Woot's Oekaki Image Feed

Customizable Kiki (Rotation)

Fri, 06 Nov 09 22:17:24 -0800

Customizable Kiki (Rotation)

Huh. So the rotate function works. Let's see what we can do with some of these available options.

Customizable Kiki (Little Black Dress)

Thu, 05 Nov 09 23:56:04 -0800

Customizable Kiki (Little Black Dress)

The parade continues unabated! Much to the chagrin of everyone not me.

Customizable Kiki (Geeky Outfit)

Thu, 05 Nov 09 20:33:25 -0800

Customizable Kiki (Geeky Outfit)

I polished up the interface a bit, and bought her a saucy geek outfit.

Customizable Kiki (Default)

Thu, 05 Nov 09 20:32:03 -0800

Customizable Kiki (Default)

Just something I was fooling around with. My plan was to make a few variants using this template. What say you?

All Access Part 1.5

Wed, 04 Nov 09 22:50:16 -0800

Styrofoam cups and crumpled up flyers caught fitful gusts and then were dropped when the eddies slowed, discarded for a second time by the wind. Dawn was just another item littering the ground; one weighted by self pity until she felt she'd never move again. If she could, she probably would have shifted out of the puddle of stale beer that she landed in.

God, please let that be beer.

The thought of mystery fluid dampening the seat of her cargo pants disgusted her, but the knowledge that she was too apathetic to do anything about it was far worse. Taylor was right to call her out on her passivity. Inaction was not an option at this point. No white knight was going to swoop down and carry her away. If she wanted to get home, she was going to have to take the first teetering steps. So she rose and turned towards the parking lot where the crowd was steadily migrating.

Her best bet would be to look for Vermont license plates, overcome her timid nature, and ask those people if she could ride with them. Of course she couldn't offer them much money for gas. What payment would total strangers, probably male, expect in return? Dawn tugged the ragged hem of her t-shirt further down her boobs in an attempt at modesty. Taylor's awful tantrum had her expecting the worst from people.

Which is why she swung her elbow in a short but vicious backwards arc in response to a tap on the shoulder and the sick realization that a person had snuck behind her a second time today. There was a satisfying thud as her arm connected with soft area just under the assailant's ribcage. The angular momentum of this swing spun her around to face him. "Thought you could just go and-"

"And..." She didn't get a good look at his face because he was doubled over and wheezing, but upon seeing the distinctive green mohawk, she realized that she had knocked the wind out of Johnny Chainsawhands, lead singer of FEMA Death Camp, her favorite band on earth. "And- I am *so* sorry! Ohmygod, ohmygod! Are you all right?" She rushed to his side, unsure of how to speed his recovery.

For a while he could only move his lips like a fish out of water. Finally he squeezed a few breathless words past a grin. "Totally. Worth it."

"I feel awful. If there's anything I can do, please let me make it up to you."

Johnny raised an eyebrow and Dawn blushed at how bold her offer might seem. "You can tell me why a pretty girl is all alone by the stage when everyone else left. Maybe you can even pad my ego a bit by lying and and saying you wanted to meet the band."

"Oh but I did. I mean; I still do. I mean; it's complicated."

"The gig's over. I got nothin' but time. Care to continue this conversation backstage?"

Fun Size

Sat, 31 Oct 09 22:35:27 -0700

Fun Size

"Doing a bit of candy-assisted sulking, I see," Raven teased, as she strode around the bed to get an unobstructed view of her friend's scowling face. "I thought you were supposed to be on a diet."

Madeline stuck out her tongue. "Cackles Bars are a diet. Technically. Just not a very good one. Besides, they're fun size; they don't count."

"They count if you eat the entire bag. Now I'd love to go back and forth like this all day, but why don't you just tell me what's bothering you? I noticed the webcam's off and you usually don't do this kind of snacking pro-bono."

"OK. Remember that weird guy I was telling you about?"

Raven's brow furrowed. "Can you narrow it down a bit? Weird guys are your bread and butter."

"The seXXXpander."

"That troll? I thought you banned him already."

Madeline looked away, embarrassed, and barked a high nervous laugh. "Well... I'll let him troll on his dime all day long. You know me, I'm a sucker for a sucker. The dude's a goldmine. But I don't think he's trolling. I did a little research. If you go over to the computer, it's still up in the browser window." Mad saw the wary look Raven was giving the screensaver and guiltily added, "it's not some juvenile Two Girls, One Spatula-style prank this time. Just go."

Raven nudged the mouse as if it might bite her. "Ugh!" On screen was a crudely drawn picture of a cartoon character shooting milk lasers out of her breasts accompanied by a story that appeared to be a continuous run-on sentence. "Fine, so he's no Michelangelo. But it's just a garden-variety anime nerd. They're actually harmless."

"Now hit the back button."

"Woah," Raven said, scrolling down and down. "How many of these things has he made?"

"Now remember that character you saw earlier? The one with the two long shocks of aquamarine hair? It's someone called Michiko from a popular show for girls called Lovely Lovely Sailor. Apparently he 'lives' with the entire female cast. Now look what happens to her hair in the strips from the last month."

Raven frantically clicked links. "It turns black and gets pinned up into loops with skulls instead of those weird orbs. Aww, HE WUVS U!" She kept clicking. "Now you're in a wedding dress. How dare you cheat on me?" she chided, still clicking. "Wait, what's happening here? Oof! Oh dear lord, what is *THAT*?" Raven spun back around on the swivel chair, rubbing her eyes and appearing green around the gills. "Toss me one of those candy bars. I threw up in my mouth a little and I'd like to get rid of the horrible taste."

"Welcome to my world."

We last saw Madeline in The Unrepentant March of Biology.

All Access Part 2

Wed, 28 Oct 09 00:37:03 -0700

All Access Part 2

"Dawb, baim weebby sobby abow bu wai aye tweebbed youb errwibow," said Irene, earnestly but unintelligibly around a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

Dawn turned off the TV she was only half-watching and sat up a little straighter in bed, turning towards the bathroom. "Come again?"

"P-tuh!" Irene spat and rinsed before continuing. "I was trying to say that I'm really sorry about the way I treated you earlier. It's just that the way you looked didn't jive with your lost kitten routine. And if I was a little mean or anything in the van, I apologize."

"Aww, don't sweat it. I'm sort of used to getting the cold shoulder from other girls. I thought you were jealous of all the attention I was getting from Johnny."

Irene made a face. "Huh? You mean my brother? Here- I'll let you in on a little secret. As soon as he puts down the guitar and steps offstage, the famous Johnny Chainsawhands persona dissolves and he turns back into a teddy bear. He falls in love with every groupie that flings herself at him. And after they've had their fun, me and the band are left to sweep up the broken pieces of his heart. Nobody wants to see him mope around so we've all agreed to try and deflect the female advances that come his way. It sounds cruel, but really, it's the humane thing. He's a hopeless romantic that needs all the protection a little sister can give.

"So he stumbles across you: sniffling and abandoned. I'm thinking this is some new kind of ploy to make him fall head over heels and it's totally working. Meanwhile, everyone's annoyed that he played the Chivalry Card and pledged to take you back home until you start talking and prove yourself to be anything other than the usual vapid fangirl type. By the way- how was it to have a van full of converts hanging off your every word?"

Dawn angled her face away to keep the other girl from seeing her blush. "Everyone's been great to me. Getting to meet FDC, getting to *travel* with the band is incredible. And such a change of luck! My head's still spinning. It's way more than I deserve."

"Nonsense. I expect you're the type of person that's continually selling themselves short. Really it's no trouble. As band manager and the only female, I always get my own motel room anyways. You don't mind sleeping with a girl, do you? I don't bite."

Thankfully, the room was dark enough to hide Dawn's deepening blush. "No. I mean, well- for food and everything. I don't have a lot of cash on me. I paid for gas on the way out. Taylor was supposed to handle it on the way back, and you know how that turned out."

"Continental breakfasts and diner food is still cheaper than a bus ticket back. Consider it compensation for taking such a meandering route home, alright? Now let's try and get some sleep."

There was a long pause as they sought comfortable positions atop the lumpy mattress. Then Irene whispered "Dawn? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah."

"If you're still guilty about it, how do you feel about selling t-shirts at our next gig?"

All Access

Fri, 09 Oct 09 15:09:16 -0700

All Access

"Oh my god, that was fucking amazing! You were right- they're even better live!" Dawn gushed, brushing a shock of blue hair out of her eyes to better navigate the dispersing crowd. "I even thought I saw Johnny looking at me!"

Taylor caught the busty girl's arm and brought her to a halt. "Then why are you headed back to the parking lot when we can go and meet the band? After all, we've got two backstage passes."

Dawn scrutinized the wristband on her right arm. "This doesn't say anything about- Eek!" Taylor had used the opportunity to sneak behind her friend and grab overflowing handfuls of boob.

"Get it? Big. Fat. Backstage. Passes," she said in her huskiest voice, punctuating each word by hefting Dawn's ponderous left and right breasts. "C'mon, flash these babies at security and we'll be saying hello to FEMA Death Camp before your nipples have time to get hard." Taylor's hands slid upwards from the sweat-slick lower slopes, slowly outwards till they almost grazed Dawn's hyper-sensitive areolae. "I bet they're hard now just thinking about Johnny Chainsawhands with his shirt off."

"No!" Actually they were, but Dawn wasn't about to give Taylor the satisfaction of discovering this inconvenient fact. She nabbed Taylor's wrists and peeled the girl's hands off her bust.

"No?"

"You heard me. Count me out. You're making this weird, being manipulative."

"If it wasn't for me poking and prodding, you'd still be at home sitting on your ass. Didn't you enjoy the concert? Then trust me on this. Just flash those udders and I'll handle the rest."

"Why do you think you can get me to do your bidding with insults? Why are you being so shitty to me?"

"I don't think you understand how this works. I need you, or more accurately- these," she moved to cup Dawn's boobs again but was thwarted by a quick defense. Being denied sent Taylor into a rage. "Do not fuck this up for me! I drove us across three states and now we're going to meet the fucking band! If we don't, then have fun walking back. Christ. The body of a porn star and the mind of a Girl Scout. Those tits are wasted on you." She waited for a response but none was forthcoming. The purple haired girl spun around and stormed off towards her car. "Fine! And don't even think about following me."

Dawn was so weak in the knees, she couldn't have perused the girl if she had wanted to. Instead, she sat down in a heap amidst the crushed plastic beer cups and cigarette butts and thought long and hard of what to do next.

Choices, Choices

Wed, 16 Sep 09 22:35:35 -0700

Choices, Choices

The restaurant's door opens, silhouetting an incredibly voluptuous figure against the sunset streaked sky. She strides in confidently, searching the crowded lobby for someone. With each step her massive chest jiggles- no, quakes; frolicking on a muffin topped trampoline. Thick hips sway seductively. Then she stops. She's looking at you looking at her.

"Oh my god!" you think to yourself. "This is Anne!" You fumble with your wallet and retrieve the picture of her there for verification. She's much heavier than the photo shows, but it's definitely her. Same cute face. You're about to say something but you notice that something has changed. Suddenly she's self conscious, futilely trying to stretch the fabric of her top over her pudgy midriff. Her eyes are fixated on the Polaroid in your hand. What do you do or say?

	Avoid eye contact and head for the exit.
	"Uh, you're a lot skinnier in your photograph."
⇒	"Wow, you look Fantastic!"

The enthusiasm in your tone melts away her hesitancy and in a few bouncy steps she engulfs you in a too-brief hug. The memory of her softness pressed against you and the lingering smell of her perfume renders you momentarily speechless. Luckily, Anne is more than able to pick up the slack in the conversation. "I'm so glad we could meet in person," she gushes. "The internet is great and all, but it can't beat the real thing."

"I have to admit- you had me freaked out for a minute there when you held up that old photo. It is a bit... outdated. And well, I thought that might cause some problems. Believe it or not, I've had guys look at the same picture and make a mad dash for the door!" Then, laughing to herself, she added, "maybe if I get a little wider they won't be able to squeeze past! Anyway, I'm happy I didn't scare you off. Although if I keep talking like this I probably will!"

What do you do or say?

A text-box-free version is also available.

Lost Irony

Sun, 13 Sep 09 21:14:38 -0700

Lost Irony

They has only been at the fair for an hour, and already Melissa had to break up three fist fights, all senseless brawls sparked by her meatheaded date's jealous streak. It was getting ridiculous, not to mention embarrassing.

"But you saw how he was looking at you!" Clive fumed, constrained now, yet still eager to continue his assault on the bloodied heap of a man lying crumpled on the grass.

Melissa was forced to explain things again to him. "The poor guy was just reading my shirt. I told you this was going to happen. I don't know why I even agreed to wear the stupid thing. I must have been temporarily insane."

"He was checking out your tits. Just like it says not to!"

"But you have to look at my chest to read the message. It attracts more attention than if it didn't say anything. Look at how small the words 'at my' are. You have to really focus on them."

"I know what it says- it says not to look at your tits! I bought the shirt. I can read," Clive declared with pride.

It was going to be way easier to let him think he won this little argument. Melissa capitulated with a sigh. Frankly she was getting frightened by his combination of dim-witted-ness and swift brutality. She was going to have to use all her wiles to come up with a way of dumping him that didn't involve a trip to the emergency room. Lost in thought, she didn't see the brewing storm ahead.

"Hey pal- what the fuck you lookin' at?!"