Sickness has elevated me to Noah's Ark status...

So this is the overall theme for today. Thoroughly fucked and OVER this happiness invader. Onto visual validation of how every woman has felt, especially around these seasons translated through the brilliance of Eva Hesse. Eve Hesse's Spectres 1960 is one of the current exhibitions being shown at the Brooklyn Museum and if one finds them self in the business of performing self satisfying favors, indulge in one and go absorb her work.
On a heavier note, a dear friend has recently been the undeserving recipient of a horrific unveiling. My friend recently discovered that after years, 11 to be exact of faithful devotion to his wife, that she in fact has been seeking more intimate comforts out side of the marriage for a lengthy amount of time, coupled with the admission that she had not loved him since the second year they were together. All of this came to light after my friend had been battling with some of his own demons, massive amounts of money spent on said vampire  and was made to labor under the misapprehension that he was involved in a loving and caring relationship.
The only logic I can glean from this despicable situation brought on by a energy, time and real life whore is that self serving security found in varied dick tips will most certainly not provide the thing you are seeking to make you whole. One cannot replace or fill  a space that never existed. So to glean admiration from loose skin and old balls or possibly fit balls in this case (apparently it's a gym infused fling) would not only be futile but draw pity from the soul who searches this sort of attention out when said shell is well into mid life. Some buy a Ferrari, some have affairs. Moral? Don't get involved with a stripper that claims to be performing in order to satisfy a scholastic endeavor only to do nothing with finished product, be advised; if nothing changes, nothing changes. Keep your wits about you when a fake rack is showcasing affection towards you, it is most likely agenda ridden.

Death's Doorstep is getting Crowded....

It is day infinity that I have been feeling like this...
I would complain but I feel that would be an exercise of abuse in the way of this forum, so I'll shut the fuck instead and marvel at the genius of Gareth Pugh set to Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. Let these awe striking, would severe off left pinky (don't want to give up too much love) in manner of Saw to own one of these get ups that Pugh inspires, even demands psychically, that every woman should wear.
Secretly in my own adult Muppet day fantasy, I walk in wearing the Darth inspired garb to my local Starbucks, tell them what I think of their Mocha Caramel Macchiato prices & false goal oriented agendas of the patrons who frequent their establishment; all while channeling grace and charm of Audrey Hepburn, throw $500,000 in the air in crisp new bills to the patrons; only to have to the bills snatched up by the 1%s turn into eel sloths hybrids that kill upon being held by someone wearing Gap, inevitably, the whole place will be devoured leaving me canonized and satisfied.
Being sick leaves one with ample time on their hands to muse and plot, FYI.

Sick as balls....

I have been deathly sick for a couple of days & could not be more bummed if you told me Bush had been elected to receive  a Lifetime Achievement award. So my outlet for now will be this here soap box. With Beiber's spawn on the way I don't know how I have found the time to do anything else (^%$#&#&!) be that as it may, whenever I m in a bad way, I find that the genius of Vivienne Westwood is always there to inspire & encompass my inner punk to fight mediocrity & the case today: a sinus infection that makes me sound like an Italian Yeti on the verge of suicide.

Osama you have been replaced.

Holy shit. Never has a smoke ridden eye conjured such visions of terror. Sure, there's the obvious: she isn't really famous for anything, blah, blah, blah. However, the fact that this family is still benefiting monetarily from Mac & Cheese consumers that hang every ambition on Mommy & Daddy's spent aspirations of golden retriever, 2 children; 1 boy, 1 girl marry a girl with the following names; Megan, Jenny, Rebecca and my favorite psycho social, Sarah is frightening. As a society not only are we becoming more tolerant of ignorance & all around horse shit, we are inviting it in to every available cranny. How depressing would it be to witness a 13 year old girl wearing what any of the Kardashian slags sport? Fuck me, I may as well begin shooting heroin....AGAIN! Say no to these fucktards and their sorted agenda for your future, your money and your esteem. Not for nothing, but when did cellulite start to sell? It hasn't, one simply has to have a my little pony voice accompanied by a witless and voluminous quaff coupled with a beach ball bum....