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January 05, 2006

ART UPDATE

Rembrandt was always doing stuff like this.

(Thanks to Jessica Miller)

Comments

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Doesn't David Blaine do this kind of thing on purpose?

suffering for art.

everyone does it.

suck it up, hoppy.

what a maroon

Are you sure that this wasn't a performance art piece demonstrating man's inhumanity to man, or else his stupidity?

At least he wasn't fingerpainting.

Isn't that how Hopalong Cassidy got his name?

Dammit, Darwin almost got it right.

Dave! Oh, thank gawd!

(Aside to Dave - Thank God you've come back. They're running amok - amok, I tell you! - over in the previous thread. Chaos, madness, dogs and cats living together... I may never be the same.)

Phew. 9 posts and not one inappropriate comment. No definitions I have to forget, no flagrant debauchery, no links I'll get fired if I click on.

I'm just glad he kept all his clothes on during his art. And did not use any inappropriate appendages.

"Corneliusien" sounds like a made-up name, to me. But if I were that dumb, I'd probably make up a name, too.

Mr. C, take off the halo, you were there, too!

Where have you been, mister?

Hey, how come Andrew gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up, IT'LL BE ANARCHY!

Now Mr. C, it wasn't that bad. We were just having some fun while the teacher was out of the room. No one got hurt and the stains will come out with some soap and water(and bleach as required).

why the abandoned mine shaft???

stupid non-artist question (though yr.sister is one): couldn't he just imagine what it would look like and draw that?

possibly apocryphal story...On the movie Marathon Man Dustin Hoffman would run himself into a state of exhaustion for his role. Olivier said, "Why don't you try acting, dear boy?"

I guess this is better than cutting off your own ear though . . .

amok amok amok!

This reminds me of the time that I, for an art project, went into the living room and drank a beer.

And then when I ran out I went to the kitchen, got another beer, returned, and drank it. It went on and on like this.

But that's what you do. When you're an artist.

Art has really degenerated into a sad profession devoid of actual talent. I blame the entrance examiners. They are obviously smoking illegal substances.

Your dedication is inspiring C'bol.

You know C'bol, what's sad is that you could have applied in advance for a govenment grant and they would have bought you the beer and paid you an enormous sum of money to drink it.

Just weren't thinkin' ahead.... Thankfully, I applied in your stead and am living far more comfortably than my talents deserve on your grant money.

I like to sit on my ass and eat cookies.

In the name of art.

A girl does what she has to do.

I bet the next time he binds his ankles and does a drawing he's sitting in his comfortable Barcalounger with the key to the lock on a string around his neck!!

Good grief.

"Binds feet in desert" = sand; Now I ain't no rocket scie-entist, but isn't there (not their) sand at the beach? And isn't there usually more people at the beach than the abandoned mine shaft? So......................... {someone do the math for me:)}

I like to sit on cookies and eat your--
No, that doesn't work. Nevermind.

And, by the way, I know nothing of all the debauchery that recently may have gone on, so I hear, it is rumored.

Somewhere North - I thought of that, but, then, as I said, I thought of that. No way, for any amount of free money, was I going to sit and drink beer chosen by a US Government committee.

You live in Canada, right? So you were much safer, esp. if they picked Unibroue...mmmmMMMMMmmmm Unibroue!

A new thread. What to do, what to do?

That guy is just obviously a total jackass.

Substitute wine for beer and I practice "art" just like C'bol. I'm a professional! *hic*

My question is this: How did he get out there in the first place?

1) Drove and locked his keys in the car
2) Dropped off by someone
3) Hopped out there in chains

Any answer leave several more important questions.

Yup, he inspired me to go grab a beer. Wait, I'm at work. Somehow I'd forgotten.

Cbol: You gotta a problem with warm Schiltz out of a rusty can??

I am reminded of the time I had to go the emergency room to get a ukelele removed from my backside. Even though I explained again and again that it was an artistic statement, and not some sophomoric joke, the hospital staff would not stop snickering.

You phillistines will never stop persecuting what you cannot understand.

Schlitz

Mud - You're reminded of it? It just happened yesterday!!

a haiku:

sitting on one cheek,
strum magic ukelele
make good vibrations

another:

hear my music fools!
my soul a flame of fire! and
my ass hurts like hell

one more:

get it out! ow! ow!
not that way! easy! easy!
curse those tuning pegs!

Let's all hit the guy who said 'philistines'!

I don't understand it!

Mud - sounds like Appalachian Emergency Room

*hands C-bol a pitchfork and lights a torch*

Let's get him!

dj - I know a guy whose got some chain...

Okay, angry mob, we could stop with just assaulting the smart guy, but what sort of angry mob would we be then, I ask you?

Let's go home and order pizzas for delivery to stranger's homes!

I'm off to get a "Christobol inspired" beer. Have a pizza delivered to my house, will ya, C-bol?

This reminds me of the time I pulled up to a one-legged hitchhiker and said, "Hop in." I've almost recovered from those injuries. Who would've thought a one-legged guy could kick ass?

Just because I've been black listed by every pizza delivery service in North America, don't think I can't do it!

Um, could somebody handle that request. I have a, uh, thing. For stuff. Over at the place.

Thanks.

I would have thought it, SM. It makes sense.

You know how nature always compensates for the loss of an ability - like how blind people always have a heightened sense of ennui?

See, so if the guy only has one leg, you have to assume that he can kick ass. Or smell things that normal people can't. Something.

I always do.

or smell ass.

pizza ordered.

I was back at the previous blog sweeping up and I found this. Who lost a thong with the initials PB?

pretty sure it's pirate boys.

*whistles innocently*

Make that thread, not blog.

Pogo, would that make it a thread-bare blog?

That would leave Pirate Boy quite embare-assed.

And anyway, I don't put my initials on my thongs ...

Leave no evidence.

That's my motto.

Just the days of the week Punky?

I actually thought the PB might be a reference to peanut butter. You know some people have these strange preferences.

Later that night, he found the key in his pants pocket. "Oh, yeah; now I remember putting it there."

I do feel kind of sorry for the "artist" though. It must be lonely not having someone to chain your legs.

You know, three times I've composed and submitted pithy answers to the "other" P.B.'s comments, and, for the third time, they never appear! Boy, am I pithed!

And I've never owned a thong, so the "PB" initals can't be mine.


Oh, wait... Nevermind! ;)

Earwing alert: I am music, and I wear the thongs!!!!!

You can all just Barry your heads in the sand over that one.

Stupendous - that is exactly why my personal code of ethics dictates that I never, never pick up hitchhikers (unless they have two legs, and are blonde (or brunette, or redhead), and female, and hot (or at least not ugly - depending, of course, on my current state of drunkenness and/or altered state of mind - under the right conditions, I'm really not all that picky)...

where was I?

oh yeah - picking up hitchhikers is bad (unless, of course, she's hot, or at least not too ugly...)

I read about this in this morning's LA Times. The "artist's" mother was interviewed. She was quoted as saying that "he is a little absent minded."

Heh. Moms. Gotta love 'em.

chuck norris creates a work of art by just imagining it. *poof* a masterpiece instantaneously appears.

See, it's stuff like this that give us artists a bad name. That's why I keep the chains safe for use in the privacy of my own home, especially if Mr Artchick is around.

Oh my gosh, I actually know this guy! I went to the same university and was in the orchestra with him. (I'm not going to name the school in order to protect its reputation.) True story: At a Haunted House held in one of the dorms, he stuffed cow brains in my mouth. I enjoyed this news story immensely.

You're all a bunch of DRUNK and STONED YANKIES!

You're all a bunch of DRUNK and STONED YANKIES!

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