I stand as a wry, debauched and dastardly, eloquent wordsmith, a vaudevillian surrealist, an aberrant scribbler.
Consumed by agony, horrors, salaciousness and deleterious delights. I remain submerged in bile; their bile, your bile, my bile; the bile of the world. I drown in the inane cesspit that is earth, scarred by what I’ve seen.
With my work I embalm the corpse of life and dissect it for all to digest. Slick with agony and self-loathing my work stands as a display of the world and the pain that pervades through every corner of the world and existence. With my work there is no escaping the heinous reality that consumes us all.