Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The Real Human Being Plush Buddy

Word of advise to anyone planning on making Drive inspired artwork If they are In a relationship. Don't. Don't even think it. There should be a help line set up for artists who have suffered rejection due to their Drive Inspired creations. After making the Real Human Being Operation Game for the FTLO Progress show In Dublin and actually getting past my girlfriend and out of the studio with my arms and the piece intact I believed I would never EVER create any Ryan Gosling themed artwork EVER again. That man brings nothing but pain and suffering to relationships, what a P*%$?!!! Then from out of nowhere that greed ridden holiday came rolling In like an obligated kick In the face and I was quickly running out of make a do time and more importantly get that person you share a life with present getting time! I seriously could not think of one thing to get or make Anne. I thought day In a day out for like a whole day, 'what does Anne really love right now In life'? It was then that my own brain made me feel like I had walked In on an "affairly" large amount of adultery. My idea felt so wrong but yet so right. I knew that at least 96.2% of the entire female population of the world were hoping for one thing that Christmas and I was going to give that very thing to my own female - not the real human being version of course but the one made of fabric thats stuffed with the contents of one of my Ma's pillows. Yes, I did it. Am I ashamed? No. Am I filled with regret and self loathing. Yes. Why? I'll tell you why, because that P$!(%  now lives with us, yet again not the real one but the smaller more cuddly plush one. He watches me from the couch foolishly dropping a whole loo roll into the toilet with his tiny close together eyes. He Is there when I  burn toast In the morning making me feel like a very unaccomplished man. He Is there when I clumsily kick a football back to a group of very experienced football kicking children. He Is there when I am trying to balance on one leg with a towel around me undignifingly trying to get some shit looking underpants on or off depending on the beach like situation. He Is always there reminding me that I make art for a living and I am not a dark mysterious man with a great taste In jackets who kicks men to death In elevators and for that reason I made him with no dick. The END! 

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