So luckily I’ve found my black leather pants at the St.
Vincent de Paul store. Aaron Broughton will stud them for me and give me tips
on how to schmooze people at bars. Aaron Kent will let me run stairs with him
to chisel my body as needed. I have a grant from the Andy Warhol Foundation for
the staff positions I need, including brand manager and social media
coordinator (thanks Sara Caswell Pearce). Those of you who offered help on Facebook,
I will be calling on you for glowing reviews of my work, using many
superlatives and Hollywood adjectives sprinkled through numerous convoluted
jargony sentences so everyone knows I should be taken seriously. I currently
have a titillating backstory in the works, which I will reveal at just the
right time. And (don’t tell anyone) I will fake my death on the eve of my next
exhibition. So that’s the plan.
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