Archive for the ‘critique’ 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 »
In a pitiful attempt to win our favor, loyal ЯR participant Keywork has written a cloying review of our beloved website. It seems he’s such a big ass-suck fan, he could do nothing but praise our groundbreaking family website. Enjoy, friends!
You Can Have My Ration.
Ration Reality. I stumbled upon this incoherent, slimy sac of anal seepage a few months ago. And I can tell you this: don’t visit this blog, Bagel has syphilis. Yes, the editor, Bagel of Everything, has syphilis. Frat boys beware. Never in my life have I ever read such horrible propaganda. Let’s look: Read the rest of this entry »
All of BuckCherry’s songs sound the same, are about the same thing, and the lyrics are retarded. I love them, and so do you. We can’t help it. We love sex, drugs, and hepatitis infested frontmen. But this song, Porno Star, just takes the stupid lyrics prize. 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 »
My wife has never met a slot machine that she didn’t like. Sadly, her love is very nearly always unrequited.
Her love does, however, occasionally get us free shit. It’s been a while – 8 or 9 months – since we’d been to Tachi Palace, as it’s quite a drive to get there for us, and because quite frankly it sucks. But, the other day we received a voucher in the mail for free tickets to see the Bruce Willis Blues Band perform live. There would be complimentary beverages and food offered, so that was quite a selling point. Read the rest of this entry »
This fuckin’ cutey-cute-cute ball of cuteness is one of my favorite songs. The accompianing video elevates it higher than James Brown on an interstate police chase. It’s by hometown favorites, Grandaddy (if your hometown is Modesto-Fucking-California). Sadly, they are no more, due in part to drugs, alcohol and madness… and drugs. They reached such great heights for a band so strange and unsuited for mass marketing and commercial success… and they’re from Modesto, the town that turned out George Lucas and my father, two of the most colossal disasters in modern history (sorry dad). Read the rest of this entry »