L is for Love, baby. O is for Only you that I do. V is for loving Virtually all that you are and E is for loving almost Everything you do. R is for…*cough* Ahem…why hello there, my sugary Filthy Dreams sweethearts! What’s that? Oh, I’m just singing Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ maniacal … Continue reading
Why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams munchers, nibblers, grazers, finicky pickers, and gobblers! It’s that time of year again–tell the world…let them know…it’s HALLOWREEN! No wait…sorry….THANKSGIVING!! Yes, that’s right. I just got confused because I’ve been guzzling our World Famous Pumpkin Punch ever since the leaves began to turn. And as I’m sure you know, … Continue reading
I love museum gift shops. I know, I know–this isn’t too much of a surprise after I’ve continually admitted my undying love of the worst of late capitalism, including yes, corporate Pride. But unlike that rainbow colored free-for-all, which comes around only one month a year to tickle my frantic shopping spree fancy, museum gift … Continue reading
Recently with our constant free-flowing shit show in American politics, I find myself thinking with surprising frequency: Fuck that shit, I’m going to space. Taken from a prevalent meme featuring a shark flying through the star-lined galaxy, my intergalactic daydreams of escape, star cruising into space never to look back, now have an articulated vision. … Continue reading
Why hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! I didn’t hear you come in over my manic mixing of gelatin and mayonnaise. Come, grab yourself a glass or three of peppermint martinis. Sure, they taste like regret, but what worthwhile doesn’t, Mary. Even though we recently published our suggestions for terrifying vintage foods for your Thanksgiving, … Continue reading
I’m not used to suffering from invasive flashbacks inside a major museum. But, pulling back the heavy curtain, leading into Kenny Scharf’s Cosmic Closet, a cozy yet mind-altering intergalactic Day-Glo-painted trash utopia, I was immediately sent through a time warp to June 2011, boogying to The B-52s “Planet Claire” and Martha and the Vandellas “Jimmy … Continue reading
“Taste is style, and to know bad taste, of course, you have to have been taught the rules of the tyranny of good taste so you can yearn to break them,” says our preeminent filth elder John Waters. John knows a thing or two about good taste, but then so do we. By we, I … Continue reading
What is so bad about kitsch? Well, other than bad taste of course. Kitsch–the label for all things gaudy, glittering and garish made for those who were born to be cheap–seems to be one descriptor that not even those devoted denizens of camp will proudly and loudly declare. But, who doesn’t love a touch of … Continue reading