Hello Art Lovers,
Toilet Cobra here. I haven’t been blogging on the Mishka Bloglin much recently except in relation to products. I’ve been busy doing more important shit. Mishka’s had me working in the Mishka sweatshop, grinding up the babies that we melt down and turn into T-shirts.
No seriously, I been busy as Hell. I did a fourteen page interview with Genesis P-Orrdige that will be available on this site soon. I did a watercolor portrait of Jay Reatard which you can get on a T-shirt by joining his official fanclub. I did a few paintings for Scion, the car company. I drew that T-shirt in the photo above and I made art for my show of paintings and drawings at the Mishka store.
Here’s some of the art. It was just one giant cluster of either fifty or fifty-one pieces. Some were framed, some were new. Some were just old shit. None of them got bought because I priced them too high for the kind of dirtbags who come to the Mishka store.
Maybe some zany billionaire will swoop in and buy all my art. Either way, I’ll be fine. This isn’t the Nick Gazin giftshop, THIS IS MY FUCKING ART! ART! ART! ART! Imagine me slamming my head on a piano over and over again like Schroeder as you read that last outburst.
I dedicated the show to my brother Charlie. I miss him a lot. I also dedicated it to my old hair. I miss it too.
It was a fucking shitty evening but the Mishka stores throbbing purple light drew out the streetware nerdos like a bug zapper.
My dad showed up kind of looking like Indiana Jones when he shows up as a bearded and elderly Indiana Jones in the second season of the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles. You ever try to watch that show? It’s so fucking unwatchable. They tried to make it educational but the information they offer up is either mostly fake or common knowledge. Also, Indiana Jones was full of magic and shit.
The point of Indiana Jones isn’t to teach kids about Ancient Egypt, it’s about seeing girls covered in rats and bugs and then seeing a nazi’s head explode. Remember when my dad exploded the horror convention with his meanness?
I think these girls got their hair from the same wig shoppe.
It’s reassuring to know that the goofy and hot high school goth chicks who walk around with candy and giant stuffed Pikachus are still roaming the land, proud and free. They’re like buffalo that make me feel horny and old and bitter. Good candy though.
Way to try to hide how cute you are with big glasses, lady. Doesn’t work. I still know that you’re hotstuff. You need to get bigger glasses.
Hey, it’s my pal Karen. My favorite pastime is flirting at her mom. She commuted to the show in a bi-plane by the look of her outfit.
I talked to these NYU girls for a little bit. Apparently their video art professor told them about the show. They all look so cute but there’s something that’s also kind of apologetic and naive about them.
I wonder if there’s a place i can go to meet thirty-five year old divorcees who’ve been beaten down by life. There was just too much youthful energy at my show and it made me sick.