over the rest of the group would be eating out of his hand.

“I have no idea what this is. Must be a Soos addition.” Stan peered at the tiny huts shingled with pine cone scales built into a series of branches suspended from one of the ceilings, glittering with well-concealed LED lights. “All right, the Village of Cannibal Pixies, to whom we’re apparently now rentin’ space in the showroom. They’re out huntin’ their fellow fairies for the rest of the day, but they’ll be back this evenin’ and no doubt throwin’ quite the party, which is just as well, because most of the other fairies ‘round these parts are about as much fun as a root canal….”

She had to bite her lip against a horrified laugh. “I thought these were all your creations?”

“Nah. You’ve gotta keep the mix fresh. Throw in somethin’ new and the tourists will flock through the doors. It’s been almost a year since I got to add a new exhibit, actually.” Stan nudged her in the side with an elbow. “And you are gonna help me put my mark on the place again. Think you’ve soaked up enough inspiration?”

“I’ve soaked up something. Inspiration for what, exactly?” Stan ushered her through another door, one tucked into the shadow of a larger display’s curtain. They wove together through a twisting hallway and he savored her blink of surprise when they emerged a few steps down the hall from the kitchen.

“We’re makin’ another attraction for the showroom.” He’d already laid out most of the basics earlier that morning, with a vague plan towards taking stock and maybe patching some bits and bobs together, but the prospect of testing their new guest’s creative skills – not patience, that’d be rude – was too good to pass up.

The contents of the kitchen table were pauper’s choices, honestly. A handful of pelts, odds and ends left over from birds long since parted out for other projects, a couple of smaller skulls, coils of heavy aluminum wire for armatures. Clary sifted through the remnants with a careful hand and a dubious expression.

“Surprise me.” He dropped off a tack hammer and a few brads on his way past. She made a faint incredulous noise, her head swiveling to follow, and Stan shot her a flat look of challenge: Show me what you’ve got, bean-counter.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she settled cautiously into one of the kitchen chairs. “Pliers?”

“Toolbox under the table.”

The toolbox jangled heavily as she hauled it up into easy reach. He tuned out the low noise of her work for a while. His own projects kept him plenty busy – sprucing up the display cards for a couple of the new oddities Soos had incorporated, reviewing the merch inventory and a couple of new concepts, moving on with a hum of pleasure to update the current supply list for the Stan O’War.

It was the better part of an hour before he heard the chair scrape back. “Tinfoil?” Clary asked.

“Two drawers over from the fridge.”

A few clunks and a crinkle, then he heard her muttering spoon, spoon under her breath, clattering through the silverware drawer. She paced back over to the table and dragged the chair back in with a shallow sigh. Stan glanced over and saw her hunched over an armature, brow creased as she padded out the shape.

“You all right over there?” He was trying not to laugh. This was not the kind of focus he’d been expecting.

“Flashbacks to high school art class, nothing too traumatic, I promise.”

This went on for a while. Stan drifted out of the kitchen to track down one of the Shack ledgers and his last box of spare critter bits, which he set wordlessly at her elbow. She ransacked the contents and didn’t look up when she spoke. “Putty?” He rattled through a drawer and dropped off half a jumbo packet of the plumber’s two-part type on the table, which Clary pulled in and unwrapped.

It was well past five when something mostly complete sat before her. She had come up with a compact little mustelid nightmare, something weaselish in build with elaborate grasping talons pieced together from every sharp claw remaining amid the sorry leftovers he’d dumped out of his dwindling box of tricks. Wings scavenged from a sharp-shinned hawk he’d collected on some roadside ages ago were anchored in half-furled at the shoulders. The mink skull had been carefully if inexpertly re-skinned. Brow ridges and tiny, twisting horns sculpted out of plumber’s putty crowned the toothy head.

The thing was cute in an amateur way. He thought, bemused, that it might make a decent plush toy.

Clary flipped the critter over, features creased in complete concentration as she stitched in the last bits along the belly. “Got any paint?”

Stan folded his arms, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “Y’know, normally I’d just patch together bits from a fish, a squirrel and a chicken, and call it good.”

“Hell with that, we’ve got tourists to impress.” Clary hissed under her breath as she stabbed herself with the needle. When she finally stretched, he heard her neck pop and saw the wince. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half past time to pack it in, kid.”

She sat up straight in surprise, glancing out the window into the saturated deep-golden light of late, late afternoon. “Oh no.”

Stan tilted his thumb her way, letting the grin widen. “So I think you might be on the hook for pizza tonight. Seein’ as how you’ve been dead to the world for hours and we’d be goin’ with cereal otherwise.”

An indignant pause hung in the air as her brows rose sharply. “There’s still plenty of time for me to call my insurance company. I might well have whiplash. Those old-school bench seats with no headrest are infamous for that.”

He slung a dirty look over his shoulder as he retrieved the paintbox from a cupboard. “Ford said you were fine.”

“I don’t think I heard him mention a medical degree in that list he rattled off.”

“All right, fine, we’ll split pizza for the gang.” Her eyes narrowed to calculating slits. “Lady, you drive a hard bargain. Howsabout you tell me what this thing is and then we’ll talk.” Stan opened the paintbox and sorted through half-empty tubes of acrylics. “You know how to drybrush?”

“Nope.” Clary studied her spiky-clawed creation, somewhat at a loss. “Let me mull this over a moment….”

“It helps to have some idea what you’re doin’ before you start stitchin’ things together, y’know.” Stan picked out a dark chocolate brown and laid down a quick basecoat on the horns. “You’ve outfoxed the IRS? Then all you gotta do is think on your feet.”

There was a brief quiet. The weight of her gaze lingered on him as he dipped into a deep purple and started shading along the inner edge of the brow ridge.

“This is the lesser Northwestern horned hawkweasel,” she said at length, adopting the deep, plummy tone of a nature-documentary narrator. “Or the midnight mink. Fierce far out of proportion to their size, these crafty, fearless creatures feed mainly on fish and whatever birds they can catch. Usually solitary, as the moon wanes they gather up in gangs to hunt their favored prey – nightmares. The bigger, the better.”

“Where’s a winged weasel gonna find nightmares in the depths of the Cascades?” Stan plucked out a liner brush and limned the eyes with a perfect pinstripe of metallic teal.

“Everything that can think has dreams. These little fellas like the blackest, bleakest ones they can find, and some of the denizens of these forests have deep and terrible dreams. If not for these guys, some of those denizens might wake up.”

Stan snorted in soft amusement as he laid highlights in along the horns. “Not terrible for a first shot. Soos might dig the idea, and hell, at least Lovecraft’s long since out of copyright, yeah?” He sat back, assessing, then touched on a last few dots of color. “This is about as show-ready as it’s gonna get. Hang on a sec.”

He toted the not-quite-weasel down to the office, setting it on the least cluttered file cabinet for later – it was going to need a story card at the very least – then swung by the deserted gift shop, cracking the vending machine open to fish out a couple of ice-cold Pitts. Clary was packing away tools by the time he returned to the kitchen, and he set a can within easy reach. “Nothin’ like a cold one to finish up the day. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She picked up her can, popped it, then tapped its edge against his. “I’ve got to wonder.” He eyed her, momentarily wary, as he dropped into his own chair. “What possessed a man from New Jersey to land way out here in the hinterlands of Oregon? It’s certainly pretty, but this is about as close to the absolute middle of nowhere as I’ve ever been.”

“You actually interested in me? Or do you ask everyone these kinda questions?”

“I’m mainly interested in you.”

That was a bit of a surprise. A chuckle snagged in Stan’s chest as he met her frank regard. “Usually the longest I can get people to listen to me is when I’m sellin’ somethin’, and even then it’s tough luck.”

“I don’t buy that for a second.” The faint curve of her smile was half obscured by the rim of her soda can. “No way you kept this place running for so long without knowing how to string an audience along in suspense.”

“It’s, ah, it’s a knack. I’ve been good at it ever since I was a kid.” He cleared his throat and took a lingering sip, buying a moment. Her brows quirked in expectation. “So, you’re serious?”

“How long do you plan on leaving me in suspense?”

“The last time someone started askin’ personal questions, she tried to eat me,” Stan muttered. “Can you imagine? I’m practically skin and bones.”

That bought him a sharp laugh, right on the beat. “Come on. You can’t just leave it there.”

Stan took a long look at her, then drew breath, fired up the cockiest grin in his repertoire, and launched in. “So, y’see, there’s this irresistible thing called ‘revenge’….”

Clary was a good listener and a better interrogator, absorbing whatever outrageous half-truth he had to offer without scoffing, pressing with well-targeted questions at every opportunity. Every time she cut close to the bone he’d flash her something shiny to distract. Verbal sleight-of-hand was so second nature by now that he barely noticed doing it. Stan couldn’t tell how much of it she was buying, which was disconcerting as hell.

In the end he paid for the pizza. She slipped in behind him to press an overgenerous tip into the delivery driver’s hand.

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There are plenty of repair records in the glove box, the old manual, and some other potentially interesting odds and ends.

Just take the repair records and the manual.

Go through all the personal paperwork.

Is there any money in there?

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #oclicious #fanfic

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onestowatch · 6 years

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TOUR DIARY: From Osaka to Tokyo, Take a Trip Through Japan With Computer Magic

Photo: Chad Kamenshine Computer Magic is the futuristic cosmic-pop brainchild of Danielle Johnson. The singer, writer, part-time model and actress, composer, producer, and artist crafts electronic-minded pop music that exists in a far-out realm, belonging to a time perhaps a few centuries in the future or to a distant planet outside our own universe. Despite Computer Magic’s futuristic and otherworldly elements, the music she crafts is rooted in personal and relatable themes -- a facet she has been able to transform into a cult-like following. Johnson’s following extends throughout the known universe, but she has a particularly devoted and avid following in Japan. Having released three full-length records exclusively in Japan, a Computer Magic show in the Land of the Rising Sun is a sight to behold. Unfortunately, plane tickets don’t come cheap, so we have the next best thing – an exclusive tour diary of Johnson’s latest tour in Japan. Put on Computer Magic’s latest album Danz for the perfect backing soundtrack as we travel with Computer Magic from Osaka to Tokyo.

My favorite convenience store in Japan is Family Mart. They are all over the place, and I literally get everything from there.

Breakfast in the AM is basically Onigiri, black coffee, and Pocari Sweat (it sounds weird but it's basically like a Gatorade type drink!)

First day we visited some record stores to see the new albums in Osaka. ‘Super Rare’ is my latest release from Fastcut Records.

Danz, another release at Flake Records. Dawa the owner gave me a really cool shirt! It's on my Instagram if you wanna see it (link). Also.. you can see Davos in the background there too. Can't believe my records are all the way in Japan!

I tried to learn some Japanese before we went, but I still can't read very well. I love this menu nonetheless!

Getting out some yen from the bank to get some souvenirs for our friends!

Did a little more walking around, not really jet-lagged all! just having fun experiencing everything in Osaka.

Giulliana loves the drums!

And now we head to Tokyo on the Shinkansen (bullet train). It goes super fast. We should have them in the USA. Of course, you know I had to break out my Nintendo Switch. (I'm on Twitch, by the way!) Haha!

This is our friend Hiromi at Tokyo, representing an original Computer Magic shirt, wow! We love you Hiromi!

Giulliana wearing a super cool jacket, soundcheck time.

Another soundcheck pic, gotta make sure everything works!

After the show of course we went and did some karaoke! You get to dress up so we picked school girl uniforms because, why not.

And then Giulliana found this Banana in the costume area, and it was the best time.

They even have Computer Magic - “Running!” But I've already performed that song so many times. Haha.

The next day was an off day so we walked around Shibuya and Harajuku. Don Quijote is such a fun store to shop in.

Also Tokyu Hands is great, because they have stuff like this. I've never needed an item so much in my life. Zoom in to the cat picture, it's so good.

Put up some stickers around town. See if you can spot the CM sticker!

Me with a vintage disco dress I picked up in Harajuku.

Cool shoes, wish I enough money to buy them all.

We went to a hedgehog cafe!

Got a Famicom clone for like 18 American dollars and some cool Japanese games!

Of course we went to a Purikura Arcade.. you have to in Japan!

And another just because!

Giulliana won us both these massive plush Sumikko Gurashi pillows! we brought them back and used them as pillows on the plane!

Ending the night with some ramen from Ichiran!!

Our last show in Tokyo was very fun! Here are some fan photos. We didn't get the chance to take many during the show cause we were busy, but it was a lot of fun.

X-Girl (I modeled clothes for them) sent some flowers to the venue!

Last day I went record shopping!

We had a blast. :)

#tour diary #computer magic #pop #electro pop #indie

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amazingworkspaces-blog · 7 years

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The And Now For Something A Bit Different Workspace

Here are some of the products that make this workspace an Amazing Workspace:

It's a little different from most battlestations you see posted here, but I like it. It has that cool retro feel and matches the rest of the stuff I have around the room and gives it character.

If you like quieter keyboards but you hate mushy rubber domes I would definitely recommend this one, it has the best of both worlds. Only thing to watch for is it's a PS/2 board so make sure your mobo has a real keyboard port before you go out and buy one lol.

RAM: 16GB DDR4

Finally in the middle you can see my little sub which helps add a little extra kick to the stereo and the two smaller speakers on top of the desk which control the sub and act a little more like a "center" channel.

The Microsoft keyboard may not be mechanical but this is probably one of the nicest rubber dome keyboards I've ever used. It's not loud like a Model M but it has enough resistance in the keys that it feels similar to my Model M2 without all the noise.

It's got a nice BSR player in it which can stack multiple records and play them back one after another before turning itself off after the last album so you can create your own vinyl playlists and just let it go!

The microphone is just some generic 60s radio mic I picked up at a yard sale for $0.50. Eventually I want to make a real mic stand for it so it doesn't need to stand upside down on my desk. For now though, it works fine for discord with my friends and the likes.

This setup doesn't joke around. Say what you will about Yorx but this thing actually has super impressive sound quality when you run a PC through the auxiliary port on the back. It has great sound reproduction for everything I've tried and when you turn it up you can hear it from the living room above it so it's got great volume also.

HDD: Seagate 250GB master with 3439d power-on hours and no signs of stopping

HDD: Seagate 1TB slave split into two 500GB partitions

Here is my little mixing and control center for all things audio. I got the mic amp and mixer off my friend for free a while ago and they've been working great for everything.

Now don't worry! This isn't an incorrectly linked r/retrobattlestations post! These stickers on the front lie to you! :P

Ignore the wiring... you're not actually supposed to see under the desk! (This is partly why I put these speakers here :P)

The mic amp has also been pretty good for recording ideas and rough tracks for various songs my friend and I are working on with our band.

And welcome to the vintage HI-FI section of my desk! As I mentioned earlier this Yorx stereo kicks ass pumping out the jams from my desktop. The turntable I got at a thrift store a while ago for $7.50 because the power switch was jammed. Some light hammer work on the inside got it all moving again.

Mobo: MSI Gaming M3 B150

The mouse is also a generic early 2000s Microsoft mouse but I love the feel of it. It's a very responsive optical mouse, it's simple and it feels nice. I don't need fancy macro buttons and stuff on my mouse, just two clickers and preferably a scroll wheel. I think I have at least 4 of these mice laying around here somewhere lol

Now if you walked into this room and looked at the desks on the opposite wall from this one you would almost think you found a time capsule to some 90s computer shop, so when I was building my new machine I wanted the new case to match the aesthetic of the room, and a transparent RGB case didn't fit the bill :P (not to mention it was out of the budget)

And because all of you guys seem to post it here's my mouse and keyboard. Nothing fancy but it works for what it's needed.

CPU: Intel I5-6500 @ 3.2GHz

Currently hooked up to the mixer I have my turntable (the board has a really nice pre-amp built in for this), cassette deck, mic amp and 8 track player all run on the various inputs. This makes it really easy for me to archive the old tapes and/or create vinyl rips of all my old albums because I can just run the one cable from the mixer into my PC and I don't need to worry about moving around cables or playing around with inputs for the various equipment anymore.

When I got the parts in initially I was looking around for a new old case. I was looking around on kijiji and the likes for people selling old Win9x boxes for cheap that I could strip and throw the new stuff in but didn't really find anything.

GPU: PowerColor Radeon RX 480

The new PSU I got for the build has these annoying covers over all the cables and also way more cabling than the last one so I couldn't really find a nice way to run all the cables and make it look nice with all the drives and everything in there, but no big deal you can't see inside the case except for adding upgrades anyway! Makes it faster and easier to do that regardless. :P

(Fun fact if you look up the service tag on the Dell site you can still find manuals and Windows 98 drivers for this exact model of PC!)

Luckily, when I was talking to my uncle about this he was saying he had his old Dell he got in 2001 that wasn't working anymore so he'd be willing to give me the case. When I got it I just had to make one small modification where I had to bend a metal bar off the back above the port guard so I could fit the new one in and everything else just slid perfectly into place.

Sorry for the quality... I took at least 10 pics of the whole desk and I could not get the camera to focus properly for the life of me. Either way, this is my battlestation I have set up in my basement workshop.

Specs:

Finally for the OS I'm running Windows 7 Pro 64bit with Classic theme, classic start and a few more shell tricks to make it more usable.

Anyway... I guess you could call me a bit of an audiophile. In total I have 7 speakers hooked up around the desk. Under the table as you can see I have the two crate speakers which are powered by my large 80s stereo and in the previous picture you can see the two slightly smaller crate speakers above the desk. One is on the shelf to the right and the other sits on top of my desktop to the left (stupid wall :P).

#amazing workspaces #desk setups #desk setup #workspaces #desk #desks #setup #setups

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holley4734 · 6 years

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There are so many cool bands out there. I have a list on Twitter of several hundred bands. I’m pretty sure that In the Whale is on my Twitter list. They’re a couple of dudes from Denver who absolutely rock. Their new single “Highways” is out on June 29, which is today, so check it out. There’s a handy link to the single at the bottom.

They also agreed to do a guest post for you to read – here and now.

The ABCs Of Touring In A Small Band by In The Whale, a hard rock duo from Denver, CO

A– always ADVANCE the show. About a week before, we reach out the venue via email and go over all the logistics such as what time to arrive, how long we’re playing, what the deal is with money, parking, etc. There’s nothing worse than showing up to realize you’re tho only band playing and they want you to play four hours. Or not being able to find a parking spot, parking two blocks away, hauling all your gear down to the venue only to realize you have a reserved parking spot behind the building. These things can be avoided with some simple communication with the people putting on the show beforehand.

B– BANKING. Every few days, make sure to deposit any money you’ve made. You definitely don’t want to be walking around with a big ole wad of cash in your front pocket. #WalkingTarget

C– CRACKER BARREL is not just for Christians and old people. It’s delicious, fresh, well-made food and insanely cheap. No, they aren’t sponsoring us. It’s a fact! Agent Orange introduced us to this food chain, while we were on a two and a half month tour with them. Thanks, guys!

D– stop DRINKING so damn much! We’ve toured with bands that get hammered every night and they look like they got hit by a bus every day. A seven-hour drive with a hangover after sleeping for 4 hours in a van? No thank you. Take a break from the booze every now and then. Your body will thank you.

E– get some EARPLUGS. It’s not punk rock, but if you’re on a long tour, your ears get punished from hearing loud music every night. I (Eric) don’t wear them on stage, but I wear them when the other bands are playing. My ears used to ring at the end of the night. They don’t anymore.

F– make FRIENDS. Everything is a little bit easier when you make friends. That sketchy promoter isn’t going to want to short you on money if he likes you. That bartender may let you upgrade to a non-well drink for your drink ticket if he likes you. Hang out in the venue and talk to the people that are there. You just may make a friend you can hang out with the next time you come to town.

G– GOLD BOND. If you know, you know.

H– sign up for HOTELS.COM. If you book 10 hotels, you get the 11th for free. #NoBrainer

I– ILLNESS is almost unavoidable if you’re on a long tour. And being in an enclosed space for long periods of time with a sick person means you’re going to get sick too. Take multivitamins, drink tea, take DayQuil, and try to eat healthier. Are we getting less and less punk rock with each paragraph?

J– Flying J truck stops are a guaranteed clean bathroom. #NoBrainer.

K– KLEENEX. Traveling a lot means being in a whole bunch of different atmospheres every day. This can destroy your allergies. We keep a box of tissues in the van and use them often.

L– utilize a packing LIST. Did you get an hour out of town on the way to your next destination and realize you left your backpack at the Super 8? Now you have to turn back and hope to god no-one stole it. Left your backup guitar in Jacksonville and now you’re in Pittsburgh? Good luck getting the promoter to ship it to you! We have a packing list in the van and we check it every night. OK now I know we’re getting less punk rock.

M– bring your own MICS. Not because you’re a douche nozzle with a golden voice that has to sound them exact same way every time. Why? Because, how many lips do you think have touched that mic? Thousands? When was the last time that mic was cleaned? Do you think it has ever been cleaned? This is another thing that Agent Orange taught us. Bring your own mics and wash your hands frequently, and the tendency to get sick is much less.

N– get a case of Cup O’ NOODLES. Picture this: you had a late load in, the bar you’re playing only has snacks and is in an area where there are no restaurants around. You finish playing the show, load out, and it’s 2:30 in the morning. Nothing is open. You’re screwed. Have no fear! Grab your Cup O’ Noodles, ask the person who’s couch you’re sleeping on if you can use their microwave, and you got a full stomach baby!

O– OLIVE GARDEN. Unlimited soup, salad, and breadsticks. $11.49. #NoBrainer

P– PODCASTS are a great way to stay entertained on the road. Some of our favorites: Sword And Scale, The Jasta Show, The Ex Man with Doc Coyle, vintage Loveline shows, and The Joe Rogan Experience

Q– seriously QUIT drinking so damn much! We’ve seen too many of our friends quite literally drink themselves to death.

R– ROLL with the punches. Being flexible is an extremely important thing to remember. So many unexpected things happen out on the road. Blown tires, people vomiting on your van, people pissing on your van, the stage being the size of a postage stamp, hotel bedbugs, having to replace your engine, the venue making you pay for water…. all these things have happened to us and then some. Try your absolute hardest to roll with it and keep a positive attitude. You might go crazy, otherwise.

S– SELL the crap out of your merchandise! Have good looking shirt designs on soft shirts, and a variety of different items to choose from. This is a very very very important part of how you make money. Don’t just throw up a Gildan shirt with your band name on it, a burned CD, and a few stickers. Take pride in the merchandise you sell, put time and effort into it, and get your butt back there behind the merch table!! Do all this and I promise you it will pay off.

T– get some TRAFFIC CONES. Found the perfect parking spot right in front of the venue? Wanna go get some dinner but wanna keep your spot? Traffic cones.

U– be UNDERSTANDING towards your bandmates. If your bass player gets anxious in traffic, don’t make him drive during rush hour. If your drummer is a hot head, don’t make him handle the money. If your singer hates pop country, don’t play Florida Georgia Line in the van. If you’re the only smoker in the band, definitely don’t blast a bunch of cigs in the van! Know everyone’s buttons and don’t push them. Trust me, it will make things less stressful.

V– VAN MAINTENANCE is key. Our running joke in In The Whale is that the van is the highest paid member of the band. This is still true to this day. Keeping your van in working order is absolutely imperative. Being plagued by van troubles is possibly the most frustrating thing about touring. If you have to take a little less payout to get the tires rotated and the oil changed, for gods sake do it! And get the high mileage oil!

W– WATER. Drink it. A lot of it. Buy a case and put it in the van.

X– bring XTRA socks and underwear. Especially if you’re touring in the summer. We are sweaty boys. Do I need to elaborate?

Y– YOLO! Don’t forget that you do this because you love it! Touring is hard and stressful, but you experience so many different things and meet so many amazing people. You get to travel around and rock faces across the country. How awesome is that!?

Z– ZIGZAGS are a great promotional tool at festivals. Buy a bunch of rolling papers, write your band name and set time on it, and pass them out. Boom! You’ve got a flyer that won’t get thrown away.

Catch us on tour this summer: www.bandsintown.com/inthewhale

Check out our new single “Highways” on Soundcloud

116 Days of Guest Posts: In the Whale There are so many cool bands out there. I have a list on Twitter of several hundred bands.

#116 Days of Summer Guests #guest posts #In the Whale #music

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Don’t pack light, pack clever – what a fashion editor puts in her suitcase | Fashion

In the art of packing, as so often in life, you learn through your mistakes. And I have made a few. My career to date has been an extended, fully immersive practical and rigorous examination in the art of the suitcase. I’m talking high-stakes, PhD-level packing. The kind of packing that will see you right when New York fashion week outfits need to contend with blizzards (par for the course in February) or hurricanes (commonplace in September). The kind that won’t let you down when you get an unexpected call in your Milan hotel room to say that Donatella Versace is hosting Jennifer Lopez’s wedding, and do you want to come to Lake Como, like, now? In the course of a decade and a half in fashion, the two practical life skills I have notched up are, first, being able to assemble a filling and balanced meal representative of all the major food groups from a tray of canapes, even while that tray is moving; second, how to pack.

Rule 1: forget about packing light

I don’t trust people who pack light. They are smug gits, and selfish with it. Those hand luggage-only types, who look on patronisingly while you check in your case, only to get through security and insist on spending the time that you had earmarked for cava looking for sandals in Accessorize when it occurs to them that they might actually be hot in trainers after all. Then, once you have arrived at your destination, they realise they have forgotten to charge their Kindle, and swipe your new Arundhati Roy. However, this is not carte blanche to stuff a suitcase. I consider my packing a failure if, on returning home, I unpack anything that I didn’t wear (except the in-case-of-bad-weather waterproof). I am hardcore about this, mainly because I hate ironing with an absolute passion, so clothes that haven’t been worn but need ironing again fill me with horror. Don’t pack light – pack clever.

Rule 2: the most important part of your holiday wardrobe is your suitcase

Away suitcase with built-in charger port

Let’s face it: most luggage is inexplicably ugly. Pulling your suitcase out from under the bed is as potent a moment in the holiday ritual as putting your out of office on, so I don’t get why the aesthetic ambition of most would make a chest freezer look streamlined. The new Away brand is not as glam as Goyard (sometimes I walk past the label’s Mount Street store and contemplate giving it my house in part exchange for a suitcase), but it is chic and streamlined. And at £225 for a case, it’s about a hundredth of the price. Plus, the built-in battery and USB cable for charging your phone is actual genius, allowing you to hit the ground Instagramming.

Rule 3: pack two days in advance

Although I have no intention of ceding the moral high ground to the toothbrush-and-sarong brigade, I acknowledge the ignominy – not to mention the expense – of a case that gets slapped with the HEAVY sticker at check-in. As a recovering over-packer, I have found that the best preventative technique is a cool-down period. Instead of packing the night before you leave, let the edit percolate, revisit it after 24 hours and you will realise that the bandeau dress you bought in a sale the year before last but have never worn needs to go to the charity shop, not the beach.

Rule 4: wire hangers and dry-cleaner bags are your friend

We ironing-phobes are expert at transporting clothes uncreased. Jeans, sweatshirts, running leggings can be folded. T-shirts, knitwear can be rolled. Anything in danger of creasing up – dresses, shirts – goes on wire hangers. Pull one of those plastic bags from the dry cleaners over the top of the bundle. Do not pack this the night before. Leave it hanging up somewhere you definitely won’t forget it – I go with behind the front door – until you are ready to leave. Then fold in half or in three as necessary for the size of the case, and pack. Take it out the minute you arrive, shake and hang up.

Rule 5: think about what you will want to wear

Sounds obvious, but this is where many people go wrong. We have a drawer of “holiday clothes”, which are there because they are colours that work with a tan, or because there is no other opportunity to wear that mini kaftan with the pom-pom trim. Forget that drawer. Instead, think about waking up on holiday, and what you will most want to wear, and pack that. So if you are going on a villa holiday with friends and you have small children who get up early, it might be that you need nice pyjama bottoms and T-shirts for the dawn shift, swimwear and denim cutoffs for the beach, and then a couple of really nice maxi dresses that make you feel glamorous and protect your ankles from unglamorous mosquito bites, for the post-tea bath/bed bit. So pack four of each of those outfits.

Rule 6: don’t be too sensible

There is no such thing as overdressed on holiday. Who says you can’t wear a party dress as a beach cover up if you want to? Take your absolute favourite clothes, the ones that bring you maximum happiness – whether that’s beaten-up old shorts or sequinned finery.

Rule 7: avoid the high-heel trap

Packing gets really boring, what with finding the right adaptors and debating whether to take the hairdryer and counting out knickers and remembering to screw the top on the shampoo bottle properly. So at some point you start lobbing in any old tat, telling yourself that you can always dress it up with a pair of shoes. Do not do this. One pair of mid-height block or wedge heels – three inches max – is all you should take. If an outfit won’t look great with these shoes, it’s not coming on holiday. Add one pair of flat sandals and one pair of loafers or trainers.

Rule 8: ignore other people’s packing rules

For instance: every “my suitcase” feature I have ever read talks about packing scented candles. What is with that? It baffles me. Why would you sit inside sniffing a candle when you could be outside with the scent of barbecue? Other people’s rules make no sense. Make your own.

My five suitcase essentials

A black kaftan

Seafolly kaftan, £38, Selfridges

Black looks great on holiday. The pull-on-over-your-bikini garment is crucial. It should cover your shoulders, and not be too short. Mine is ancient and the brand I bought it from doesn’t seem to exist any more. If I were to lose it, I would buy this one from Seafolly.

H by Hudson Arianna white loafers, £87.50 in the sale

White loafers

I have worn these shoes at least three days a week since I got them in the spring. They go with everything and are the most comfortable shoes I have ever worn. I will be wearing them to the airport.

The perfect swimsuit

Violetta swimsuit, £210, by Three Graces

Expensive, yes. But I actually think this swimsuit, ideally worn with a pair of large diamond stud earrings, might be the most elegant outfit it would be possible to wear.

Earrings, £16.50, Topshop

Holiday earrings

2017 is a vintage year for the holiday earring. A swishy, gelato-coloured silky chandelier is the only elevator-item your suitcase needs.

Mosquito-proof eveningwear

Seaside trousers, £83, J Crew

On holiday, my after-dark dress code revolves around my ankles not becoming an all-you-can-eat buffet for the local mosquitoes. These trousers have a “Gwyneth Paltrow at a clam bake” thing going on, which adds an aspirational gloss to what is effectively an insect repellent.

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