Personal Home Page of Jacob JiLG
NOT A.I. My art is NOT made by A.I.
đź’ľ Whoever smelt the wires, dealt the wires.
(whoever smelt it, dealt it)
🪨 Whoever mined the ore, supplied the metals.
(whoever mined it, supplied it)
Like those ones? Read more: https://jakejilg.com/tweets/
(more…)Jacob Jilg, college graduate of The Creative Center 2004 Omaha, Nebraska, Cartoonist, Illustrator, Computer Artist, Web Developer, Software Engineer </>, and Certified Therapist.
✅ “I Know Code”
âś… (I do NOT code with A.I.)
❌ Homeless, I have no work bench.
I created these in Koder on iPhone. I will do much better with a PC bench, mechanical keyboard, and mouse at home.
https://jilg.art/game/hangman.html
🎮 HangMan
https://jilg.art/game/number_pop.html
🎮 Homage to Math Munchers
https://jilg.art/app/pong.html
🎮 Pong Game
https://jilg.art/app/stitch.html
✂️ Stitch Photos
https://jilg.art/app/clock.html
⏱️ Canvas Digital Clock
https://jilg.art/app/list.html
đź“ť Text Sorting App
Short answer: Me!
(more…)
I still compose myself as if I’m NOT sleeping on the dirty ground with the bugs in a public park.
It’s mostly crickets and “Roly-poly” Isopoda (Pill Bugs). They don’t bite.
[Turn negative to positive, and...]
(more…)WordPress, https://JakeJiLG.com
đť•ŹTwitter Facebook â–·YouTube TikTok
Get in on these my “social” media public diaries before I delete them. I’ve made it my goal to silence all my external bla bla bla, and transition all my diaries to Journal App. I might leave up the profiles as dead online relics. I’ll delete my YouTube too when I get my own home and self-hosting server.
This is possibly a list of my most frequent largest failings in life, but that “failings” could just be from the coping skills of my poverty imposed on me from others, and the frequent unjustifiable wrath imposed on me from others.
(more…)Stop sucking me unless you want burned with fire from the sky like Sodom and Gomorrah.
God has plans to prosper me, but I need to stop my 3 deadly sins of eyeball 1.lust, which is 2.adultery, and 3.coveting my neighbors’ spouse(s) when she (or even he) doesn’t even know me, making a huge sinning fool of myself for nothing else, but the urge to nap during an inappropriately chit-chatty insomnia.
