Friday, December 21, 2007

495--Antonio Pierce

One of the good things about rooting for the Giants is watching the performance of their star linebacker Antonio Pierce. One of the small rituals I hew to is: whenever AP makes a sack, I like to shout out "Pierce the Perimeter!" Likewise, when Gibril Wilson makes a good play, I like to shout "Giblet!" (as in the gravy they serve at Thxgvng).

This would be my man Antonio returning what I assume to be an interception. I love how somebody writes across the face of the picture "Not for public use". One wonders what it's doing on the web if not for that. Or is that just the cynic in me talking?
Hey!!! HEY!!! People steal my images for editorial use all the time. You hear me bitching? You see me writing "Not for public use" across the face of the painting (although as ideas go, that one is not half bad)?
And besides, who really gives a shit about the Giants when the purpose of this blog is, at least on one level, the celebration of yours truly. The greatest artist of our time. The portraitist of the financial elite. Fathead Minnow. Geoffrey Raymond. Moi!

All by way of saying that if you Google Erin Burnett, Maria Bartiromo or Lloyd Blankfein, then click "images", you will have the pleasure of seeing one of my paintings on page 2.

Shit--I thought Page Six was exciting. Now I'm on page two.

Further, although I'm not one to toot my own horn, google my boy Dick Grasso and you get two--count 'em, two--images on Page One!!!!! And a third on the second, if you get my drift.

And, one might ask, what the hell is my drift? At least as far as this post is concerned. Well, the point of the whole thing is that I am preparing to Pierce the Perimeter one more time. This time, I will--I promise you--beat my way into Goldman Sachs.
How you ask? With "Big Lloyd II (Now More Than Ever!)"--my obscured box celebration of GS honcho Lloyd B. and his astute stewardship of his company through the sub-prime shitstorm.
(Surely one of these guys {I use the term here in a non-gender-specific manner} could surely squeeze out about six grand for an homage to the big chief.)
All of which makes me think of Lloyd B. Free:

World, to you.


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