tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115211442011-04-21T20:33:35.237-07:00P. Kirkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13174770250234749093noreply@blogger.comBlogger41100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11521144.post-1122832845182665842005-07-31T10:58:00.000-07:002005-07-31T11:00:45.186-07:00Today is Gay Roger's birthday. I hope if I give him an art card I can avoid giving him a handjob. I need to save my strength for drawing.<br /><br /><center><br /><img src="http://www.pooter.net/2005/roger/gingerbread.jpg"><br /></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11521144-112283284518266584?l=philkirk.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P. Kirkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13174770250234749093noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11521144.post-1122331906354253162005-07-25T15:50:00.000-07:002005-07-25T15:57:14.760-07:00My idea to improve Iowa City: instead of one bronze Irving Weber downtown and a bunch of geese stuck on street signs: bronze HEADS of Irving Weber, as if he's buried up to his head, placed all over town. By street corners, by manholes, wherever. In some, he's in excruciating pain from his burial torture. In others, he's happy with his fate. The Fucking Duality of Man as embodied by Irving Weber.<br /><br />P.S. The dark cloud in the sky comes from Roger's cab. I wish he could be more green.<br /><br /><center><br /><img src="http://www.pooter.net/2005/roger/card9a.jpg"><br /></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11521144-112233190635425316?l=philkirk.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P. Kirkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13174770250234749093noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11521144.post-1114520304945803422005-04-26T05:52:00.000-07:002005-04-26T05:58:24.946-07:00Some people say that artists are kind of freaky—you know, freaky like Roger's freaky, when he gets his freak on. I prefer to think that we artists are just sexually enlightened.<br /><br />Trees and birds are sexy, too.<br /><br /><center><br /><img src="http://www.pooter.net/2005/roger/vagina1.jpg"><br /></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11521144-111452030494580342?l=philkirk.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P. Kirkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13174770250234749093noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11521144.post-1113068093559656262005-04-09T10:34:00.000-07:002005-04-09T12:48:31.663-07:00...<br />God, I hated eating peas when I was a kid. Even today I sometimes weep when confronted with a bowl of fresh (or frozen) peas. Snap peas make me paranoid.<br /><br />What I really wanted was ham, or maybe pineapple, or perhaps a fresh latte.<br /><br /><center><br /><img src="http://www.pooter.net/2005/roger/april09.jpg"><br /></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11521144-111306809355965626?l=philkirk.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P. Kirkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13174770250234749093noreply@blogger.com1