I don't understand

OK, I know this story is kind of old news, but I don't have a TV and I don't read the paper or magazines, I really just kind of exist in my own weird little world, so I was vaguely aware about Lady Gaga wearing a dress made of meat and I was like oh, whatever.  No big deal.  I once saw a chick sew a bikini out of flank steak as a performance art piece during White Linen Night in New Orleans.  The whole thing was quite tedious, and it was kind of stinky once it was finally finished, most likely due to the middle-of-summer-in-New-Orleans heat.  It wasn't very flattering, either, once she put it on.

Well, I thought, if Lady Gaga wants to wear a stinky, unflattering dress or bikini to an award show or whatever it was, that's fine with me.  I don't really care what she does to be honest.

But then I read today that she did it to support gay rights and the repeal of the "don't ask, don't tell" policy, some crazy shit about if we don't fight for our rights we'll have as much rights as the meat on our bones, whatever the fuck THAT means and I was like what?  WHAT?  What the FUCK?

I'm one hundred percent behind gay rights, believe me, but I'm terribly, terribly confused here.  I'm trying my hardest to understand how a dress made of meat has ANYTHING to with gay rights, but I'm failing miserably.  Can anybody help me out here?

Randomness

New York, NY
Iron Worker's Lunch Break

          

Well said... again...

I know I just posted this a few days ago.  But the other night I was, uhhh, let's call it tired, and I decided to edit it for some reason and then I fucked it up even worse and then somehow I deleted it completely.  How?  I have no idea.  Why?  Because I'm an idiot, I guess.  So here it is, Banksy revisited...


"1.7 billion people have no access to clean drinking water.  20 billion people live below the poverty line.  Every day hundreds of people are made to feel physically sick by morons at art shows telling them how bad the world is but never actually doing anything about it.  Anybody want a free glass of wine?"

                                                                                   ~Banksy


As I said before, Banksy kicks ass, without a doubt.  This is a piece he did in New Orleans a while ago, on Kerlerec and Rampart.  The covered it with plexiglass to protect it from that Gray Ghost bag o'douche.

                      

Chihuly ceiling

Norton Museum of Art
West Palm Beach, Florida

                       


My host took me to the Norton Museum of Art while I was in Palm Beach.  We had a beautiful, wonderful day.  This room was my ultimate favorite.  They even had comfortable benches, so you could lie down and drink in the beauty.  Perfection.  

Brad Dupuy

Brad Dupuy is one of the most talented artists in New Orleans, hands down.  Brad has been painting since he was old enough to hold a paintbrush, pretty much.  Brad is 35.  That’s quite a while.

 My favorite time to write is late at night.  That’s what works best for me, it’s when I feel the most expressive.  The other day I asked Brad what his favorite time of day to paint was.  He said, “Whenever I can.”  Somehow, that answer didn’t surprise me.

Brad and I became friends when I sat next to him at the bar at the Country Club one night and pretty much forced him to start talking to me.  Then I pretty much forced him to go out bar-hopping with me and my crazy friends.  This was quite a while ago.  I think Brad was a little scared of me at first.  But he warmed up to me quickly enough.

Before you get the wrong idea about us, this ain’t your grandfather’s country club.  I highly doubt your grandfather’s country club has naked people running around the pool…

But that’s a story for another day.  This is a story about Brad Dupuy.

Brad’s art is hanging in the Country Club. Check it out next time you’re in there.  Some beautiful stuff up on those walls.

Brad finally got himself a website.  You can see it right here.  Buy a painting for yourself.  Buy one for me, too.  I can’t afford that shit right now.  I’m still out with a broken knee.  If you can’t afford it either, forward this to someone who can.  Tell them they have to buy me one too.  We’ll call it a finder’s fee…

braddupuy.com