draft/preview of forthcoming Drug-Related Photoshop Art ”piece”
![*CORRECTED VERSION* This is an update of this, made after reading Fat Mike’s Tweet. *CORRECTED VERSION*
Fat Mike clutching a plastic baggie of Hydrocodone while on a medium-large* dose of them (with varying amounts of Ritalin, Valium, Cocaine, Adderall, Demerol, OxyContin, LSD, Klonopin also in his system) at a My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done post-premier get-together staring at [what seems to be ‘nothing’] in extreme concentration as he struggles to discern if it’s appropriate to ask the people here if they want to share his remaining Hydrocodone while also trying to remember why he’s in this house with these people and if it’s possible he has actually “broken into” a stranger’s home or somehow otherwise forced himself onto these people (Chloe Sevigny, Michael Shannon, Willem Dafoe), of whom he only recognizes the villain from Spider-Man, while Werner Herzog, in what has consistently been his favorite part of the standard tour he gives of his house, “riffs on” the painting—sent to him by a fan last year, to Herzog’s delight—on his wall by saying it’s his “prepared submission” to a guest-contributor’s edition of Where’s Waldo that he’s certain he’ll be receiving a call any day now for his contribution toward, at which point he’ll want to be ready, as “one doesn’t get these oppor-opportunities often,” Herzog says, stuttering when he’s momentarily “taken aback” by the presence of the husband from Antichrist, before recovering calmly and without further pause, aware that the stutter has likely been interpreted, naturally, as evidence that there’s an opportunity he missed in the past that strongly affects him today.
*relative to Fat Mike’s past usage](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmfyoufVja1qzo3vco1_500.png)
*CORRECTED VERSION* This is an update of this, made after reading Fat Mike’s Tweet. *CORRECTED VERSION*
Fat Mike clutching a plastic baggie of Hydrocodone while on a medium-large* dose of them (with varying amounts of Ritalin, Valium, Cocaine, Adderall, Demerol, OxyContin, LSD, Klonopin also in his system) at a My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done post-premier get-together staring at [what seems to be ‘nothing’] in extreme concentration as he struggles to discern if it’s appropriate to ask the people here if they want to share his remaining Hydrocodone while also trying to remember why he’s in this house with these people and if it’s possible he has actually “broken into” a stranger’s home or somehow otherwise forced himself onto these people (Chloe Sevigny, Michael Shannon, Willem Dafoe), of whom he only recognizes the villain from Spider-Man, while Werner Herzog, in what has consistently been his favorite part of the standard tour he gives of his house, “riffs on” the painting—sent to him by a fan last year, to Herzog’s delight—on his wall by saying it’s his “prepared submission” to a guest-contributor’s edition of Where’s Waldo that he’s certain he’ll be receiving a call any day now for his contribution toward, at which point he’ll want to be ready, as “one doesn’t get these oppor-opportunities often,” Herzog says, stuttering when he’s momentarily “taken aback” by the presence of the husband from Antichrist, before recovering calmly and without further pause, aware that the stutter has likely been interpreted, naturally, as evidence that there’s an opportunity he missed in the past that strongly affects him today.
*relative to Fat Mike’s past usage
![vicemag:
Fat Mike clutching a plastic baggie of mushrooms while on a medium-large* dose of them (with varying amounts of Codeine, Ritalin, Valium, Hydrocodone, Cocaine, Heroin, Adderall, Demerol, OxyContin, LSD, Klonopin also in his system) at a My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done post-premier get-together staring at [what seems to be ‘nothing’] in extreme concentration as he struggles to discern if it’s appropriate to ask the people here if they want to share his remaining mushrooms while also trying to remember why he’s in this house with these people and if it’s possible he has actually “broken into” a stranger’s home or somehow otherwise forced himself onto these people (Chloe Sevigny, Michael Shannon, Willem Dafoe), of whom he only recognizes the villain from Spider-Man, while Werner Herzog, in what has consistently been his favorite part of the standard tour he gives of his house, “riffs on” the painting—sent to him by a fan last year, to Herzog’s delight—on his wall by saying it’s his “prepared submission” to a guest-contributor’s edition of Where’s Waldo that he’s certain he’ll be receiving a call any day now for his contribution toward, at which point he’ll want to be ready, as “one doesn’t get these oppor-opportunities often,” Herzog says, stuttering when he’s momentarily “taken aback” by the presence of the husband from Antichrist, before recovering calmly and without further pause, aware that the stutter has likely been interpreted, naturally, as evidence that there’s an opportunity he missed in the past that strongly affects him today.
*relative to Fat Mike’s past usage
Read the rest at Vice Magazine: DRUG-RELATED PHOTOSHOP ART - FAT MIKE IN WERNER HERZOG’S HOUSE - Viceland Today](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmfnyzGile1qzikspo1_500.png)
Fat Mike clutching a plastic baggie of mushrooms while on a medium-large* dose of them (with varying amounts of Codeine, Ritalin, Valium, Hydrocodone, Cocaine, Heroin, Adderall, Demerol, OxyContin, LSD, Klonopin also in his system) at a My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done post-premier get-together staring at [what seems to be ‘nothing’] in extreme concentration as he struggles to discern if it’s appropriate to ask the people here if they want to share his remaining mushrooms while also trying to remember why he’s in this house with these people and if it’s possible he has actually “broken into” a stranger’s home or somehow otherwise forced himself onto these people (Chloe Sevigny, Michael Shannon, Willem Dafoe), of whom he only recognizes the villain from Spider-Man, while Werner Herzog, in what has consistently been his favorite part of the standard tour he gives of his house, “riffs on” the painting—sent to him by a fan last year, to Herzog’s delight—on his wall by saying it’s his “prepared submission” to a guest-contributor’s edition of Where’s Waldo that he’s certain he’ll be receiving a call any day now for his contribution toward, at which point he’ll want to be ready, as “one doesn’t get these oppor-opportunities often,” Herzog says, stuttering when he’s momentarily “taken aback” by the presence of the husband from Antichrist, before recovering calmly and without further pause, aware that the stutter has likely been interpreted, naturally, as evidence that there’s an opportunity he missed in the past that strongly affects him today.
*relative to Fat Mike’s past usage
Read the rest at Vice Magazine: DRUG-RELATED PHOTOSHOP ART - FAT MIKE IN WERNER HERZOG’S HOUSE - Viceland Today
![vicemag:
Justin Bieber—in an alternate reality where YouTube doesn’t exist and he lives in a near-rural suburb outside Central Florida and has since 3rd grade been the area’s iconic target of homophobia and where ~40% of his musical talents have manifested instead as social anxiety disorder and irritable bowel syndrome, leaving him, at 15, completely friendless and increasingly baffled at why he exists though somehow still determined to create music videos—staring at his older brother who is supposed to be filming him (this only after 3 weeks of ‘begging,’ pretty much, and then the compromise that he wear a shirt that says either “heroin” or “LSD” for the duration of filming in addition to paying his older brother $75 for the 15-minute drive to-and-from the park and the 5 minutes of footage which Justin Bieber hopes to incorporate into his future music videos so that at least some parts won’t seem obviously self-shot) but is instead idly rereading old text messages from his drug dealer, and doing other things that are not filming, which Justin Bieber senses after ~40 seconds (partly because of his older brother’s strangely focused expression but mostly because the iPhone has been egregiously facing an area almost a full 90 degrees to Justin Bieber’s left) and which, finally, Justin Bieber is going to remain silent about, for the first time, as he commits, now, to a life in which he does everything himself, trusts no one in anything, and suppresses—privately redirects—all his disappointments and complaints and confusions into [he isn’t certain what yet but thinks it might not be music videos, might not even be anything artistic, but might be something like carpentry or mountain climbing or probably the breeding and caring for of small pets like tropical fish or ants].
DRUG-RELATED PHOTOSHOP ART - JUSTIN BIEBER LSD - Viceland Today](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lm2jhvIlES1qzikspo1_500.png)
Justin Bieber—in an alternate reality where YouTube doesn’t exist and he lives in a near-rural suburb outside Central Florida and has since 3rd grade been the area’s iconic target of homophobia and where ~40% of his musical talents have manifested instead as social anxiety disorder and irritable bowel syndrome, leaving him, at 15, completely friendless and increasingly baffled at why he exists though somehow still determined to create music videos—staring at his older brother who is supposed to be filming him (this only after 3 weeks of ‘begging,’ pretty much, and then the compromise that he wear a shirt that says either “heroin” or “LSD” for the duration of filming in addition to paying his older brother $75 for the 15-minute drive to-and-from the park and the 5 minutes of footage which Justin Bieber hopes to incorporate into his future music videos so that at least some parts won’t seem obviously self-shot) but is instead idly rereading old text messages from his drug dealer, and doing other things that are not filming, which Justin Bieber senses after ~40 seconds (partly because of his older brother’s strangely focused expression but mostly because the iPhone has been egregiously facing an area almost a full 90 degrees to Justin Bieber’s left) and which, finally, Justin Bieber is going to remain silent about, for the first time, as he commits, now, to a life in which he does everything himself, trusts no one in anything, and suppresses—privately redirects—all his disappointments and complaints and confusions into [he isn’t certain what yet but thinks it might not be music videos, might not even be anything artistic, but might be something like carpentry or mountain climbing or probably the breeding and caring for of small pets like tropical fish or ants].
DRUG-RELATED PHOTOSHOP ART - JUSTIN BIEBER LSD - Viceland Today
