The Mystery Deepens

Holy shit, it’s real. It’s an ex-wife/sister team-up. And yet I have still more questions:

• Does the Garcia Weir Gallery actually exist?
• What I’m saying is: can I go there?
• Is there a physical location?
• Does the Garcia Weir Gallery employ skinny women and/or vicious homosexuals?
• What about the lighting?
• Is it chic?
• How chic?
• Stoli, darling?
• Is the Garcia Weir Gallery in danger of being purchased by a cruel businessman?
• Does a show need to be put on to save the Garcia Weir Gallery?
• Should I call Ice-T and Shabba-Doo?
• Does someone have Shabba-Doo’s phone number?
• Or the number of Shabba-Doo’s people?
• Does Shabba-Doo still have people?
• Are you just repeating “Shabba-Doo” over and over because it makes you giggle?
• You couldn’t tell?
• Why are you like this?
• WHY WON’T YOU FUCK OFF?
• Say good night, okay?
• Good night, okay?

WAIT. I have one last question:

• Did the Garcia Weir Gallery intend to steal Whattaburger’s “W” for their icon, or is it an accident?