Fornicate Under Consent of the King you.
I am not a happy camper.
Some guy had called the Gallery over night and left a message asking about art classes. Tacked onto the end of this message was a recommendation that we redo our automated telephone greeting because it sounds too - "Hmm, how would I put it?" amatuerish. "I only make this suggestion because it's what my wife and I do professionally. Heh heh, not to be critical or anything, just a suggestion."
Who the fuck are you? Maybe you should keep your fucking opinions to yourself. Not to be critical though.
Fucking pissants.
posted by Phinneas Q Jacksmith @ 3:52 p.m.
2 comments
2 Comments:
I think criticism itself is a wonderful, valid and completely necessary art when it is practiced in a manner that is thoughtful, or probing, or enlightening, or entertaining, or wickedly funny, or all of these things at once.
That said, my first notice as self-appointed critic is as follows:
What a fuckface.
He might as well complain about McDonalds not having a house wine.
Well, he's the joke because he does it professionally!
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