OK, I was wrong. This thread is awesome.
Trust me, you don’t want the oral test.
I wasn’t trying to start any meme. At first I had three items to list, but the third one turned out to be unnecessary. The situation reminded me of Opal’s list meme so rather than rewrite the whole thing I just added that little tribute/remembrance. I think that thread in ATMB worrying about this turning into a meme was rather piss-ant, considering that it was only done once.
If that thread was piss-ant, does that make this one shit-roach?
My grandpa was an electrician and use to carve little animals out of scrap lumber or foam or whatever was at hand on the job site. guys always asked him to carve stuff for their kids and grandkids. He carved 3 inch dogs that looked like they were about to hop up and beg you for a treat. When I was 6, he carved me a life-size revolver that actually worked, when you pulled the trigger the chamber would rotate and the hammer would move back and forth.
So what I’m saying is, you’re a shit artist compared to my grandfather, who wasn’t even an artist, just a bored electrician.
Told ya!
Oh man. You just wait until you’re dead because I’m going to give you the tongue lashing like you’ve never seen.
HOLY SHIT!!! You have to tell me where to get some.
Bah! My grandpa was a hobo who sucked dick for crack and he used to fix peoples boomboxes and walkmans for extra cash for crack.
So what I’m saying is that your grandpa was a shit electrician compared to my grandpa who was just a crack addicted hobo.
I would love to say a tiny little cheese shop in the heart of downtown but I found it at target.
I had to study for my constipation test.
I didn’t pass.
So you had a mental block?
I never said he was a good electrician! Also, congratulations to your grandfather on remaining useful to society even while suffering under such a powerful addiction.
I was up all night studying for my drug test.
You are awesome! Thank you.
I just looked at their website but it’s not listed. Now I gotta leave my basement and actually go to the store. :mad:
I passed that one with flying colors.
Actually, it was flying colored elephants.
I blew my load on my last post, I should have said: Maybe you needed a study aid.
OMG! Seeing your name in this thread just reminded me that I had a dream about you last night! In the dream, you were a girl. I don’t know if you are IRL or not.
Anyhoo, we were highly amused to be looking at an elephant shrew (which looked kind of like the Looney Tunes boxing kangaroo, only gray), since your name is** Biffy the Elephant Shrew** and all.
That is all. You may now return to your regularly-scheduled pitting.
Real artists. Who make actual money selling paintings. Unlike Opal.
Betty used to paint lovely pictures. And sell them, unlike Opal. Then she suffered a stroke (she’s in her 70s), and couldn’t use her right hand anymore. Someone (my mother) told her she would paint again, but she’d do it left-handed. Betty didn’t believe that. Nevertheless, she did. The first result is hanging on my wall. And she’s selling pictures, again.
Estella has been painting, and selling, pictures for (more than) the past 30 years.
I’ve got one of her earliest works on my wall. She gave me that one as a gift. It’s a Picasso-like rendition of “old San Juan”. She gave me that picture many years ago, before she’d ever sold any of her works. She sells the ones she does, today, for a better living than I’ve ever made.
Opal was an ‘artist’, only in her own mind. Betty and Estella, on the other hand…
Huh. I was giving you the benefit of the doubt by positing that you’d done too much blow. Turns out, you really are just *that *big of an asshole.
I didn’t know Opal, nor her artwork. Maybe she was a no-talent hack. I can’t and won’t judge.
But I don’t understand the foolishness coming out of your keyboard. You’re telling me that money, not the mind, makes the artist. Sorry, Van Gogh. You ain’t no real artist. And go sit in the corner somewhere, Gauguin. You’s a nobody. No one wants to look at your ugly-looking people, you fuckin’ poseur.
There’s something purely innocent about someone who creates just because their mind–and only their mind–tells them they can. There was a time when a person like this was the very definition of an artist.
Just in case you didn’t know, it’s pretty pathetic to be jealous over a dead woman.
What a nasty, petty little shit you are.
Who the fuck cares if **Opal **made a living off her art? It was something that was a big part of her life, and now she’s dead at a tragically young age. Arguing that she wasn’t a “real artist” because she didn’t make a proper career out of it is pathetic.