Adulthood blows. You have to make all of your own appointments, buy enough groceries (but not too much), and obtain your own hallucinogenic drugs. In fact, adulthood makes you take so many drugs you end up painting rainbow sunsets and sleeping for 20 hours. You think you’re a hipster octopus in love with a happy mushroom, but the shroom’s only interested in flirting with the birds, and that would be awesome, but it’s not real.
F that.
Someone somewhere asked me what being in love felt like. Bewildered, I sought solace in handfulls of LSD and then painted this:
Translation: Love is super confusing and there might be French clouds involved. My advice: don’t risk it.
Once upon a time there was a lonely little pufferfish. He thought life was pretty much the wrong side of a wedge of cheese. And, convinced that he would never find love, he puffed his sorry bum across the oceans, inventing new names for nihilism and imagining himself pretty clever.
Sometimes life surprises you though, and no amount of philosophical training can prepare you to ignore the first glimpses of love. One day our little pufferfish found it–a hopeful little heart glowing in the deepest reaches of the sea (geographers have since found that the only place conditions are perfect for love is in those underwater caverns too deep for people). He puffed up with joy and went in for a kiss-
Yay! It’s finally 2012, the alleged beginning of the end.
Some things to look forward to this year:
“I have eight left feet!”
Underwater Madness 