And I cannot stress this enough: bury their bones in an unmarked ditch.
Those are original Warhol boxes. Two Brillos, a Motts and a Campbells tomato soup. Multiple millions worth of original art, set on the floor by the front door.
Theres a regular customer whom i do plumbing work for, for the last 3 or 4 years. These belong to her. She also has Cherub Riding a Stag, and a couple other Warhols that i cannot identify, along with other originals by other artists that i also cannot identify. I have to go back to her house this coming Monday, i might get photos of the rest of her art, just so i can figure out what it is.
Even though i dont have an artistic bone in my entire body, i can appreciate art. I have negative feelings on private art like this that im too dumb to elucidate on.
eat the fucking rich. they are good for nothing.
Starbucks provided venues for beat poetry groups, especially early on. Also unsure about whether the Starbucks empire was a net gain there.
More directly to the point, Wal-Mart has had a long tradition of letting people park and sleep in their parking lots. Squatters of a similar feather.
These are both absurd comparisons and you should know it.
I picked some glaringly distinct ones on purpose, showing the outer margins of bad movements nonetheless providing some benefit in a “trickle down” fashion in their wake.
They’re both corporations and corporations aren’t people.