Dahmer Debauchery 057 Apparently I only write drivel anyway, and am really good at talking about myself, so today’s post is going to be all about what I’ve been doing within the past 48 hours. Me, me, me, me.

Went to Gawker, answered questions, looked fat. Learned that Gawker Media is operated by well-dressed immigrants. Went to art shows with DJ Mayonnaise Hands; looked little less fat, viewed bullshit art.

Learned that eccentric art collectors are nymphomaniacs, and don’t care if you’ve been on a Most Wanted list. Learned that people still trust me to watch their bags.

Not all art show people are complete stuck-up assholes, some of them are just moderate douchebags.
Showing your tits doesn’t always get you in to highly-secured areas; a box of cigarettes does.
Animal/Gawker comments still make me laugh; not just the bad ones, but really, those ones are the best.

Found that, not only do I look like a little boy, I sound like a man.

Okay, so I know that this isn’t really an article, but for as much as you people complain about how terrible my articles are (but still read them, for whatever reason), you can consider this a gift. Hundreds of words less than my normal daily, and much easier to talk shit on.

For those of you that enjoy my writing, or pretend to for sexual favors (Gawker pays their commenters, I’ve got to do the same), I’ll be back on Monday in prime condition, ready to go.

Photo by Elliot Ensor for Spook Magazine