Fear and Loathing in Chicago Part 2 - The Cost of Art

Brad must be some sort of monster dick. Of the females I've known most would opt for calling Brad for help so they could spend the rest of their lives making sure Brad lives a miserable, wretched life. At the bottom of this post I've given an example of Jupiter in the role of 'Brad' while Venus in the role of 'The Drowning Girl' (had she chosen to survive) giving him the what for. Obviously something is seriously wrong with Drowning Girl and it's commendable that she's opted to remove herself from the gene pool in this manner.

Still, you're a dick Brad!

I'm standing in the Chicago Museum of Art staring at Roy Lichtenstein's Drowning Girl when I come to the realization that I love her. I love her so much that I bought a copy of the Drowning Girl which now hangs in a section of my ever shrinking man cave in the basement. I love her so much that I purchased a Roy Lichtenstein 'man purse' for $40 (it's black, so it's thinning THANK GOD!) to carry this treasure when my wife refused to - the bag proved useful throughout the vacation.

What attracts me (like a moth to flame) to the Drowning Girl is her total devotion to her self destructive behavior. She's the apex of narcissism opting to die rather than ask the dick Brad for help. She's so wonderfully headstrong that you've just got to laugh at her melodramatic stupidity while simultaneously admiring her stick-to-it-ive-ness to her moronic cause. One wonders, "Was it worth it?"

Truly, what's not to love?

I dug Lichtenstein. I liked quite a bit of the stuff in the Chicago Art Museum and took a lot of pictures of art and angry Hindu Gods. What I don't like, what I mock is what's called "modern art." Thankfully I saw none of that. I'm a bit of a Brad when it comes to modern art, don't try and broaden my horizons on that front or I'll annoy you with my giggling.

Jupiter's (Brad's) expression just screams, "SHUT UP!" This is what the Drowning Girl opted out of.

Popping out of the art museum we cross the street to get our kicks on Route 66.