Archive for the ‘tldr’ Category
An artist is attracted to certain kinds of form without knowing why. You adopt a position intuitively; only later do you attempt to rationalize or even justify it. – Fernando Botero, 1932-20??
Fernando Botero Angulo is totally famous — so famous, in fact, he calls himself “the most Colombian of Colombian artists”. He’s so proud of his Colombian heritage, he dropped his last name and moved to France! In 2005, he gained public recognition by exploiting the Abu Ghraib slumberparty. I love his art in a way that makes me a bad person.
He paints stocky people with large foreheads (aka fivehead), beady eyes, and blank expressions. Now, I’m not saying he’s obsessed with Down’s Syndrome. I’m just strongly suggesting it. Read the rest of this entry »
Chrysler, LLC has announced that, after 8 years in production, the PT Cruiser will bow out of the automaker’s line in 2008. Along with the ill-received SUV/wagon/thing Pacifica and the “midlife-crisis-for-underachievers” known as the Crossfire, the ‘Cruiser will depart with little fanfare after the end of the model year’s production run. Read the rest of this entry »
Shirley Temple doesn’t hurt Shirley Temple Black, Shirley Temple helps Shirley Temple Black because Shirley Temple is remembered with love and with affection. I am thought of as a friend which I am.
- Shirley Temple on Shirley Temple (I didn’t make that up, honest)
Her admirers – middle-aged men and clergymen – respond to her dubious coquetry, to the sight of her well-shaped and desirable little body, packed with enormous vitality, only because the safety curtain of story and dialogue drops between their intelligence and their desire.
- Graham Greene on Shirley Temple
I really like to dress up as Shirley Temple and spank myself with a hockey stick
- Weird Al Yankovic on Shirley Temple
Shirley Temple is seriously creepy. Born 1928, this mop-headed Lolita just refuses to die. A child star in such pedophile-approved vehicles as Polly Tix in Washington (where she played a 4 year old prostitute), War Babies (a 5 year old barmaid), Wee Willie Winkie (don’t ask), and Littlest Rebel (in which she illustrates how happy those ever-jolly colored folk are as slaves — so long as they are allowed to dance and sing), Shirley grew up to choose the political life over the limelight. Read the rest of this entry »
I wrote this a few months before I joined Ration Reality. The events happenned on a warm, spring day, rather than a chilly autumn one. I hope you enjoy this little slice of my existence.
Though I’m in my third decade on this earth, I basically live the same way that I did in college. I don’t say this as a point of pride–more like a resignation to the fact that my home is pretty messy, I tend to eat my meals off of napkins with plastic utensils hijacked from fast food eateries and view sleep as an enemy, using all available resources to cheat it. Last night, when any normal person would have been slumbering, I was up chatting with a good friend, playing my bass guitar, annoying my wife, grooming my cat and laughing my ass off to some obscure British television program – largely at the same time! Do I realize that it’s abnormal? Of course. “Abnormal” pretty much describes my life as a whole, I suppose.
To complicate things (so to speak), I’ve lived in a big, beige suburban “planned community” for about 6 years now. When I got married, my wife moved here with me. For the sake of my family’s privacy, I won’t reveal the pretentious name of my subdivision. Instead, I will substitute my own, more appropriate name. How about “Aryan Acres” or “Flight Path Estates”? Whatever the name, one need only look at the big, honkin’ SUVs and shiny German sedans parked in front of the townhomes here to see that my neighbors are living the suburban lifestyle to which they aspire. To their great credit, they’ve put up with our 10 year-old, cosmetically-challenged vehicles, loudmouthed (if loveable) mutt of a dog and overall bohemian lifestyle. These days, most neighbors don’t even give a second glance when they see me sporting a dog chain collar and green hair while wheeling out a massive guitar cabinet to my truck. As long as I don’t actually play through that cabinet in my home, they don’t mind. God bless them.
Well, for one new arrival, the welcome to our cozy suburban existence was a bit more jarring than my own. Read the rest of this entry »
“An epidemic of Dominicans contaminating everything.” (Through the Glass by Stone Sour)
“I am imagining a dark lit place with your place or my face.” (Paralyzer by Finger11)
“Mirror yourself if you can even try. Gaze deep into God’s peepee eye” (October Thorns by Flotsam & Jetsam)
“We built this city on the wrong damn road” (We Built This City by Starship)
What do these lyrics have in common? They all prove that I’m stupid and usually high. Also, they’re mondegreens. Read the rest of this entry »
Thomas Edison holds like ten million patents. BFD. Oooh, he created lightbulbs. Well guess what, GOD created light, and what credit does He get? That’s not even my point. Don’t get me started on God’s lack of props.
Anyway, Thomas Edison was A) a racist, B) a pedophile, and C) an alcoholic. I could have invented the telegraph too if I had enough sex with minors. Read the rest of this entry »
Too Long; Didn’t Read Biographies: Part 1
I do not feel punished; rather purified - Egon Schiele, 1912
Egon Schiele June 12, 1890 – October 31, 1918
Egon lived only 28 years, but what a fucked life it was.
Estranged from his mother, he lived with his syphilis-crazed father and little sister (whom he was suspected of molesting) until age 15, when The French Disease took his father.
Egon enrolled at Akademie der Bildenden Künste in Vienna in 1907, just months before Adolf Hitler was rejected from the school.
In 1912, he was arrested for abduction and seduction of young girls, and possession/creation of pornographic drawings. Read the rest of this entry »