Why My Parents Should Pay My Rent Forever
Gushing forth gratitude with regard to your generous cash advance toward the purchase of my new Macbook Air computational device.
I’m proud to say that, among my other frog-eyed, Neo-Bohéme associates here at NYU, you are considered a true pioneer in a new era of art patronage, and that we share a dream of a golden age when ALL mothers will follow your example.
– And that’s not just the MDMA talking.
This morning on the roof of the Jane Hotel, in between sips of Organic Cucumber Gimlets, the girls and I began to outline the principles of what we call Micro-Feudalism; A system wherein EVERY AMERICAN HOUSEHOLD operates like a mini Medieval Kingdom. Each family would select one young member who shows GREAT PROMISE in the ARTS (hello?), then provide for his/her EVERY expense… forever.
We are certain that ONLY WHEN the pressures of daily life are lifted FOREVER can an artist truly commit to pushing boundaries and achieving his/her REAL potential.
Last week, Dakota and I met with Father on his boat in Nantucket. The moment dinner was served he started rambling on about how we need to “put down the hash pipe,” “get our hands dirty” and learn first-hand the “honor” and “credibility” we could gain by truly “struggling” as artists.
I was MORTIFIED. I mean, in front of Dakota? Also, what’s so “honorable” about me stressing the fuck out about money?
When he told us to consider moving from the West Village to somewhere “ethnic” I spit up my prawn and nearly had an episode.
I informed him that in the Renaissance, artists’ struggles were philosophical, interpersonal, and intellectual; NOT financial. Why doesn’t he GET IT the way you do? How many times can I explain? The strain of somehow MAGICALLY paying for my own wine, sushi, and in-season designer clothing would be TOXIC to my creativity. TOXIC!
Anyway, back to Micro-Feudalism, the investment is sound because, in theory, the spectacular ART and BEAUTY created would surely benefit society in ways far exceeding the modest (say, $20,000?) monthly allowance. Although I’m sure the paralyzing JOY and PRIDE experienced by you and other POAs (parents of artists), is reward enough.
Ergo, THANK YOU AGAIN for having the foresight and vision to lead us all into the vanguard. Your name, NOT DAD’S, will surely be recognized among the trailblazers in this EXCITING new area of art cultivation!
Oh, attached is my Bergdorf’s wish list and pics from Burning Man. Happy Fall.
Your loving spawn (not by choice),
A | A | A
If this doesn’t become the biggest video on the Internet, then I have no faith left in humanity.
I’m about to finish up my sophomore fall of college, and friends from home are getting married and having babies and sufficiently freaking me out.
He was a perfect date. I later got drunk and hacked his phone (who uses their birth year for a password? It was 1986, by the way #teamcougar). What I found was a text to a Kristina explaining his aforementioned sex dream he’d had about her while sleeping next to me in a luxurious hotel bed.
Single people love to whine about being single.