This was originally a Warhol idea, wasn’t it?
A six hour film of the Empire State building, as the day goes and the lighting changes, I think it was meant as like a window from an apartment or office right in the thick of Manhattan.

Truth be told, I don’t hate the idea. Currently, it could be a framed digital screen on a loop, or showing a webcam feed. Why not a live view of Istanbul, or of the Moroccan desert?

“Ok, we’re gonna have to do something about this, polish it up a bit, so potential customers don’t snicker… what’s your full first name, honey?”
“Gaylorda.”

Don’t you wish there was a way to quit enabling these shit-kickin’ shitheads. To let them actually live what they preach, in isolation without their shitwater splashing and spilling around everywhere else.

None of their politicians asking for handouts behind closed doors and under the table, too embarrassed to admit to the voters that yes, indeed, a collective government IS extremely useful AND convenient when you need it the most, and not only when YOU need it but also when OTHERS need it, too.

But one might as well try and explain quantum mechanics to a goddamned brick wall.

Then there is also all those mediocre non-voters who empowered by default the motivated-by-hysteria, toxic dregs of society, up and down Main St. and deep within their communities and suburbs.

This, like so many other cruel unnecessary things, could have been easily avoided.
“But… but… muh puriteh! bOtH pArTiEs ArE tHe SaMe LoL aMiRiTe”
vOtE fOr A wOmAn? mE?!! wHeN PIGS FLY!!!

The mental gymnastics so many non-voters use to convince themselves that their lazy mediocrity is not a HUGE part of the problem. They exert a hundred times the energy to stab themselves in the chest with a rusty knife, and as gangrene sets in, they fancy themselves as hero martyrs, because they so bravely did nothing of value to stop this. Useless deadweight flakes that they are.

What time is it?
It’s Beer O’clock!

Wainscoting. Sounds like… a little Dorset village. Wainscoting.

…unless you heat them up first, to kill the bacteria; two minutes on HIGH ought to do it.

The moral of the story is: no rusty banal or shitty memory is banal or shitty enough, for these postmodern kids nowadays to NOT commoditize it as “nostalgia”. EXACTLY like their boomer parents with their own rusty banal or shitty items in their memory bank.

“I look around me, and the horizon seems to be at the same distance everywhere I look, therefore it must be obvious: I am at the center of the Universe.”

Orange-shooting Man!

Queso Casita

Chuckables.
Guffawfables.

Pray with me.

Some of these fellows are packin’ some serious heat!

Hey Farva! What’s the name of that restaurant you like?

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THIS IS NOT A DRILL
I repeat
THIS IS NOT A DRILL

CONFIDENCE IS HIGH
(wtf is that even supposed to mean)

The Majorana Superhero!

Baby Shark & Wild Stallyns. Party on, dude!

What’s the matter ese?
Don’t you know I’m goth-o?