the hoss is into ambient

This is the shit I was into at his age

dear soul diary

"At Hirst's studio on Glengall Road in Peckham yesterday, where the pill cabinets and butterfly paintings are made, workers would not talk about the job losses. One woman, wearing the Hirst "uniform" of a red sweatshirt with a skull on the back of it (inspired by Hirst's £50m diamond sculpture For the Love of God), said she didn't know anything about it.

Another, at the Newport Street studio in Lambeth where the spot paintings are produced, said she had been told not to talk to the press."
via

Not only are you doing the work of another artist for peanuts- you have to wear a stupid sweatshirt and the prick didn't even have the decency to tell you to your face that you're being fired. I'm sure he was afraid, cause artists are weird. And artists that are tormented by the soul emptying work of producing art for more famous artists might be particularly touchy.

imagine the luck

juice huts I'd like to own

via sartorialist

restating the obvious

Mr. Obama, unlike most politicians near a microphone, exults in complexity. He doesn’t condescend or oversimplify nearly as much as politicians often do, and he speaks in paragraphs rather than sound bites. Global Language Monitor, which follows linguistic issues, reports that in the final debate, Mr. Obama spoke at a ninth-grade reading level, while John McCain spoke at a seventh-grade level.
from

caponata

Minus the capers and olives:
2 eggplants cubed
1 medium sweet onion
1 clove garlic
16oz of diced tomato
8oz of sliced mushroom
1 chopped cubanelle pepper
1 teaspoon apricot jam
2-3 teaspoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
Salt and pepper
olive oil and butter

obama rally

"lets have a rally!"


having a smoke out front while the throngs exit


My favorite hotel dive bar was rally hq for the night.

drinking shoes

These are my drinking shoes.


...and these are mine
(burry me in these)