There’s No Such Thing As Priceless Artifacts, or, Why Lazlo Toth Might Not Be The Anti-Christ
I'm an artist myself, responsible for at least 50 such wall hangings so far and may they all be used for toilet paper (should the need arise) before they ever inspire rudeness, greed and undue cruelty.
PHIXATIVE — Portland’s Robbie Augspurger’s Vintage Portraits Will Melt Your Panties
"Photography is in the heart, not in the hand."
LinkedIn is as Jealous and Insecure as my Ex-Girlfriend.
Of course I click. Fuck you LinkedIn, for appealing to my base desires. Pride, greed, envy, selfishness. All these things are embedded beneath one stupid, desperate cry for attention from a motherfucking social media platform.
I Love You From The Bottom of My Liver — On Organs And Romance
So, dear readers, before you commence sqwoobling under the sheets tonight, consider which organ it is exactly that secretes all that love.
PHIXATIVE — Joe Obima’s Faded Amerika
Hailing from D.C., Joe Obima aims his 35mm camera at whatever bizarre subjects pass him by, hoping to "express a beautiful world full of spontaneity [that is] contiguous to one another."
Phoenix’s Proposed Senior Community Draws Outrage Over Ageism
Keep elderly people out of traffic: I feel that opening it will only more heavily congest that area.
Ethanol Dossier — An AmeriCan in VietNam
While I was pondering those wicked times in the jungle, I decided to make a cocktail to soothe my nerves and tickle my traumatized palate.
Abandoniers! — Disgusting Leftovers from Lone Star Steakhouse
Between you and me, judging by the horribleness and the age of the fecal matter, these stains could have come from someone who had just eaten at Lone Star.
Complicated Books Summarized in Haiku Form
People need your rule
Rule them with a candy fist
Keep them smiling scared
Ethanol Dossier — The Almond Joy/Mounds Cocktail
It tastes exactly like liquified obscure Mars bars.
Abandoniers! — The Coke-Fueled, Anarchist Spray Paint Fracas
Steven started blowing out bits of blood in his nose into my sink. I asked if he was OK. He replied, Oh, it’s just the coke.
PHIXATIVE — Dimitri Karakostas’ Playground Mob
Brooklyn's Dimitri Karakostas gets around. His scratchy negatives are like the beatup, bleeding kids rolling on skateboards through suburban wastelands. And in the process of getting washed in all that grim, grease and grit, there's a lot of self-discovery.
