George Bush’s portraits are positively ghoulish, and I’d say
he’s about as accomplished an artist as he was a president. The faces of these
bloodless politicos give me the willies. Take that any way you wish. One thing
is certain – he’s no Gilbert Stuart, and his “portraits of powerful people” are
absolutely lifeless. They make the subjects look frightening – I’d hate to be
under the thumb of one of these zombies. Okay, well, I just had to get that out
of my system. If Bush goes on dabbling in art maybe a real artist will start
dabbling in politics. Horrors!
A retired Fiat factory worker in Italy had two
post-impressionist masterpieces hanging on the wall in his kitchen! Dio mio!
Very hard to believe he had no idea of their worth. Imagine he brings them home
from a garage sale one day and his wife takes a look and says something like, “Wasting
your hard-earned money on trash again, eh? Oofah! What am I going to do with
you? You’re so gullible! A born buffone!” And he replies, rather sheepishly, “But carina, they told me they would be worth
something someday!” Yeah, about 80
million dollars. I can imagine his response when he discovered their true
value. “Now I can buy the factory where I used to work!”
Do you like bowls? Do you like old china bowls? I mean really like old china bowls, ones with chickens
painted on them? Would you be willing to pay a lot of moola for one? How about
$30 million? That’s what they’re going for these days in Beijing. Imagine a
billionaire coming home with one.
Husband: Hi, honey, I got you a
present. Here it is. I hope you like it.
Wife: A bowl? A tiny little bowl?
We already have plenty of bowls, and this one’s not even big enough for soup. (pause) How much did you pay for it?
Husband: Only thirty million
dollars . . .
Wife: THIRTY MILLION DOLLARS!!!
The
Wife faints dead away and the bowl crashes to the floor.
Husband: Oh, well. It’s only money.
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