Thursday, January 21, 2016

Never Too Late To Ketchup.









Participated in the Bucketfeet X Secret Walls battle and these were the only decent shots I was able to take. It was a shit show which you can see the video for a few posts down. I had a lot to drink and was coming from another job, so I was feeling nice and primed to be a douche hole. Our team won in the end, so it felt pretty great. My head in the morning...not so great. My diarrhea from doing drugs the night before...not so great. The pizza I ordered the night before...fucking great. 


I mean, is this really necessary? Like who you tryin to get fucked by, Spider Man? On the flip side, the dude with the necktie absolutely destroyed the dance floor and put spider ho back in his place. 








Seriously though, how good is this dude's work? Uriel Correa who has now moved to LA, debuted a whole new series of work at 32nd and Urban in Bridgeport. So creative and colorful and HE DOES NO DRUGS! People take acid for weeks to have visions and color combos like this. It's unfair and awesome to see a well curated and executed show. And even though we are practically the same age, he reminds me of my nephew, shy and giggly...in a non creepy way.



A few paintings I did for Juno in Lincoln Park. It was specific for a portion of the dining room. I felt good and all Asian about it. On another note, that bounce lint roller is going on 3 years.



The aftermath or djing Small Bar's birthday party. You would think some drunk belligerent would do something like this...it was Ty, the owner. You really can do anything you want if you're handsome. I'm just glad I didn't have to clean it all up. 



That nest tho.


Run the Jewels at Pitchfork with Zach De La Rocha and Gangsta Boo surrounded by white suburban hipsters? YES PLEASE! 


Wanna know whats wrong with millennials and young people in general? Their obsession with themselves. These are all polaroids taken and then stapled throughout the weekend and here are the shitty hoards of kids desperately searching for their own picture because I dont think they ever knew what it meant to have a physical picture of themselves that is permanent and tangible. I seriously saw girls on top of each other looking to snatch their photos down. These are signs that the end is nigh and stupid. 


I have no idea where this painting went. 


Took an impromptu trip up to Madison because, why the hell not? 







Donna and I ate all of the food at Graft, where the homie Sam Mcdaniel relocated to from Chicago. Food was all seasonal and farm to tabley and all of that shit. It was really good and a nice addition to the weird circle street surrounding the capital building. 


Always gotta stop by the Old Fashioned for fried cheese curds. Its best you'll ever have it. Also rainbow lit balls never go out of OLD FASHIONED, get it? Fuck y'all.


If a house can look like a murderer, this house would be a murderer that kills other houses. 


I mean.








OY. The homie Michael was kind enough to have us eat all the sausage and show us around the shop and the commissary where all of their amazing products are processed. Its an amazing operation complete with all kinds of hanging smoked dongs. My foreskin wiggled a little looking at all of this. 


This is so Colombian. 


When in Madison, link up with an old high school buddy who runs an amazing salvage/antique/restoration shop and paint the back of his truck for fun. 


I forgot where this pit stop was, but it was near Underground Butcher and it wasn't bad. That's all I have to say about this place. 





Decent placement of radishes and made sense. 






Still remembering the meal from Forequarter. This place is connected with the Underground Butcher peeps as well. This place was fucking dope. I definitely overate and saw my gut protruding out to point where I couldn't see my shoes anymore but who gave a fuck when that whole meal just made sense and was worth every bite. I don't like making comparisons, but this place would give any "farm to table" restaurant a run for its money. 


And right across the street was The Caribou Tavern which definitely housed some characters. Seedy, an old person behind the bar and weird gassy bar snacks made this place feel right at home. 


And then on the complete opposite end of the spectrum was Gibs bar. A classy joint in a house with all kinds of reclaimed wood provided by my friends company (scroll up foo). 



Need I say more? They had great strong cocktails and a Nitrogen tank for some of the more experimental cocktails. I didn't see the necessity of all that, but I guess it was interesting? This menu freaked me the fuck out for some reason. I felt like I was in an episode of Twin Peaks. 

Does anybody else hate Apple products? Half of my photos from my phone won't register when I plug in and the language they use always make it sound like dooms day with any action I take. Thats why this post is a little light as well as the next few to come. I miss disposable cameras. 



















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