No, really, it’s art, not perversion.

This week a coworker asked if I would go with her to the warehouse to pick up a print she was having framed in the graphics shop.

“Why do you need me?”

“Because the guy back there is creepy.”

“Serial killer creepy or harmless creepy?”

“Creepy like someone who says he takes nude pictures of himself in poses that look like he’s climbing, then superimposes them onto photographs of trees and wants to know if I want to see them. THAT kind of creepy.”

Yeah, I know, I know, I need to get my hands on one so I can post it but I don’t want to end up bound and gagged in his basement studio.