10 Responses to Art Du Jour

1. Tex says:

   September 18, 2014 at 3:03 am

   This is wonderful beyond words

   LikeLiked by 1 person

   Reply
2. slumlord says:

   September 18, 2014 at 4:08 am

   It speaks to me in a way that modern art doesn’t.

   LikeLiked by 2 people

   Reply
3. peterike2 says:

   September 18, 2014 at 9:16 am

   Sort of OT, but just because…. wow.

   http://nypost.com/2014/09/16/audrey-hepburns-granddaughter-is-poised-to-take-the-fashion-world-by-storm/

   LikeLiked by 1 person

   Reply
4. Sir Barken Hyena says:

   September 18, 2014 at 3:33 pm

   Whatever it is that you need, she has it in spades

   LikeLiked by 1 person

   Reply
5. Marc Pisco says:

   September 18, 2014 at 8:20 pm

   So a whore from the 50s has more style and grace than 99% of respectable women now.

   Thanks for reminding me.

   LikeLiked by 1 person

   Reply
   • Marc Pisco says:

     September 18, 2014 at 8:22 pm

     …and the drunken sailors had more dignity and good sense than 99% of modern statesmen and captains of industry.

     LikeLiked by 1 person

     Reply
     • Toddy Cat says:

       September 19, 2014 at 9:53 am

       I think that about sums it up…

       LikeLike
   • Blowhard, Esq. says:

     September 18, 2014 at 9:01 pm

     LOL, crazy world we live in, isn’t it?

     LikeLike

     Reply
   • Will S. says:

     September 22, 2014 at 2:04 am

     Indeed.

     In a community in which I used to live, the only way you could tell the regular young women, mostly university students, apart from the ho’s, walking down a particular street on a summer night, was that the regular young women had their eyes and hands glued to their iPhones, while the ho’s were trying to make eye contact; certainly, there was nothing distinguishable about their attire or deportment; they all looked pretty much the same…

     LikeLike

     Reply
     • Will S. says:

       September 22, 2014 at 2:06 am

       (I meant each regular gal’s gaze was affixed to the little black rectangle in her hands, on which she was typing furiously.)

       LikeLike