Insane Logic

***NOTICE OF TRAVEL TO PHOTOGRAPHERS***

It’s summer, and high time to get the fuck out of NYC!  The illustrious Tullee and I are taking our naked selves on the road on the following dates:

Miami, FL (June 1 - 5)

New Orleans, LA (June 6 - 12)

Austin, TX (June 13 - 19)

Albuquerque, NM (20 - 26)

This working vacation is sure to be a bizarre adventure, and if any of our followers live near our destinations, now is the time to contact us about working together.  

Further, it is with a heavy heart that I say we shall not be returning to fair lady New York for some time.  We are relocating to San Francisco in the late summer and will be stationed there for at least the next year.  Great news for west coasters who would like us to get naked for their camera, but a bittersweet parting from the city that we’ve called home for so long.

Our thanks to the hundreds of fabulous artists who we’ve had the pleasure of creating images with over the past year.  You are all wonderfully bent geniuses, and we will always remember you.  Fear not, for we shall return, but for now the road and the significant lack of a cold winter on the west coast is beckoning.  

Peace, Love, and Anarchy,

Andre and Tullee

Behold the Crown

And Burn it down

To reveal the Clown

As he is.

The Hollywood sham

Is all part of the Scam;

A world made of glam

And cheap Jizz

We’re all just Star Fuckers,

The fame Whore cum suckers.

We’ll screw some jailbait,

Drop trow and masturbate

All for the fix.

We’ll suck all the dicks

That it takes to make it,

And until then we’ll fake it.

We are scum filled pigs

With egos too big

To sustain their own weight,

As we’re bursting with hate.

And One day we’ll explode,

When we’re shooting our load

On the last porno queen we can take.

See, we came to this town

To turn our lives around

And all that we wrought has been fake.

The solution is lead.

A quick kiss to the head.

It’s time, Jack,

Put the lies to bed.

Our plastic dreams all turned up dead.

Pagan Symbols in

The bathroom linoleum

I spy a cult meeting

In the closet.

All Hail Steve!

This glass prism

Is a Prison.

A vibratory vortex ensues.

To the Toy Store!

This child in my arms,

From whence did it come?

Did this nurse hand it

To me?

Is it mine?

We descend then

Into Wonka’s private Hell.

An Oompa Loompa

Fuck Dungeon with

Strobe Lights.

Escape!

Topside and the plastic snow

Dances for us.

Gorgeous,

Sexy,

But short lived.

The Train arrives

Segment by Segment

Splintered factions

Of same machine.

My saucers bulge

As the Pig fingers his

Gun,

His twisted, toothy grin

Daring me to make a

Move.

Do I dare challenge

Trigger-happy Bacon?

Turn the page and

See.