Pseudomammal

vruba and I made a little game called Khromax. It’s simple and addictive and has pretty moving colors and sounds.

You can play it on that there web site right now. Or, if you have an iPhone or iPod Touch and are willing to part with the outrageous sum of $0.99, you can play the much niftier multi-touch version on those things.

I did most of the programming  — unfortunately breaking my proud multi-decade streak of never learning any dialect of C — and Vruba did some graphic design. Also, bikko talked us into a few sensible things like version control and not being too terrified of openGL.

That game again is Khromax, on the web or on your phone. Tell your friends to ask for it by name!

If you go make yourself a collar at the collar factory — and really, why wouldn’t you? — you’ll find you now get a nifty little illustration of said collar, composited on the fly.

Some day I may get back to using LJ for things other than pimping my latest for-profit project, but, eh.

vruba and I made a thing.

Draftastic is a "collaborative editor". Like a wiki, only lots of people can edit a page at the same time, and you get to see what everyone else is doing.

There's still some polishing to do, and tons of features we want to add, but we've been using it ourselves for months, and figured there was no reason not to share. I think it's pretty neat.

If you want to co-author a screenplay with someone, or write some steamy group fanfic, or especially if you work for a large organization that maintains a lot of documentation or product copy and doesn't bat an eye at paying gobs of money for software, check it out.

Some notable stars of my friends list (though not nearly enough of you) have recently posted to let everyone know to what, in the most shallow sense, they've been up. Since I occasionally like to use this journal for its intended purpose — just to throw off my enemies, mind you — I shall now do the same.

To be sure, stuff still happens to me. I've still got schemes a-plenty, things I'm excited about, and there's still lots of grief and bitter, bitter rage to go around. But those things are news for another post. The tedious minutiae of my day-to-day existence — my own personal rat race — is this:

I have a piece of paper which authorizes me to think about biology in a semi-professional capacity. Half-way to being a real scientist, essentially. For having been allowed to earn this document, I owe some people a great deal of money. To keep the student loan mafia at bay, and to cover the comparatively small costs of living and being sometimes entertained, I get up in the morning, walk to a random coffee shop, position myself carefully so my laptop screen is facing a wall, and make web sites. Web sites where people can buy lovingly hand-crafted collars and matching cuffs with their sweetheart's name on them, or only the finest vibrators, nipple clamps, and floggers, literally by the dozen.

I always wanted to make the world a better place. I'd like to think, in some small, perverted way, I already am.