The Green Lama & Assistance getting that shit off your vehicle.

We can all die feeling good about this life after viewing this fucking gem.
Fucking Tibetan Comics!!!!
Rubin Museum of Art
150 W. 17 St., NYC
Hero, Villain, Yeti
Tibet in Comics
December 9, 2011 - June 11, 2012

Next on the chopping block is the futile attempts of the Middle Class (fuckwad, Obama phased you out remember?), falsely perpetrating the "American Dream" families who are featuring these horrific sticker families on their vehicles.
The list of why this hellacious act is completely fucked are endless, however we will start with the obvious.
1. You are advertising to scumbags, pedophiles & "evil doers" alike how many kids you have, what they are into so these dregs know where to patrol in order to lure your children into their rape van, not to mention the tackiness rivals Wal Mart.

2. You are advertising that you voluntarily worship at the feet of the most tyrannical dictator posing as apple pie & drag your children along for the senseless act; planting the seed of unrealistic expectations, fictitious physical attributes that are featured as important in this life & most of all, that you are easily manipulated: Mickey Mouse the CEO of Disney.

(P.S. I will be right over to sell you arsenic ridden doughnuts claiming it will go to support my adult speed knitting team. We meet on Thursdays @ 6PM at the VFW. No jack wagon, not really.)

3. You are blatantly pointing out that the only enjoyment you have out of your life, is that which is advertised, hence seeking out constant approval & hopeful initiation of conversation started due to your lack of genuine meaningful relationships in your life. Stickers on your vehicle have come to be the only gold star you have acquired in adult life and the sadness is overwhelming.

You are better than this. You are better than stickers representing your essence on a fucking van. Say no to what others are doing and the deceitful ruse they are perpetrating. Your life is fuller than a sticker. Your accomplishments are worth more than a promulgated sticker. Don't chock up your life to fucking stickers; someone else's interpretation of what gauges your success in this world.
Be Deniro in Taxi Driver. "This is a man who stood up."
Am I looking a little too much into this? Absofuckingloutely. Do I care desperately about your conscious state in this world and want to invite vigorous action & eyes open sentiment? You bet your ass.

(Do not replace said stickers with ribbon magnets or those fucking puzzle Autism ribbons, or it will spawn another post altogether. Many Thanks.)

Sideshow Nostalgia & a spit out the side.

Nothing makes me more content than circus oddities. Sideshows are long gone & the majority of shows available are derived from L.A. inspired, Hot Topic esque beginnings. Granted, there are some superb ones, be that as it may, Sideshows are much akin to tattoo culture nowadays.
Back in say, Bowery days, tattoos were dangerous, raw & one had done more than climb a couple of rungs up the ladder had you acquired one. Now, any schmuck with a credit card can get one. The element is gone and an Ed Hardy bedazzled $100 T shirt has taken it's place. The positive sentiment would be a greater and more accepted understanding of tattoo culture, but it just sparks unwanted conversation in Home Depot, nothing more.
Sideshows have always fascinated me and for a time too long to be acceptable; from childhood I wanted to be in one. I always found the tattooed lady to be the most silent force. She was independent, a little scary, gorgeous and making a decent living.
Oddities; self made or not, are the universe's last gracious gift, don't look it in the mouth. Enjoy.

Why NYC Subways are God's best kept Secret.

Some days when I am the unfortunate patron in a 7-11 or other convenience store, the pangs of holy fuck I am WAY behind enemy lines claw at my innards & I miss the magic of NYC & even more so the subway.
There, I fade into the nothingness, am able to be a silent or vocal observer/participant depending on given situation & just absorb the "what the fuck" of the moment. Here in NJ, S.O.Sing in a sea of Old Navy connoisseurs, horrific perfume choices, juxtaposed between heavily laden sweatsuit customers doesn't make for a very diverse, inviting environment for an arrogant douche like me.
So here's to you NY. You weird batch of fucks that I hold near and dear to me heart. Remain in that cut & keep it real.

Fucked Cats & Sanja Iveković.

Goddamnit it's cold. What the fuck. You can fill a mutual void by bitching about it collectively at Sanja Iveković's current exhibition at the Moma entitled: Sweet Violence running till 3/26/12. Then you can act like you are above it all when you have gleaned a little from the show and forget the weather.

Here's some weird cats. Fuck you, it's that kind of day. XO