some wild eyed drunkard with a face like sasquatch wanders through the gallery remarking, "I don't remember drinking that picture."
no you wouldn't, but it tried to rape you last year
"Well, what's wrong with me now?" he moans.
well for one thing you have a nose like Ronald McDonald and you smell like a cum stain that's passed through the bowels of sick old man
he mulls this over in his mind be for shouting with commanding jubilation, "FUCK IT! Lets get drunk!"
i would but I'm not ready to die
"Fuck it, let's toast to life and living!"
i agree to this and pour the tequila
"You see he grins, things are already getting out of control."
yes, i say, especially since we have no salt or limes
"Well then, what do we need glasses for?" he says, handing me a bottle of super glow
i immediately glue the shot glasses to the ceiling. call it instillation art and spit on the art critics toe, who says would stand for this sort of think and walks out of the show |
