In Which I Dine on Humble Pie
It's no secret that I make some pretty mean macaroni art....it kind of runs in the family. I don't want to brag, but I try to strike just the right balance of art and science--I mean, I could go all Seurat, and neglect the spiritual side, but I want my macaroni masterpieces to grab the viewer by the soul. Just when I was thinking I was hot stuff, though, along comes somebody like Jason Mecier to prove that I ain't even turtlesh*t on melba toast. Mother, Mary of God! With a lifetime of struggle, I can only hope to be Salieri to Mecier's Mozart, no matter how hard I try. The angels breathe life into every Dukes of Hazzard clock that he makes out of beans. A Unicorn gets its wings every time he gets the shading on Freud's nose right in one of his pill portraits. Did I mention the pencil portraits? The candy? Despair, thy name is...um.....me. Sigh.
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