We’ve all heard fish stories. Someone went fishing and caught a fish, and that fish increases in size each time the fisherman (fisher-person?) tells the story about the catch.
Kookie Shitlips, resident crazy person of Ivlog, is spinning her fish story even as I type this post. This afternoon, Kookie stated that she had approached an art gallery with an idea. She talked about taking screen caps of some comments concerning her, “scribbling” on them, thereby transforming these posts into art and having a one woman exhibition of … whatever. Art, it ain’t. She said the mythological dealer of art was interested in this idea and after a pregnant pause, Shitlips added she was going to be paid. More about “being paid” later in this post.
That keen legal maven, Candy Rayne, playing her role of enabler of the demented, advised Kookie that by virtue of scribbling on these screen shots, they would then become Kookie’s intellectual property. Kookie cackled about wanting to be sued by the authors of the scribbled upon posts (sued for precisely what, she did not say) as that would require said plaintiffs to identify themselves in the forthcoming fantasy legal proceedings. In other words, a typical Kookie fantasy wherein she conjures up amazing plots so she can be the heroine and vanquish all who stand before her.
This evening, the story, much like that fish, had grown considerably. By 11pm, the story was that an art gallery had approached her with this idea. Now that makes NO effing sense at all for at least two very good reasons. First, exactly how would this phantasmagorical art dealer know anything about Shitlip’s experiences on the internet, and secondly, why in the name of Blue Jesus would he then advise the Bag Lady of Ivlog to “scribble” on screen shots of which he has no knowledge?
As the witching hour approached, one art dealer became TWO art dealers. Yes, apparently the Art World of New York City is beating a path to the rent-controlled walk-up that is the abode of Kookie, and they come waving money. I said I would get back around to “being paid”. Art galleries work on consignment sales, Kookster. NO ONE IS GOING TO PAY YOU A DIME FOR A COPY OF A SCREEN CAPTURE THAT YOU HAVE DRAWN SOME LINES ON. Sadly, I have actually seen some of her “art work” and… well, it’s easier to show it than attempt to describe it. It is about at the level of a child with their very first box of crayons.
On the one hand, it is entertaining watching her lunacy from a front row seat, on the other hand, it is kinda sad watching her lunacy from a front row seat.