Oh, Life is A Carnival, Ain't It?

Well, here we find you, comfortably nestled in your opulent throne of silk. Surrounded by the illustrious elites you hold dear, huh?

Well, hot damn, ain't that a sight for sore eyes... cross my heart and hope to die, I sincerely pray that you won't be unfortunate enough to lay eyes upon me and my degenerated crew. 'Cause, you gentlelady, I sure as hell can't stand to be caught in my own company. Lord have mercy!


Guerilla Street Art at Wanton


Hey there, kid, why don't you take me on a wild ride down the boulevard of despair? You must think you're the crowned monarch of the hidden underworld, don't ya? And to express your undying affection, how 'bout you send me some enchanted ghostly vibes every single dawn?

You can even go the extra mile and mail 'em straight to my humble abode. Oh, but wait, why not sprinkle those lifeless memories on my wedding day? It'd be an absolute hoot...


Guerilla Street Art by Wanton


And fear not, kid, for I won't let the opportunity slip by to adorn your final resting place with the sweet aroma of real life. Ain't I just a paragon of thoughtfulness?

Meanwhile, as you recline in your purple motor dust BMW, making bets with reckless abandon on an Independence Day, care to hazard a guess where you'll find me?

Why, right down there in the depths of my basement sanctuary, embracing the needle and spoon like long-lost soulmates. Ah, and in the company of yet another gentlelady... who possesses the extraordinary ability to temporarily absolve my pain.



The Street Art of Wanton GentleLady


Oh, Life is a Carnival, Ain't it?

So, come on now, kid, how 'bout you take me down a peg or two? I'm acutely aware of your conviction that you reign supreme in the clandestine realms. And to prove your eternal devotion, why not grace me with those charming sprinkles of those lifeless memories every blessed morning?

Ship 'em to my doorstep using a good ol' bicycle messenger, would ya? Oh, and how about we commemorate my wedding day with a delightful bouquet of withered and soulless memories? Fret not, my love, for I shall not neglect the opportunity to embellish your eternal resting place with my style of art.

I solemnly swear, upon the depths of my twisted heart, that I shall never let your memory fade away. I shall take it upon myself, with utmost determination, to festoon your grave with the most exquisite love of art that ever graced this Earth.

It's the least I can do to pay my respects, you see. So, rest in peace, my dearest gentlelady, as I bestow upon your eternal slumber the touch of artistic magnificence it so richly deserves.


Wanton StreetWear

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