But first you must face the Captcha test to prove that you are, in fact, not Anish Kapoor.

Meanwhile Kapoor, not using a VPN - “Curses! Foiled again!”

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You must not NOSN’T!

Now that you mention it, there was an old shoe repairman in my town, among other knickknacks he had a piggy bank on a shelf, but it was like a bust of JFK, and the coin slot was right where Oswald supposedly “acted alone”.

But le charlee kercke is like scraping the bottom of the barrel on that political and cultural scale.

So what does one do with such items? Is there a collector’s market for merch sold on the grounds upon whence le charley kirke died like he despicably preached for others not himself?

“It’s the tee-shirts and caps from where there was a shooting! Somewhere in 'Murica!”

Because somebody had to wipe that smug retrograde smirk off his face, that’s why.

Holy shit, that kid on the lower right corner looks like Harrison Ford!
One quarter Jewish… not too shabby!

I wake up, feed the cats, take my supplements including a concentrated CBD paste, then stretch and meditate in my darkened room with a sleep mask, sitting in a relaxed but yoga-like position, with knees bent and the soles touching, hands nested on my belly, my back straight but with support.
Then I stay there, watching my breath, getting distracted, returning to my breath, getting distracted again, etc., for around seventy minutes!

When I come back out, I make my morning coffee.
I have been meditating every day for the past seven years. I used to do forty minutes, but right now I’m really enjoying the really long sessions, so I go with it.

It gets to a point that if I move my arms, even with eyes closed and a sleep mask on, I can perceive the movements like the ghostly shadow of the change, as if the body is also “seen” by another movement-based sense, and it manages to imprint itself a bit into the optical system. I don’t know quite how to put it into words, and it happens every single time, it’s happened hundreds of times.

Meditation is like a low-key, healthy and daily psychedelic experience. It’s beautiful, one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life.

He will encounter British Flyes! He will have to learn how to buzz around CRISPS and SCONES now.

The Woz is BOSS!

It’s a GATO Truck!

So as not to “bruise the cheese”.

Back to back Bond!

For Your Eye Only
Monopussy

hOw CoULd gOd LeT tHiS hAppEn To mE! tO mEeEeEeE!!!

Then you open it up…
and the whole damn thing has lines and paragraphs underlined with markers in different colors.

You might need a murder of crows for that one.

Where’s the shaman?

Arguably, there’s a lot to criticize her about, but her leading a carefree lifestyle and finding success in publicizing it doesn’t seem like one.

Wanna bet that whoever latches onto the image to jam their lazy uninformed truthiness (as Stephen Colbert coined the term) narrative into, uses the same kind of lazy uninformed truthiness narrative
bOtH pArTiEs ArE tHe SaMe LoL aMiRiTe MuH pURiTeH
to not vote and empower the goose-stepping fascist goons into the federal government and into their communities.

Ritzcoin?

Coldplay is for people who think they enjoy high art because they watch period costume dramas about the Victorian Age. Because that’s what high art is, isn’t it? Stuffy settings and dialogue, delivered in a bygone accent.

That would be the rump and tail of the bear.