gourd season - myweb.students.wwu.edumyweb.students.wwu.edu/bellb3/360/gourdseason.pdf · gourd...
TRANSCRIPT
GOURD SEASON
GOURD SEASON
AUDIENCE CONTENT OUTLINE
PROCESS
Age: 25-35
Sex: 75% female
Class: upper class - people who have time to read
Interests: fashion, home, food overall trend setter
Gourd Season is about a persons love for Gourds during that
special time of year.
It starts by addressing the reader,
“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on
some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket
on my dining room table”.
Then it goes into why this person loves gourds so much. the para-
graphs switch back and forth between addressing the reader
and talking about a deep passion for gourds. The speaker also
uses mass amounts of profanity to hype the reader.
CONCEPT
WORD LIST
GOURD SEASON is all about fall and fall decor. It
makes fun of people’s obsessions with fall, in a way
that is fresh and in your face. The content is so loud,
it pretty much speaks for it’s self. To amplify the hu-
mor of these words, the design will take a direction
that is simple and elegant. This will create a contrast
that will have tension between the visuals and the
content. My inspiration for this simple and elgant
design comes from beauty and food blogs.
Food
Gourds
Pie
Orange
Yellow
Brown
Fall.
Coffe
Latte
Basic Bitch
Ugg Boots
Soccer Games
Hot Coaco
Melenial
Pink
mommy blogger
GOURD SEASONINITIAL IDEASGOURD SEASONINITIAL IDEAS
GOURD SEASONINSPIRATIONAL RESEARCH
GOURD SEASONINSPIRATIONAL RESEARCH
GOURD SEASONCOLOR IDEAS
GOURD SEASONSKETCHES
GOURD SEASONFIRST DESIGNS
bas i c con tac tp ro jec t s
abou tpor fo l io
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHERFUCKERS
COLIN NISSAN
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up
to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked deco-
rative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphaz-ard like a crisp October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd neck-lace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds strain-
ing your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes
— specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felo-nies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both ex-tremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any
favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers.
Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Be-cause it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar
and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where
you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchi-ni-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from
me. Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to land on me is going to get his
avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to summer.
WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
IT’S FALL, FUCKFACES. YOU’RE EITHER READY TO REAP THIS FREAKY-ASSED HARVEST OR YOU’RE NOT.
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHER -FUCKERS
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and
arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to
look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker,
dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When
my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative
vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and
my house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp
October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work
on making a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like,
“Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd
onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
It ’s Fall, Fuckfaces. You’re Either Ready To Reap This Freaky-Assed Harvest Or You’re Not.
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You
know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent
Strokes — specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush
with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have
one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s
upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect
replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do
lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and
it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall,
fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well
then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get
KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above.
And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh
coming from me. Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a
floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow
that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to
summer.
WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
bas i c
bas i c con tac t p ro jec t s abou t por fo l io
Grab A Calendar And Pull Your Fucking Heads Out Of Your Asses; It’s Fall, Fuckers.
COLL IN NISSAN
IT’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON
MOTHER -FUCKERS
bas i c
con tac t p ro jec t s abou t por fo l io
COLL IN NISSAN
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in
a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up
to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of
shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked
decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my
house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just
blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd
necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just
going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
It ’s Fall, Fuckfaces. You’re Either Ready
To Reap This Freaky-Assed Harvest Or You’re Not.
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does?
Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes — specifically the one when
Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real,
didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real.
Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the
Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a
hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your
fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going
to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen,
zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud,
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and ar-range them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp Octo-ber breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on mak-ing a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply,
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes — specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual mo-lestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from me. Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to summer.
WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHERFUCKERS
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find
that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shel-lacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking
fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going
to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to
thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply,
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of
Diff’rent Strokes — specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a dis-turbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies
and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you
from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your
asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swing-
ing from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypi-cal Italian laugh coming from me. Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the
way back to summer.
WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
IT’S FALL, FUCKFACES.
YOU’RE EITHER READY TO
REAP THIS FREAKY-ASSED
HARVEST OR YOU’RE NOT.
GOURD SEASONFIRST DESIGN COMPS
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHER -FUCKERS
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and
arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to
look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker,
dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When
my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative
vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and
my house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp
October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work
on making a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like,
“Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd
onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
It ’s Fall, Fuckfaces. You’re Either Ready To Reap This Freaky-Assed Harvest Or You’re Not.
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You
know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent
Strokes — specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush
with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have
one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s
upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect
replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do
lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and
it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall,
fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well
then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get
KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above.
And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh
coming from me. Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a
floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow
that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to
summer.
WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
bas i c
bas i c con tac t p ro jec t s abou t por fo l io
Grab A Calendar And Pull Your Fucking Heads Out Of Your Asses; It’s Fall, Fuckers.
COLL IN NISSAN
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHER -FUCKERS
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and
arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to
look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker,
dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When
my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative
vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and
my house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp
October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work
on making a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like,
“Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd
onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
It ’s Fall, Fuckfaces. You’re Either Ready To Reap This Freaky-Assed Harvest Or You’re Not.
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You
know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent
Strokes — specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush
with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have
one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s
upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect
replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do
lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and
it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall,
fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well
then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get
KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above.
And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh
coming from me. Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a
floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow
that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to
summer.
WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
bas i c
bas i c con tac t p ro jec t s abou t por fo l io
Grab A Calendar And Pull Your Fucking Heads Out Of Your Asses; It’s Fall, Fuckers.
COLL IN NISSAN
IT’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON
MOTHER -FUCKERS
bas i c
con tac t p ro jec t s abou t por fo l io
COLL IN NISSAN
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in
a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up
to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of
shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked
decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my
house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just
blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd
necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just
going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
It ’s Fall, Fuckfaces. You’re Either Ready
To Reap This Freaky-Assed Harvest Or You’re Not.
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does?
Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes — specifically the one when
Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real,
didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real.
Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the
Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a
hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your
fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going
to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen,
zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud,
IT’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON
MOTHER -FUCKERS
bas i c
con tac t p ro jec t s abou t por fo l io
COLL IN NISSAN
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in
a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up
to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of
shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked
decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my
house is full of mutant fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just
blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd
necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just
going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and
quietly reply,
It ’s Fall, Fuckfaces. You’re Either Ready
To Reap This Freaky-Assed Harvest Or You’re Not.
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does?
Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes — specifically the one when
Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real,
didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real.
Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the
Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a
hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your
fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going
to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen,
zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud,
bas i c con tac tp ro jec t s
abou tpor fo l io
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHERFUCKERS
COLIN NISSAN
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WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
IT’S FA��� FUCKFACES. YOU’RE EITHER READY TO REA� THIS FREAKY-ASSED HARVEST OR YOU’RE NOT.
bas i c con tac tp ro jec t s
abou tpor fo l io
I T ’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASONMOTHERFUCKERS
COLIN NISSAN
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WELCOME TO AUTUMN, FUCKHEADS!
IT’S FA��� FUCKFACES. YOU’RE EITHER READY TO REA� THIS FREAKY-ASSED HARVEST OR YOU’RE NOT.
GOURD SEASONFINAL DESIGN COMPS . SKETCHES
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and ar-
range them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so
seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and
jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come
over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes.
Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant
fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October
breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a
beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds
straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without
breaking their gaze and quietly reply,
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know
what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes —
specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual mo-
lestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important
commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing
you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the
Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off
its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab
a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then
you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by
the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when
you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from me.
Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy
fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to
land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to summer.
It ’s fall, fuckfaces. You’re either ready to Reap this freaky-assed Harvest or you’re not
DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON
COLLINNISSAN
basic contact projects about portfolio
Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
basic
WELCOME TO AUTUMN,
FUCKHEADS!
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and ar-
range them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so
seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and
jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come
over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes.
Guess what season it is — fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant
fucking squash.
I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October
breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a
beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds
straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without
breaking their gaze and quietly reply,
Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know
what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes —
specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual mo-
lestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important
commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing
you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.
The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the
Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off
its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab
a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then
you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by
the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when
you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from me.
Consider yourself warned.
For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy
fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to
land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to summer.
It ’s fall, fuckfaces. You’re either ready to Reap this freaky-assed Harvest or you’re not
DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON
COLLINNISSAN
basic contact projects about portfolio
Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.
basic
WELCOME TO AUTUMN,
FUCKHEADS!
Trying to understand floats, wrapping, padding and molbile flow.
GOURD SEASONFINAL WEB LAYOUT
Desktop Molbile