help me!

Just knowing you’re amused is thanks enough.

Why haven’t you called the FBI, you bag of dicks?

While my blogging is a tremendous gift to the world, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had yet more genius to give.  Seeking answers and guidance, I turned to my television.  So it was at 2:07 a.m., just moments after the central conflict in Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper was revealed, I saw an ad for the Art Instruction Schools.  It told me I was only one haphazard scribble away from a $250K scholarship to the most elite institutions of doodling in America.  I quickly ordered my free art test and prepared the application below.

You must be exhausted plowing through interminable applications, each less inspired than the last. I’m guessing this is what your average application looks like:

Now that I’m applying to your institute those days are behind you.  Prepare to get kicked right in your art-balls.

I call it “Dogbear the Pirate”, a perfect hybrid of all three samples above.  You see, unlike the applicants that obediently draw exactly what you’ve specified (i.e. morons), I have seen through your ruse.  Great art doesn’t follow rules. And I’m not even done shitting on your guidelines yet!

I could probably stop here, having already aced your first test, but I’m planning on winning at least 8 scholarships.  Here’s a piece I’ve entitled “Graaaaarrgh”:

As you can see, I’m not afraid to get political and edgy with my work.  I say to hell with anti-war sentiments and arbiters of when dinosaurs supposedly did and did not exist.  Of course, not everything I produce is confrontational.  Sometimes I opt for subversiveness and toying with the medium, as shown with my attached flip-book titled “Just A Guy Waving And Nothing Else”:

Hell, in some cases, I simply abandon the medium altogether and make the canvas the art:

By now you’ve hopefully ascertained my art cannot be contained in traditional bounds, doesn’t shy from controversy, and reflects an exquisite mastery of composition and form.  If not, I’ve crammed all of that into one oil painting I have entitled “Subtlety”:

This work is based around the grandest tenet of high art – it should be terribly offensive to Christians.  Piss Christ sets the bar pretty high, so I really had to step it up.  I figure if the sign of the beast and morning after pill don’t clinch it, the Jonas Brothers cleavage tattoo will lock it up.  The Hitler mustache and burning crosses were just a little offensiveness gravy ladeled over the top for good measure.

Gentlemen and lesbians, thank you for your time.  I look forward to the mere formality of my schooling so that I can join your panel of highly skilled dream crushers.  As a final offering, I have provided a self-portrait for your enjoyment.

Ian Cheesman is eagerly awaiting the Art Institute’s reply.  The rest of my gallery can be found at internetsensation.com.

Hey, Bruckheimer – If this doesn’t end up in your next movie we’re not talking anymore

Despite what the harmony-loving peaceniks might say, guns are likewise an ideal companion to just about everything.  Just look at Bruce Willis.  Take an actor with a receding hairline and limited prospects from the cheesy romantic dramedy Moonlighting, add a gun and suddenly you’ve got John Motherfucking McClane.

The Willis Theorem

Still not convinced?  Allow me to demonstrate how guns, mankind’s deadliest penis extension, have an uncanny way of making everything better.

How To Measure Lethality

While this has zero utility as a gun, there is no disputing that this ruler may well be powerful enough to make math cool in way it hasn’t been since Pythagoras was on the scene.

“Life ain’t nuthin but hypotenuses and money”

I suppose it could be used for stabbing in a pinch.  Wait, hold this blog for a moment…I think I may have just revolutionized modern warfare…

Point And Click (Sans Fatality)

As novel and practical as this might be in the field, the risk of carrying a camera that could be mistaken for a gun is probably too great a risk for most.  On the other hand, cameras are notoriously flimsy for pistol whipping people who jump into frame uninvited.  I’m torn.

N.R.A. Approved Golfing

Usually when golfers shout “Fore!” it’s to signal “Watch your head!” rather than “BOOM! HEADSHOT!”.  Though these appear to be the brainchild of engineers working for Jackass, Inc. these are legitimately designed for golfers who lack the physical capacity to play traditionally.  Still, I question how long could any warm-blooded man geared with one could resist an impromptu round of skeet golfing.

Bad Pun About High Caliber Art Goes Here

Art should transcend rational thought and mingle with viewers’ souls.  Gun art takes things one step further by making all viewers consider that their souls might be hastily dispatched to the afterlife if someone bumps the installation.  This piece is like a portal directly into my nightmares, apart from the fact that this arachnid made of guns isn’t telling everyone I still pee the bed.

Which Is Docking Which?

For only $12 in app store cash, an iPod touch, some superglue and an acute psychotic break you too can become an assassin (bell tower or book repository not included).  The application calculates how to adjust for environmental factors that may affect your accuracy, but cannot stop the demons in your head goading you.

Even if this doesn’t look all that sophisticated, consider what the previous generation was like:

“Every time I miss a headshot on that dictator my goddamn music skips!”

Ian Cheesman would like to thank gizmodo.com for making research of insanity so simple.  I like them so much I’m not even going to link to internetsensation.com this week.  Ooops.

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