Made me think of the cafe in Dark City. Food for a dystopian future.
Love.
Anarchist kitteh.
Antique sugar chips.
The hound who stole our sandwiches during an illicit stoner session in Vondelpark.
I fell in love with this gaggle of queer little people we spotted in a art gallery window display. Short, fat, semi naked, ripe and juicy coloured, half-formed indeterminate genitalia, rouged lips, a sense of mischief and collective purpose and action about them. Gobble gobble.
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