Marc
And, the backstage walls are still littered with, um, obscene drawings. -- Bob Nanna, speaking on obscene wall drawings
One. Well, Bob, I'd like to say that I agree with you about the whole penis-wall-grafitti thing, but I can't. I've spent far too much time around Matt Fast to turn my back on such a noteworthy form of artistic expression. You see, Bob, it's like this -- nothing gets people going like a good charicature of a penis. Have you ever seen Matt's work before? If not then consider this your lucky day, as I've done you the favor of going through the archives to find some examples: piece one is a beautiful rendition of fish in the process of oral sex, and piece two not only pictures a fantastic celebrity coupling (the infamous Russel Crowe Dry-Humping Christina Aguilera piece) but also a Matt Fast trademark -- the inscription of a crude penis charicature. Now, that's not to say that this truly talented artist's work is limited to these two pieces. In fact, for more than a year now there's been talk of finally scanning some of his more fantastic drawings which depict various sexual situations ranging from a giraffe shooting UFO's out of the sky with his penis to a randy scene involving Justin Timberlake, two monkeys, and a butterfly in the process of defecating on a pile of sand. It's truly remarkable work. There has been a definite decline in this country's penis-grafitti art over the past few years, but I can safely say that Matt Fast, under no circumstances, has contributed anything but spectacular work to the genre. Thank you.
Two. Can you tell I'm bored? Been sitting on my fanny most of the night. That's what happens when I get too much work piled on me at one time. Monday's have seemed to do that to me as of late. Can't quite explain it really. Too many Monday classes which involve too many papers being due at one time, or too many tests, or too many random question-answer sessions which seem to involve me (non-volutarily, I might add) too much. So. In the end I guess that's what it ends up being on Mondays -- too much.
Three. Now, on to Scooter's comment about me fighting back when the jokes get too rough. I would. Seriously. I've tried. But I'm just not as vocally witty as any of my closest friends. Been that way my whole life. In grade school and junior high I was flanked constantly by both Bob M. and Scott M. (not brothers, by the way). Scott could charm the pants off of any parent he set his sights on, while Bob could talk his way out of a Chinese brothel after stiffing the pimp's daughter. Anything I ever said out of jest towards anyone else in the group was immediately flung right back in my face, two fold, at least. Which led to a vicious cycle of constantly attaching myself to people who treated me in the same way because that is what I came to expect. In high school it was Erik and Adam, the two brothers I shared a band with. In early college it was both MC Love, my roommate, and Zach, whose been holding the top shit-flinger spot ever since, though his reign was challenged briefly last year by the aforementioned Matt Fast. I take punishment because I care. It's just the way it's always been. But thank you, sir, for the words. I will be sure to make fun of you someday soon. That I can promise you.
Four. I've already written too much. Consider section Four hereby cancelled for this evening.
Up next: shin splints (?)
And, the backstage walls are still littered with, um, obscene drawings. -- Bob Nanna, speaking on obscene wall drawings
One. Well, Bob, I'd like to say that I agree with you about the whole penis-wall-grafitti thing, but I can't. I've spent far too much time around Matt Fast to turn my back on such a noteworthy form of artistic expression. You see, Bob, it's like this -- nothing gets people going like a good charicature of a penis. Have you ever seen Matt's work before? If not then consider this your lucky day, as I've done you the favor of going through the archives to find some examples: piece one is a beautiful rendition of fish in the process of oral sex, and piece two not only pictures a fantastic celebrity coupling (the infamous Russel Crowe Dry-Humping Christina Aguilera piece) but also a Matt Fast trademark -- the inscription of a crude penis charicature. Now, that's not to say that this truly talented artist's work is limited to these two pieces. In fact, for more than a year now there's been talk of finally scanning some of his more fantastic drawings which depict various sexual situations ranging from a giraffe shooting UFO's out of the sky with his penis to a randy scene involving Justin Timberlake, two monkeys, and a butterfly in the process of defecating on a pile of sand. It's truly remarkable work. There has been a definite decline in this country's penis-grafitti art over the past few years, but I can safely say that Matt Fast, under no circumstances, has contributed anything but spectacular work to the genre. Thank you.
Two. Can you tell I'm bored? Been sitting on my fanny most of the night. That's what happens when I get too much work piled on me at one time. Monday's have seemed to do that to me as of late. Can't quite explain it really. Too many Monday classes which involve too many papers being due at one time, or too many tests, or too many random question-answer sessions which seem to involve me (non-volutarily, I might add) too much. So. In the end I guess that's what it ends up being on Mondays -- too much.
Three. Now, on to Scooter's comment about me fighting back when the jokes get too rough. I would. Seriously. I've tried. But I'm just not as vocally witty as any of my closest friends. Been that way my whole life. In grade school and junior high I was flanked constantly by both Bob M. and Scott M. (not brothers, by the way). Scott could charm the pants off of any parent he set his sights on, while Bob could talk his way out of a Chinese brothel after stiffing the pimp's daughter. Anything I ever said out of jest towards anyone else in the group was immediately flung right back in my face, two fold, at least. Which led to a vicious cycle of constantly attaching myself to people who treated me in the same way because that is what I came to expect. In high school it was Erik and Adam, the two brothers I shared a band with. In early college it was both MC Love, my roommate, and Zach, whose been holding the top shit-flinger spot ever since, though his reign was challenged briefly last year by the aforementioned Matt Fast. I take punishment because I care. It's just the way it's always been. But thank you, sir, for the words. I will be sure to make fun of you someday soon. That I can promise you.
Four. I've already written too much. Consider section Four hereby cancelled for this evening.
Up next: shin splints (?)
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home