Mr. Penguin Meets Soap Buddy.
Soap Buddy Loses Weight.
Soap Buddy II is Born.
Penguin Party!
Penguin Party on the Ice Berg.
So Here We Go Dissecting Penguin Buddy II.
He's Going to Go Swimming.
Look How Happy His Top Half Is. It Loves Swimming.
His Bottom Half Getting Wet So It Can Stick to the Water.
His Arms...Didn't Like Getting Wet.
Look at Him Swimming. He's Having the Time of His Life.
I'm Cutting Some Ripples In the Water So It's Like a Wave Pool.
Don't Tell Him It's Not Really Alaska. It's Actually a Zoo. Shh.
You Can Tell It's a Zoo Because of the Glass Made Out of Transparency. High Quality Transparency Glass Makes for Less Children Nose-Prints.
Soap Buddies I and II, at the Zoo. Good Thing Everyone They Love Back Home is Dead, or They'd Miss Their Freedom.
At Least They Can Still Go Swimming.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Project 7: The Dreaded Tape Shoes
An old man came to me one day. He said, "Help, for I have no shoes! My poor old feet have no relief, and the burning pavement is cruel!"
"Wooden clogs they break my toes, rubber soles they wear and fade, sandals offer no protection from the rain and painful things."
Though I know not why I would, I took pity upon the miser. Spending my last twenty cents, I bought my tape supplies.
Toiling all through the night, I slept not a single wink. Such sympathy I felt for the man, and his aching feet.
Twenty days spent in my room, living only off of ramen. My paper cuts would heal and split, something....something something rhymes with ramen.
The moral of the story is that I wasted my time.
I found upon completion that the man had stolen my shoes while I was working on his.
So I had to wear the stupid tape shoes.
Which crumbled under my weight.
And unraveled when I stepped into a puddle.
Never trust the homeless.
"Wooden clogs they break my toes, rubber soles they wear and fade, sandals offer no protection from the rain and painful things."
Though I know not why I would, I took pity upon the miser. Spending my last twenty cents, I bought my tape supplies.
Toiling all through the night, I slept not a single wink. Such sympathy I felt for the man, and his aching feet.
Twenty days spent in my room, living only off of ramen. My paper cuts would heal and split, something....something something rhymes with ramen.
The moral of the story is that I wasted my time.
I found upon completion that the man had stolen my shoes while I was working on his.
So I had to wear the stupid tape shoes.
Which crumbled under my weight.
And unraveled when I stepped into a puddle.
Never trust the homeless.
Project 6...or maybe part of 5: Drawing Our Hybrid Forms!
I asked the girl about her art. I asked if there was a deeper meaning to it's simultaneously phalic and yonic nature. She didn't know what yonic meant.
She said her art was physical manifestation of a dream that represented a memory. She said it was an introspective view into her personal experiences with the machinations of the universe that relied mainly on the viewer entering into the work with several preconceived generalizations.
I told her I didn't know what that meant. It seems like she just drew a big amorphus circle on a scrap of paper towel from the bathroom and tacked it to the wall.
She said, "Well, I made a sculputure of an amorphus circle out of paper, then I cast the circle in bronze. This is a representational drawing of the bronze cast circle. The design comes full circle, paper to paper. Don't you see? There's a metaphor in there somewhere about industrialzied nations or the fragmented nature of the self."
Then cops flooded the room and shot her. Turned out she was a serial killer. She really did make the sculpture though. I bought it at the police auction.
My snobby burgeoisie artist friends are so jealous.
She said her art was physical manifestation of a dream that represented a memory. She said it was an introspective view into her personal experiences with the machinations of the universe that relied mainly on the viewer entering into the work with several preconceived generalizations.
I told her I didn't know what that meant. It seems like she just drew a big amorphus circle on a scrap of paper towel from the bathroom and tacked it to the wall.
She said, "Well, I made a sculputure of an amorphus circle out of paper, then I cast the circle in bronze. This is a representational drawing of the bronze cast circle. The design comes full circle, paper to paper. Don't you see? There's a metaphor in there somewhere about industrialzied nations or the fragmented nature of the self."
Then cops flooded the room and shot her. Turned out she was a serial killer. She really did make the sculpture though. I bought it at the police auction.
My snobby burgeoisie artist friends are so jealous.
Project 5: Hybrid Forms
"You sure you wanna' do this Tex?" said the man in the black hat.
"Unless you wanna' be gettin' up outta' here, then it looks like this is what we've gotta' do, parter," replied Tex calmly, chewing on his toothpick.
"It's just gonna' be a shame to see a perfectly fine deputy sheriff disgraced in fronta' his kin-folk. But this ain't my first rodeo, so let's get to it."
Both men eyed their holstered guns, keeping their hands at the ready position. Tex spit out his toothpick. In unison both men chanted..."Three....two....one....GO!"
And in an instant, they began what would become the most infamous game of checkers until 1905 when Sir Robert Ormondshire took on Galvexitromnicon, the Sentient Typewriter.
"Unless you wanna' be gettin' up outta' here, then it looks like this is what we've gotta' do, parter," replied Tex calmly, chewing on his toothpick.
"It's just gonna' be a shame to see a perfectly fine deputy sheriff disgraced in fronta' his kin-folk. But this ain't my first rodeo, so let's get to it."
Both men eyed their holstered guns, keeping their hands at the ready position. Tex spit out his toothpick. In unison both men chanted..."Three....two....one....GO!"
And in an instant, they began what would become the most infamous game of checkers until 1905 when Sir Robert Ormondshire took on Galvexitromnicon, the Sentient Typewriter.
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