Bearded dragons, Art and Cellophane

So there’s plenty of people out there who own bearded dragons. Such a dumb pet if you ask me. They chill in your house on a log. You can’t take them for walks or teach them tricks. But that’s beside the point. So you’re one of those people that want one as a pet. You go to the pet store, buy one and take it home. No questions asked. What I want to know is how these little guys came about growing such an impressive mane. Are they just regular dragons and then become bearded after they go through puberty? Do the people in the pet store trim their beards to make it bushier? And why do they call them dragons? Dragons are hardcore mythical creatures that could blow fire and ravage villages. These guys are tiny and could hardly do any damage to a Lego man. They should be called saggy chinned lizards, damn!

I’ve been thinking to myself when was the last time I heard of a truly great modern day artist? These guys should be everywhere. I mean there are so many drugs that they have access to that the old greats probably never even knew about. The modern day guys could simply lock themselves in a room with a canvas, paints, crayons, whatever they want really and then just take some acid. They would wake up a few hours later with a masterpiece and recollection of how it came to be. Although that could lead to a Vincent van Gogh incident where they wake up with all of their toes hacked off and glued to the ceiling. Who knows, it’s just a suggestion. It might work, try it. If you do, send a couple of pictures of your work to us.

I remember a few years back, going to pay my sister a visit. She lives in a complex so they’ve got one of those electric gates that you have to wait at until the security guard brings you a book to sign before he opens the gate to let you in. Before leaving home I decided to wrap myself in cellophane as a prank. Forgetting about the security guard we had to pass. So with my head wrapped in cellophane and looking like a serial killer (not what I was going for but that was the end result) I got into the car. Sitting in the passenger seat (you can’t see much when you’re looking through cellophane, let alone drive) I remembered we had to pass this security guard and started to consider removing the cellophane. Then I thought we may as well see what his reaction would be. We pulled up to the gate and he looked right at me. Instead of taking out his gun and locking his sight on me or shouting a warning to leave, he simply smiled and opened the gate. No need to sign the book, no questions asked. Needless to say we were highly amused and extremely baffled at this. Maybe so was the security guard. I would still love to know what he was thinking when he decided to let us through that day.