die with the most likes

my goal isn’t the louvre or the fuckin tate or any museum. it’s to be printed on gas station sex pills. or on a billboard next to a personal injury attorney. or to be sold next to fuckable plush snuggies on QVC. my goal is to be the asphalt we walk on.

@bchiv it’s an animal or a collection, can’t wait to unleash this fucker. soon enough. 🥲🥩

@toadswiback Can’t wait for launch to see them all together!

years later the things we thought meant something were melted into a mason jar and used to suffocate wasps nests in viral videos all of those years and all of those dead wasps and eyes that weren’t different than nests finding a substance to be suffocated by

@tomsegal @bchiv man was just contemplating how depressing this is, daily’s, physicals, some fucker is minting them all.

@bchiv @toadswiback Half of them are already in my wallet! Graciously minted on Base and gifted to me for free 🙏

dying is not enough.

for birthdays we’d go to party city and select a balloon no longer capable of touching the ceiling even though there was no discount in its deflation no savings in its failure dad would say the ground was as good as the ceiling and things weren’t meant to fly forever and celebrations sometimes weren’t much more than a string around your hand

balloon factory.

good meat.

do it.

performative death of ego.

eternal pop.

good meat.

horrifically fucking back.

"dying is not enough" is a visual approximation of the descent from human to husk. it documents existing in a state of perpetual salvation and slaughter. sometimes both executing concurrently.  the distinction between pleasure or pain erodes in the intestines of the involuntary ritual. we relinquish ourselves to an imitation serving platter, satisfied that hands still grope blindly for something to fill their plates.

i've been called the dave hester of an aluminum box generation. the walmart yodel kid for people who can only hear the sound of oxidizing beef. the judge judy of a failed revolution. I was once referred to as the runner up of america's got talent season twenty four by the bastard cousin of a deep fake of simon cowell. now picasso. we are so fucking back.

this is our Picasso

dying is not enough.

find you a friend like blondie who gets you a present for going in and a present for going out for your bday. can’t wait to dial up the plumber after a birthday porcelain buster sponsored by these dude wipes that i’m already soaking in robotussin. so fucking back.

good meat.

@Blondie23LMD @messedupfoods where can I sign up to help can these? it’s apparently shoving a lizard in there while still alive.

@messedupfoods @toadswiback

any news?

you know a piece is progressing when the box top you’re using to mix on becomes too heavy with dried paint for another thrust. the cardboard longing to carry another pointless gift instead of suffocating under the frenzy of a brush and the artists dwindling sanity.