My Depressed Artist

My Depressed Artist desperately wanted a rubber johnny that they would sometimes put up their bum. This seems a fairly weird approach to life, to my grandma, but not to the Artist, who assumed that this idea was stunning. You wouldnt have thought, a rubber johnny would be the thing that was opted for.

My Depressed Artist needed a lava lamp that they would often embrace. This seems a fairly funny operation, to me, my mum and my dad, but not to the Artist, who expected that it was in fact, epic. Remarkably, a lava lamp would be the thing that was chosen.

My Depressed Artist found a stretchman that they would put down their trousers. It was considered to be a bizarre idea, to me and my parents, but not to the Artist, who thought that this idea was awe-inspring. Strangely, a stretchman would be the item that was chosen.

My Depressed Artist desperately needed a stretchman that they sometimes embrace. This could be considered a fairly different thing to do, to my grandpa, but not to the Artist, who feels that it was in fact, magnificent. Remarkably, a stretchman was the chosen item.

My Depressed Artist desperately needed a bottle of beer that they would occasionally smash. It is considered to be a fairly astonishing thought, to my dad, but not to the Artist, who thought that this idea was awe-inspring. A bottle of beer is the item to choose.

My Depressed Artist wanted a toilet brush that they would often watch for 10 minutes every morning. This seems to be a bizarre undertaking, to me and my children, but not to the Artist, who feels that the idea was miraculous. Bizarrely, a toilet brush was the item that was selected.