If art fairs were parties, it would be an equal amount of work

This week I did some things and found out some things.

One thing I found out was that we got dumped by trago a couple of days before out party. What a bunch of cactuses. It turns out that artists actually DON'T love tequila or margaritas. Oh well.

Something else I did was research carbon dating for Devon. Needless to say, I'm not a chemist (well, in the traditional sense). In the process I found out that it IS possible to date wool. Young wool, if fact. Wool that would be considered a baby in the spectrum of carbon dating. Luckily, "Niney" wasn't made between 1750 and 1950 AD. In this period, there was a lot of C14 fluctuation in the atmosphere. Well, of course there was. At least I got my email framed. I don't think that will ever happen again.

It's difficult to not laugh will mockingly filming people at The Armory. I hope nobody at The Armory gets a hold of this statement, otherwise we may not be invited back to sample delcious screwdrivers, wine, and hors d'ouevres (sp?). I better watch my mouth What is said in the office stays in the office.

Hey, kids, guess what? There's a new addiction, better than the internet! It's called cut-out-stickers-and-stick-them-on-condoms! It's exactly what it sounds like! And it's nearly impossible to quit! So long cigarettes, hello COSASTOC!!!

Oh, and will somebody please remind Devon to put the Black Label in the refrigerator and the fruit in the microwave? Thanks.

Good Luck,
Anonymous