Brother and Sister-in-Law on the Dead (BotD and SiLotD) live in Brooklyn. It’s not their fault; they both majored in Gentrification in college, so this was the only work they could get. On weekends, they do very authentic things, and this past Sunday, they wandered into the Starhawk Design Studio in Greenpoint, which by all accounts flashes in and out of reality at different locations on a regular basis.
(Anyone who has ever read a book or watched a movie should know better than to trust the mysterious shop that you could swear wasn’t there last time you checked, but looks like it’s been there forever. The proprietor is secretly God or the Devil, or all the stock is cursed, or you’re going to leave the store to find you’re in 1944 and you’ve got to save your grandpa’s life so he can come back home and fuck your grandma. Do not go in the mysterious shop that you could swear wasn’t there last time.)
Mainly, this post is a pre-confession. BotD made a joke about getting me one of these rainbow abortions for Christmas, so if he winds up dead on the 25th, then what happened was he actually bought me one, and then I murdered him with a spatula. I truly believe that my skin would start burning if I put one of these on, especially the chimera that is not a Dancing Bear in the upper right.
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