Thursday, June 15, 2006

Parade of the Exiled Bachelourhood Brick-a-Brack!

So far the most tangible advantage of my newfound bachelourhood is that I may now repatriate some of my favourite pieces of crap!

How this stuff didn't assure my eternal bachelourhood in the first place speaks more to my dear departed E's own poor taste than mine.

Joan Collins

A stuffed crocodile? Why not? At least he died with a smile on his face. . .

Crosschecking Christ

For a guy who grew up in the desert, he sure looks pretty comfortable on skates.
Perhaps the Christians and the Jews could settle their differences once and for all with a game of shinny?

The New Holy Trinity

Santa has a lot to be thankful for--that little fella in the manger is his gravy train. If it wasn't for the Lil' JC, St. Nick would have his sleigh yolked to Irish immigrants.

Oh snap!

My most prized piece of art, "Have a Nice Day". I don't know what possessed someone to capture this particular conflict in oil and canvas, but it got me through some tough days in University. No matter how shit things seemed, I was never having a day as bad as the badger.

. . . I've always really loved the badger's expression: equal parts of surprise and pissed off.


B said...

Everything is beautiful to a mother's eyes--and I think my little Monkey Shines is very handsome.

B said...

Fat chance!
I'm getting buried with that painting!!

. . . now, there's nothing but 'The Man' stopping you from robbing my grave. . .