Good morning! Isn’t it wonderful! Did I scare you yet? Sarah Irani painted this stunning picture entitled Mama and Babe in 1995. The universe paused in its expansion upon the coming into being of this, the single most noxious thing I’ve ever posted pictorially. Cazart! Likewise John Belushi noises!
Then the universe recalled into the ground of its nothingness that INDEED there was a Museum of Bad Art, and balance was restored. I’m seriously thinking of deleting the picture after a couple of days. Actually, now that I think of it, it perfectly sums up how I feel about some things, like Mel Brooks’, sorry Gibson’s, The Passion of the Christ.
According to those crazy slurs that control the global media, the Canadian B’nai Brith is reporting that antislur events have become 4 times as eventful since the movie was released. The dry comment was made that Orthodox slurs expect racist attacks and for some reason hardly ever report them. Suddenly I feel the weight of 5 thousand years of cycling in and out of the ability to kick serious butt, weighing heavily on my shoulders. Splitters!!! Somebody kick me under the table. Hey Vanunu, I name the next element after you, Vanununium.
Hey Brooke, now that I’ve introduced you to the sexiest man you’ll ever meet, how does it feel? How does it feel to know that he is utterly unattainable? Those blue eyes will never look into yours. Those scarred hands will never touch you. Okay, in unison girls, back of the hand to the forehead, droop a little to the side, and siiiiiggghhh, a big time exhalation carrying a fragrant abyss of longing no living man could hope to be the object of. Lymond!
