I ride my bike, I roller skate, don’t drive no car
Don’t go too fast, but I go pretty far
For somebody who don’t drive
I been all around the world
Some people say, I done all right for a girl
Brand new key
Logic for a Saturday
Just because it’s Saturday doesn’t mean it’s time to shut your brain off. It’s a muscle*; use it or lose it.
*Your brain is not actually a muscle.
One mean zucchini
I’m not a fan of pencils, and I’m not a fan of saxophones, but Jerry here (Jerry’s the short one, right? Jerry’s always the short one) is making me rethink my position.
I tried hiding the salami, but nobody found it
I learned a lot today.
I learned that if I decide to go on a raw food diet, I can still eat pepperoni and salami. I also learned that surrealist painter Max Ernst is alive and well and designing billboards for lunchmeat in Croatia.

Okay, maybe I only learned two things today.
Welcome to the Louvre
I’ve hesitated about making a post about a certain rich repository of storefront art at the corner of Vermont Avenue and Santa Monica Boulevard, because like the Mona Lisa’s nicked elbow at the hands of a Bolivian rock thrower, this place’s masterpiece has been desecrated.
But I’ve rethought my position. The whole place isn’t ruined by this one flaw, and to ignore the entire place is to ignore the other amazing works on display. So let me rectify this and share my favorites with you.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” moaned the harmonica

Still Life with Umbrella, Hot Dog, and Belt

Et Quid Amabo Nisi Quod Aenigma Est?

Cinderella‘s Christmas

Eternal Eye Mittens and the Horror of Pubescence

Oh geez, I can’t keep you here all day. I have so many more favorites. Anyway, this tour has made me think about what art really is, and whether my “it’s been desecrated” judgment about the altered masterpiece depicting the soldier in combat has been made too hastily.

Nope. That’s still bullshit.
Dali Moving & Storage
“There is nothing more sacred and surreal than the exportation of objects and events from the unconscious into the physical relm (sic) of the conscious.” (The Surrealism Server)





