My wife (who just so happens to be an artist) asked me if I wanted to go to the San Francisco Museum of Modern art this weekend, and I politely declined. She said she's disappointed that I don't want to go, but I just told her that I would honestly hate it. Every time I've ever been to a museum that didn't have hands on displays or wasn't of planes or cars, I usually just look at the stuff and think to myself "Yep, that's some paint on a canvas."
I've never understood the appeal of looking at famous art. It just does absolutely nothing for me. People are always saying "Oh, you can see the hardships of life and what the artist was trying to say with this color." and I just don't see it.
I feel so uncultured.
Anyway, she rickroll'd me as punishment, so I feel like I really dodged a bullet here.
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There was a signature here. It's gone now.
Your face is bees.