Art Is Such A Phallus-y Sometimes. A Penis Pictorial

Yesterday I went to the opening of an exhibition at a small art gallery.

I love exhibitions. Especially when they’re small and quirky.

The invitation to the opening was nondescript and black, and gave no indication of what the art was going to be like, or even what medium it was going to presented in. All we could discern from such an oblique invite were the artists’ names, ksubi and Kane, and the title of the new collection.

The title of the show?

“Sunglasses For Dickheads.”

We thought we were prepared.

We weren’t.

Being unprepared leaves room for surprises.

I love surprises.

This is what we were confronted with when we walked in the door.

Rocking cocks.

And I don’t mean the rooster variety.

There were no chickens there last night.

Nup. No chickens at all.

This piece is entitled “Gary Nudeman.”

Now this, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call art.

I love art.

Did you know that in ancient Egyptian the word for ‘art’ was the same as the word for ‘penis’?

No? That’s because I made it up. But let’s just suspend all that rotten truth and belief stuff and pretend for a second that it’s a fact.

It’s more fun that way.

Would you like to meet Ziggy Hardthrust?

I thought so.

My friend Jostie suspects there might be a secondary penis hiding inside that rather elongated scrotum of Ziggy’s. None of us were in much of a hurry to find out.

I love scrotum’s.

I love art.

I thought the following photograph bore more than a passing resemblance to my friend Dean.

Dean disagreed. He thought this next one was a better likeness.

I love Dean.

HANG ON!!

Is that….? IT IS! It’s Lyall Shovett!!!

At this point I began to wonder if I was hanging out with The Muppet Show Band.

Or perhaps The Village People….

But instead it was Pu Tang.

I love the Pu Tang Clan.

After much ponderous discussion and close-up examination I decided my favorite photograph was the one styled for and named after Ms Siouxsie Bangshee.

Here it is.

Now THAT is a great big piece of ART.

Did I mention I love art?

How did that earring stay on? Or should I say “nutring”? Or “cockring”? Or what???

I love earrings and nutrings and cockrings and what.

After a beer and a glass of wine the obvious kind of boy shenanigans ensued.

I love boys.

Boys will be boys.

Apparently they can’t help it.

The little rockstars between their legs have something to do with it.

Sometimes the rockstars between their legs are bigger than others.

Then they’re called cockstars.

I love rockstars.

I love cockstars too.

Rockstars, cockstars and all things naughty and deranged make me happy.

Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make me happy.

Sometimes it takes a bit more.

Maybe it’s a technique thing.

Brush strokes, lighting… talent. You know.

Like I said…

I love art.

If you exhibit, I will come.