arthipstory

Featured prominently in Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Socrates, these are in fact expressions of myself in various realizations that…
– weekend plans legitimately include a St. Patrick’s Day bar crawl,
– projects have actual deadlines on which I’m evaluated professionally,
– my library books are overdue. Again.

Kidding: I’m so stoked about this bar crawl.

I will celebrate Pi Day the only way I know how: by housing a slice of pie for eery single person that annoyed me the day prior.

Right now, I’m up to about…35 people.

Oh, someone just cut me in line for the vending machine.

Thirty-six.

when I’m faced with…
– any/all responsibility in the workplace
– unanswered text messages that feature a read receipt
– knowing my dog is at home, curled up and napping
– bills, of any amount.

Grandma Moses on her 88th birthday is an accurate portrayal of my birthday plans this weekend. Did you know Norman Rockwell helped deliver this cake that’s decorated with tableau scenes from her own work?

Darling.

A Basquiat print is available off Wayfair. Thoughts?

It’s so beautiful, but I feel like he’d be legit “what in the fresh hell?” regarding the print being printed on a wrapped canvas in a variety of square-shaped dimensions.

Me: I’m moving in a week, and not one single box is packed.
Also me: This is my weekend…

I’m supposed to be moving in three weeks, and this is all I’ve accomplished.

Alright, I called the movers and ordered those reusable moving crates, but that is it. 

Just like this fine musician, I TOO will stop a party to correct someone (usually their grammar or overarching political views).

What they don’t know is, both this sir and I are just doing a kindness. You might say screw off now, but you’ll thank us later.

Can we chat about Arnold Bocklin for a second? I mean, this guy had some legitimate selfies in the nineteenth century worth examining….

Like this one. Smart, pensive, a little portly, but still relatively handsome. I’d swipe right for that.

This one I’m less fond of. Are you at the theater? The three-piece suit’s a little much even for 1855. Like, come on dude, everyone knows you know shit about wine. But it looks like you enjoy the theater–not to mention carbs–so I’ll still take you up on dinner and a show.

HELLO, there is a legit SKELETON PLAYING THE VIOLIN and I’d still swipe harder on this dude than literally anyone standing in front of a gym mirror.

Is there an Arnold Bocklin circa 2018 I can hang around town with? One request: Leave the skeleton musicians at home, plz.

When there’s a pint of chocolate-covered banana gelato in the freezer, but to get to it, you gotta face your roommate’s magnet that says, “I ain’t nobody’s fat ex-girlfriend.”

Damn.