Let me tell you a story.
One night a very long time ago, back when I was a different person (last night to be precise) I came home to my apartment, which is a smallish one bedroom in Seattle. My life will forever be divided into the ‘before’ and ‘after.’
Feeling sleepy, lazy, and–I’m not going to lie–a little horny, I took to a bottle of red wine like a puffin takes to unprofessionalism and started doodling.
Take this as a reminder never to drink and draw.
Sometimes when you doodle, important questions spring to mind. Important questions that shouldn’t be asked. Questions about color and perspective, about whether Dali’s mustache was a demon, and about whether it’s more fun to hate on or defend modern art.
Questions like would you rather fuck the aurora borealis or a rainbow. Excuse me, would you rather fuck a rainbow with a mullet? YES or VERY YES. Party in the back indeed.
Oh, and by the way, you’re a flying fucking narwhal.
YOU’RE WELCOME WORLD
By the way–which one would you rather fuck? I’m torn. In the worst possible way.
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.