While I was waiting for the padhole to finish taking his shitty photos, I sat there staring at this picture on my camera, trying to see what made it "mine." It looked like every other picture of Van Gogh's self-portrait I'd ever seen.
I kept staring at "my" picture, looking for some glimmer of justification for its existence,
I thought that maybe I could show this to my friends as proof that I'd seen the portrait with my own eyes. But I'm not in this picture, so there's no proof I was ever there.
Even if I was in the picture, it could have been photoshopped. And why would I need to prove it to anyone anyway? Then I realized that if my friends were going to be that skeptical, and distrusting of me, then maybe
they shouldn't be my friends.
The whole event made me question who my friends were, why I was taking pictures in museums, and whether or not I could even justify the existence of the photos I was taking. All while that bald, incognizant asshole kept snapping away
on his stupid fucking tablet. I started sweating and got diarrhea.
So I no longer take pictures in museums, with the exception of the following:
1. Genitals
![]() I don't discriminate against bent wieners (hard to tell, pic on the left). |
2. Cool shit
![]() From left to right: snake biting a titty, surprise head prank, stone cold tits, decapitation, and Kronos eating a child. |
3. Babies getting stabbed.
![]() Babies getting stabbed seemed to be a recurring theme in the Renaissance. Yeah, the bottom-right one isn't a baby, but I felt like this was the most appropriate place to put him, as clearly I'm concerned with propriety. |


445,150 people were annoyed twice by padholes taking photos: once while they took the photos, and once after they posted them on social networks.