Russ Mill’s Byroglyphics: Limp-Wrist This Slick Piss
We have but few opportunities to get spillectrified
Pain and emotion and life and death live abiding by a simple rule: splatter ketchup on your mac and cheese. Good? Good. If the confusion or disagreement is setting in, then put your hands in your pockets, and start thinking exceptionally avant garde. Life is a splatter. We do it to toilets and exterior bar walls, and everything in every club that has a female-like appearance. Why shouldn’t we do the same to mac and cheese?
When I see that someone has followed a similar path through this hodgepodge, it takes me a good month of jealous death plans to get through until I can stand upright with a clear mind and reach the necessary end. This end, in an adult sense, is a bit of respect. Without a name or website to peruse, I have had this very same conglomeration of chaos-mind for the work of Russ Mills.
This mofo LIVES splatter. He cooks those cheesy shits in a muddle stew of rancid gravy and ketchup to a truly Chanel no. 5 type-o-brown. Its like puppy pup-poo but pretty. Its like your shitty ex girlfriend, after some necessary attitude and upper lip waxing. Its like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich you sent back for a much less stupid sandwich. Like? Yes, I do. I have a firm “like” for his shit. Don’t love it, but like it enough to make me angry at everyone else for not knowing who Im talking about. Get it? Fucking great!
Peep this man’s basepoint for more imagery salad.
Now pardon me whilst I go shut the fuck up.
Photos courtesy of http://www.byroglyphics.com