Ramiro Davaro Comas’s work has been described as a nightmarish bikini bottom. Others have compared it to Ralph Steadman. I understood the work akin to Tim Burton’s world in James in the Giant Peach. Continue reading
- The Dig’s (yester)day in snippet form-
- Morning coffee orders- medium regular, large with a shot, medium skim, packets of salt. Courtney apparently subsists solely on sodium deposits.
- Big ups to Chaka Khan.
- “You ever had a mustache before?”
- “Hilary, what does this say in Spanish?” “It says it’ll kill you.” “Awesome!”
- Issue out. Next due. No Rest. No Hope.
Best be packing up your snood there, “Robert Goulet”—Movember has come and gone. Now, ain’t nobody denying the good you’ve done for men’s health research there, “David Axelrod,” but it just might be the time to pick up the razor and resume next year. That thing on your lip is starting to creep us out a little. Like your eyebrows went apeshit on the fertility drugs and sired some sort of filth-encrusted hair mutant. Yes, yes, by all means, attend the gala reception for your fellow Mo Bros and Sistas at Ned Devine’s. Then chop, chop, “Dennis Eckersley circa 1977.” [One Faneuil Hall Market Pl., Boston. 8pm. us.movember.com]
Be they bushy, brushy or pencil-thin, crimson or a whiter shade of pale, ironic earnest, or some measure of both, depending on if that chick in the sundress by the punch bowl is into it, the mustache has crawled its way out of shameful obscurity … Continue reading