This is my kind of art.

A painting that’s not worth selling, and a fully functioning sourdough starter.

"When life hands you lemons, make lemonade? No. First you roll out a multi-media campaign to convince people lemons are incredibly scarce, which only works if you stockpile lemons, control the supply, then a media blitz. Lemon is the only way to say ‘I love you,’ the must-have accessory for engagements or anniversaries. Roses are out, lemons are in. Billboards that say she won’t have sex with you unless you got lemons. You cut De Beers in on it. Limited edition lemon bracelets, yellow diamonds called lemon drops. You get Apple to call their new operating system OS-Lemón. A little accent over the ‘o.’ You charge 40% more for organic lemons, 50% more for conflict-free lemons. You pack the Capitol with lemon lobbyists, you get a Kardashian to suck a lemon wedge in a leaked sex tape. Timotheé Chalamet wears lemon shoes at Cannes. Get a hashtag campaign. Something isn’t ‘cool’ or ‘tight” or ‘awesome,’ no, it’s ‘lemon.’ ‘Did you see that movie? Did you see that concert? It was effing lemon.’ Billie Eilish, ‘OMG, hashtag… lemon.’ You get Dr. Oz to recommend four lemons a day and a lemon suppository supplement to get rid of toxins ‘cause there’s nothing scarier than toxins. Then you patent the seeds. You write a line of genetic code that makes the lemons look just a little more like tits… and you get a gene patent for the tit-lemon DNA sequence, you cross-pollinate… you get those seeds circulating in the wild, and then you sue the farmer for copyright infringement when that genetic code shows up on their land. Sit back, rake in the millions, and then, when you’re done, and you’ve sold your lem-pire for a few billion dollars, then, and only then, you make some fucking lemonade.”

I am vast, I contain multitudes.

Agreed, except that’s not Mamdani, that’s Abdul El-Sayed.

Glad you enjoyed. You’re better organized than me. There have been many times I’ve wished I could thank whoever recommended me a book, but I have no idea who, where, or when that was.

He died, which really put a damper on the whole thing.

Ceci n’est pas fighting words.

Isn’t it funny how people who “have food” are less likely to be all that interested in leftism. And those who don’t have “food” look at them, want more leftism because they want want the “food” the people who have “food” and they don’t have.

It’s still garbled, but makes a better point.

Why is the “si” in red? Does that mean something?

I’ve been looking forward to this one, but David Harbour being such an asshat is hashing my buzz.

Rectangles are just squares that got greedy to take up more space.

Hanlon’s razor: never attribute to maliciousness that which can be explained by stupidity. With a corallary: never attribute to stupidity that which can be explained by mere ignorance.

Also: embrace the impermanence.

There’s a dark bird in the bottom right quadrant. I’m guessing anhinga? Osprey maybe?

Some sourdough may be ok for her. My brother’s doctor recommended that for his diabetes over non-flour keto options. It just has to be real sourdough, not the stuff that’s commonly sold in grocery stores.

I love the way you name your color combos.

Couldn’t he also be placed in transporter stasis until they figured something out? It’s been a while since I’ve watched, idk if that was discussed.

Had a dream the other night about Christian Kane.

OK but do you ever dream you’re supposed to be able to walk, but your feet keep hovering a few inches above the ground, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t quite get all the way down?

Have you seen What We Do in the Shadows (TV series)? That didn’t work out too well for Nandor.