Last Friday, Claire, Khalida and I went to a silent auction/beer bash in Williamsburg. A third of the proceeds went to Printed Matters, a non-profit dedicated to the promotion of publications made by artists. And the beer was free too! So we sipped and stared and gabbed and threw down bids. I won the piece I was bidding on (below). It's a digital illustration with a very manga feel. I will hang it in the loo of a future apartment and in the bedroom of a future child. Lessons for the night: buying original pieces is always fun, free beer tastes better than $5 beer and my generation is full of shallow, hipster trash.
While in the line, the drunk girls in front of me were making a pact to "pee and only pee" so that the wait wasn't overly long. One turned to me and asked how often I shit. I responded, barely masking my contempt, that presuming my diet was above board, I shit 2-3 times a day. She said "Oh" and turned away as if to say I'd let the conversational volley fall. "Eat shit, scatbrains!" That's what I should've said. Live and learn, I guess. I did take comfort in the idea that, presuming she continues down this path, chatting up strangers about poop and the like while visibly intoxicated, she's probably gonna end up a lampshade in some stockbroker's murder dungeon. Every party has a silver lining.