Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Umbrella Scandal declared Completely Outrageous by Melissa

Dateline 12/27/11: While enjoying her evening in a deceptively snug restaurant in vermont, Melissa's umbrella was purloined from the communal umbrella jar by the door. Although in direct proximity, Vermont is not New Hampshire. In Vermont, there is no living free or dying all dry and comfortable beneath someone else's expensive wind-proof, auto-open umbrella. The criminal element, especially ones predisposed to fine dining, should keep an eye on state lines.
 

Possibly unbeknownst to the perpetrator, the heist resulted in serious repercussions beyond the obvious damp clothing problem. Umbrella theft is no victimless crime and such was the case yesterday. Inadvertently, Silla plucked a third-party umbrella from the communal stand causing a thievery chain reaction and thrusting her deeply into the thug life. The bandit slope is slippery. Next, she may feel the lure of the rain slicker! 
 
Although crack reporters such as myself are paid a large percentage of all blog profits to maintain our objectivity and refrain from offering advice only relevant in hindsight, I was unable to curb my zeal for a new and surefire business concept: Umbrella PomPom Crime Deterrent Craft Kits. 


The idea would be to attractively and distinctively decorate the exterior pelt of the umbrella with sequins, LOLcatz waterproof stickers and shiny non-edibles. Now that they are retired by the loving grace of Jesus, Silla and David may want to consider investing a top drawer idea like this.

 
In summary, despite my best efforts and how much they amuse me, I was unable to work the words "chicanery," "rectitude" or "virtue" in this recounting of actual events.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Tom's Charity #Fail

Tom exits the grocery store and throws a ten dollar bill in Santa's basket. Santa hollers that he is simply there to hand out candy canes. Tom fishes his money out of the pile of candy canes and puts it back in his pocket.

Sunday, December 04, 2011

This fricassee tastes like paper

Since it is unlikely that I will ever find myself interviewed about my so-called artwork by a publication like the NY Times or the Randolph News Bee, I've decided to interview myself.

Me: What is the genre of your art?
Me: I call it Hedgewitch Modern. Or maybe Abstract Packrat. My genre is loosely based on Joan Miro and his large-scale dystopic paintings of potatos.

Me: What inspires you?
Me: I'm inspired by paisley, scuff marks, lantana, fingerprints, paint chips, metal dust, used Scotch tape, crumpled paper, shredded fabric, circular objects, moss, black chess pieces, bubbles, reptile scales, crystaline molecular structures, mutilated stripes, and things that have been burned in a fire.


Me: Where do you keep your art supplies.
Me: In the dishwasher, your rumor mongerer. I will also have you know I've removed my sweaters from the oven. Although admittedly a titanic example of storage genius, a fire hazard risk-reward evaluation caused me to reassess.


Me: What brochures are you most likely to cut into strips?
Me: I've grown partial to Rubin Museum member mailings, Starbucks handouts and AAF catalogs. I also enjoy slicing up New York Magazine.

Me: Have you ever boiled a Resoration Hardware Catalog?
Me: Only that one time.