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I’m never coming down…

ill be back soon, maybe

It’s easy, bikes eclipse any and all modes of transportation in the city. And though one might figure, ” I need rainbow colored flare, skinny-exposed ribs, and a disengaging identity to be down to ride”, that is kinda true, but by no means a prerequisite. Oh and helmets? Albeit breaking my jaw, nose, and ego, I can honestly say pssh to all of that safety jazz…all you need is a funky hat to protect your noodle.

Most importantly, the bike. Before I delve though, let me use this opportunity to say:

Attention: My “borrowed” bike was stolen the other night outside my spot between the hours of 4am-4pm on Saturday. If you stole it…motherfucker its green, obviously I’m going to spot you out among the hipsters with fairy color jawns. And if you happen to see it or one of your scum bag friends that lives in Fishtown boosted my shit, reach out at kwankills at gmail dot com to receive a reward not to be valued at more than a 1/4. It looks like:

lost

Now, the bike. While everyone downtown these days seem pressed on befriending anyone European because of the ensuing embarrassment that hood friends cause when the parents are in town from Scranton and such…I say eff both and bang out with the sexiest piece of foreign work to hit Stateside since Selma Hayek did a premature-stirring shimmy in that one Tarantino jawn. Awe…moving on: the Peugeot, love it:

sexy sexy

And don’t be bamboozled into thinking fixed is the only way to go. Clean and classic, the Peugeot is like Joan Rivers, forever sexy.

mmm

***note…my sexy, one more time.

mmm mmm so sexy toes curls so sexy

honest:

the words and blog have gone to shit lately because as i type this i’m forced to hold my screen with one hand and type with the other…long story, long party, etc. etc.

the other day i was in court waiting for my turn of injustice and was peeping the woman’s case before mine. she stood before the courts on a charge connecting her to stolen old bay seasoning and 1 strawberry kool aid pack. snickers were at an all time high.

Point: life is not that bad…I’ll be back soon with 5th + Prospect. Btw, I don’t think too highly of this:

POP!

Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.

                                                                     -Oscar Wilde

Which I’m sure has much to do with M.I.A receiving the venerable accolade of Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People:

miatime

But just an afterthought of a villain, that will hopefully materialize into plenty of duckets along with world domination…Create something that peoples will want to mirror!

Anyways, painter Joe Holbrook represents the art imitating life side and I can most definitely dig his perspective, talent, blahblahblah too. Its like art for the peoples such as myself that could care a fuck less about the intrinsic beauty of boobies:joe holbrook looking good

joe holbrook_untitled

big_rye_joeholbrook

joe holbrook_sleeping_beauty

The Internets are loaded with time demolishing shit to knock you off your hustle…If you have no hustle though, peep Hamburger Eyes, I dig it. I mean its no You Porn, but visually audacious nonetheless and might motivate you to do art or move to San Francisco and act like you do.

Vanache…The name Vanache makes me think of this one homeless guy that walks around the city saying, “I could kill someone with my bare hands”. Why I will forever find that phrase more funny than threatening is beyond me. So Vanache’s blog is so thriller and will fuck your head up with cool runnings on a fresh layout, daily. I aspire to be that cool and die young.

And finally, what transforms my life, almost on a daily basis (talk about a good groove):

king britt

Reverse hibernation constitutes slipping off :

vans

While lamping at your local park in:

lola walt whitman

With a chilled chick looking comfy in(specifically bottom right):

jumpsuits

All the while catching summertime breezes to:

note…the fly walt whitman piece by Lola New York and fuck a porsche, I’ll take that up there.

Lived Philly this weekend in the manner of an ill-fated artist, not prone to drugs or sex, that was given only one weekend to live. From front to back, North to South, interesting to wtf everI pedaled hard through Philly’s art scene. 75% coherent and pretty attentive I went to go see Cezanne and Beyondan exhibition featuring the work of Paul Cezanne side by side  a sleu of other fine art stalwarts he inspired: Picasso, Mastisse, Ellsworth Kelly,etc:

cezanne and beyond

But damn though, though there was a will, there was no way I could drop the $24 they unexpectedly asked for when I reached the front of the line. Was bummed and so were the peoples:

philly art museum fu.

Although in a turn of events, found an indpendent gallery where the whole get up entailed: a smart use of space, fordward thinking, and free daytime beers and hummus.

color show

south st. gallery

sexy

note…the gallery is saint march, also went to the tiberino house “the circus”, but prefer not to take photos of that…should experience it first hand.

Work it out Chicago!