Pop goes the Art

I've been investing a lot of useless online time lately looking into Andy Warhol and his works. He's always been my favorite artist, along with Alexander Caulder as a close second, but I never truly appreciated him until I saw that photo at SCAD (see left. or right. or wherever it posts to). After having just entered "andy warhol pop art" into Google, I have come to the conclusion I will be editing my own pictures all day. I just want to be like you, Andy.

Photog-irony

I think the best kinds of photographs are the ironic ones. For example, a rubber duck in a New York City street puddle. I've always wanted to do such a thing, but who can find a perfect crater in the street and NOT get hit by a taxi, bus, or other automobile? I've seen photos of little goldfish in puddles and glasses of water but I can't bring myself to put Kyle in danger. (I also can't concentrate with Raekwon playing in the background.. but anyways). Ironic pictures are so much more interesting... It's all about catching something at the opportune moment. A bird floating around a "No Fly Zone" sign or .. well you catch the drift. These are things I dream about. When I catch 'em, I'll let you know.

ICK.

Dear Bear Grylls,

Suck my left toe.

Sir, There is NO NEED to sleep in the bleeding carcus of a mammal to keep warm. You clearly have the monetary means to call up your producer and check in at the nearest Residence Inn. If you're being filmed, they can hook you up.

Also, if you decide to sleep in a SOAKING WET cave again, maybe you should wake up a bit damp! Yes? No? Perhaps it's a foreign idea to you. And furthermore, asshole, I don't appreciate your completely outrageous survival circumstances. Never in my life will I come face to face with a bear. [The moose is questionable, considering my dream of one day moving to Canada, but that does not count for mere Americans!]

Sincerely,

Your least fan.

In a Snow Daze

Once upon a time, there was a nameless moron who decided to trek out into the wilderness and experience true Connecticut weather at its finest. Little did he/she know that the "snow" was actually a smoothie-like consistency, despite its feathery appearance. The unnamed figure became a bit startled as she/he - okay, shit, it's me. I'm caught. - took a daring step out onto the pavement and felt her tan Fugg boot slosh around in the mess. I fearlessly wandered past the sidewalk and onto the curb, as I heard a small car quietly and slowly approach me from behind. I remained on the very outermost edge of the street, which was also covered in an Icee of precipitation, until the vehicle passed me. I carefully slid my way into the fresh tire tracks that the car had just left behind and followed them all the way down Haverford Street, past the crimson stop sign and around the corner.

...And thus concludes my Spring Glen adventure.