For scale.
Early Christmas gift from Pfaff. Mini, nudie scene!
The guy on the right perfectly represents my self-image: awkward; assuming people won’t remember my name; and happy even sitting on the same bench as greatness.
cartoons used to be, like… real.
That’s almost the look. The look that accompanies someone with absolutely no fear of consequences. That’s why teenagers terrify me. I’d rather walk through Skid Row at night, than walk past two teenagers holding a baseball bat.
I’ve been thinking about doing this for a couple weeks. Tonight I stopped thinking, and did:
I introduce Smoke and a Coke’s Hypothetical Museum of Modern Art, but you can call it SCHMoMA.
It’s my make-believe art museum. Curated by yours truly.
Like MotoDope (my little moto side-blog), SCHMoMA is the result of a growing folder of collected images on my desktop. For a while, I’ve been setting aside artwork that I would theoretically like to own and hang on my vast, imaginary mantel. But eventually, my imaginary mantel grew so big that I was forced to move some of the pieces into an imaginary museum. This is that hypothetical museum. And unlike most museums, it’s free!*
Follow, if you’d like to.
Submit, if you want to.
Enjoy, if you’re apt to.
*Tuesdays after 5pm, with Student ID.
Next project.
It’s serious.
When I end up moving, I’m scared of how much I will want to spend on salvaged wood, not that I can afford even a coffee table’s worth.
In high school, I thought for a moment that I wanted to get into graphic and packaging design. Things like this remind me of that notion.
We’ll remember you humorously… you lonely, little bastard.
I have to believe this doesn’t exist in order to go on being happy with my life.
Makanyane Safari Lodge, The Black Workshop
Hava NagiLOL of the Day: Redditor ruinedme says: “My friend linked me a video at a Jewish wedding. I felt there was room for improvement.”
[reddit.]
I always wondered what was going on inside the temples on La Brea…
