Torsten Solin is an artist who likes dolls.
His pictures combine the following awesome elements:
Big eyed girl +
My contribution to IF this week is a tribute to his art, which I would describe as ferocious. My version has no boobies, you’ll have to click here for those.
Also, my cat is asleep. Not dead. Also, this will be my last contribution for a while, ’cause the Schopenfags are going to do America.
Yeehaw! It’s going to be just us, a little baby and the open road. Diners and chicken-fried steaks and flat-tires, as far as the eye can see. Jack Kerouac and ten sandwiches to cross the country with, stuffed marmots staring down at you glassy eyed in Norman Bates motel rooms…
The smell of redwood pines…
And in other news!
The world’s littlest moof got sick this week. : / It was his first sickness EVER and he did not like it one bit. I was wondering why he was howling so lustily at dinner last weekend. We’d gone out with friends and he’s usually quite a genial baby in public, but this night, (–) thrashed and wailed. …I even had to take him into another little room (we were in a Japanese restaurant) and eat my fried octopus legs in the dark while I tried to get him to sleep…
(mmm, octopus legs…)
The next day he was full-blown sick.
I tried to explain to him: Baby, this is called feeling like shit.
It comes and it goes, but he didn’t get it.
His howls sounded so betrayed.
It’s gone for him and come for me; now I feel like someone stuffed
wet, hot, ass-soaked cotton behind my eyeballs. I too want to howl for revenge; find who did this and make them pay…