Pimp My… Uh, Index Page
I know. I’m not supposed to use the word “pimp,” because it implies I want you to beat prostitutes or something. Please, do not beat prostitutes. Unless they attack you first. They travel the grasslands in packs, and sometimes, they get bitey.
I put up a new index page at terribleminds[dot]com. It looks like this, just in case you’re too lazy to click over there:
Do you hate it? You probably hate it. I can already see some things about it that I don’t like. It’s a bit busy, for one. For two, it doesn’t actually speak to the motifs of this page right here (though, it may eventually in the mythical redesign that lives in the dripping caverns of my skull). For three, it has too many fonts, which I think is some kind of cardinal sin against design. I might be making that up. I know that, in putting objects on a shelf, it’s good to have three things. But three fonts, I dunno. I’m living on the edge over here. Teetering on the precipice.
I do like the photo. It’s one of the handful of photos of mine that I really dig. I should do that as a post, sometime — note those rare photos I genuinely like. Most earn a squint and a modicum of disgust. Hrm.
I also like the inky-stainy bits. I used to chew King Hell out of pens (er, still do if they get near my mouth; thank Christ the iPhone doesn’t taste very good), and would often have black-stained teeth, or fingers, or pockets.
I open the floor to you, humble readers. Is it crap? Is it gold? Is it golden crap, shat from the gilded bowels of King Midas hisownself?