Mission Mission

This week on I Heart Street Art, we look at a badass car parked in an alley. Link.

Animal has all the details of London’s new anti-graffiti ad campaign right here.

So I’m totally not posting this to glorify vandalism. I’m posting it because it was sent to me by Plug1 and I’m thrilled to see he’s embracing the lo-res! Despite his considerable talent with the hi.

He saw this Ribity at U-Haul on Valencia.

Dave, man, I knew you felt strongly about the ’90s, but you didn’t have to go and vandalize private property to prove your point.

But seriously, for this week’s I Heart Street Art, I just posted a bunch of graffiti from around the Mission that I was afraid to post here in light of the recent backlash.

Okay, kidding again. For reals though, this week’s post was written with the aid of a powerful dose of Benadryl. Holler if it sucks. Link.

Okay, so we start with the bad. It inspires more bad, and more bad. When does the next Walt Whitman get here?

Photo by reader J-Lub, who says, “Taken in the bathroom at Gestalt on Friday night (4/10/09).  Not sure how I feel about the ‘new’ astroturf walls.”

Poor Pope. And Jesus gets to be hunky.

One of the Buzz Girls wrote in to say:

pussy juice tagged the j. i thought it was a weak tag and douchey, but it did make me laugh.

Link.

At Dalva. Photography by meganallison. Click to visit photo pages.

Previously:

Some Art Student Spent Long Time Drawing Cartoon Woman in Dalva Bathroom

From Rants & Raves:

What’s up, PussyJuice? (mission district)

Let’s get something straight: I’m not writing to complain that you routinely tag my building. I’m writing to let you know how intensely lame you are. Hell, I appreciate graf-art; I have a copy of Chris Brennan’s brilliant new photo-book, and I live with two professional DJ’s, but your graf-tag is the WORST TAG EVER! Seriously, you go by the name “PussyJuice”? -And it’s totally legible? Hell, I’m gonna talk to Eric down at the Delirium and get them to step up their recognition of fake ID’s. –There’s no way PussyJuice is 21 or over.

This might be news to you, but after a full night of pounding 40’s and sniffing glue, your judgment gets impaired. Case in Point: PussyJuice = Bad Idea. I’d rather you get behind the wheel and drive your parents’ car all the way back home with the parking brake on than have you continue to write lame shit on my building. Let me ask: are you rolling alone? -Because if not, then let me tell you: those “friends” of yours are laughing AT you, PussyJuice, not with you. -Either that or they’re just as lame as you are.

Okay, maybe I’m being too hard on PussyJuice. After all, I like to support the mentally disabled. Fuck it, PussyJuice, I hope you become famous for your tags! I hope in the cannon of street-art it goes: Ron English, Shepard Fairey, and then PussyJuice! That way, I can tell people I was into PussyJuice before ANYONE. In fact, we should talk. -I have a bunch of connections and you obviously need a manager. Seriously, you’re like the Pussy that laid the golden Juice egg. –We both need to take advantage of that.

Whaddya say, PussyJuice? We got a deal? I know you don’t read Craigslist, but maybe your mom will come across this and will drive you over in the Mini-van. If the deal’s a go, just write “PussyJuice” on my door again. –That’s a written contract obligation in the graf-world, so think about it before you get shit-faced blind next weekend. I’ll iron out all the figures with your drunk lawyer later. What’s most important (now that I own the PussyJuice name), is that we nationally promote the PussyJuice franchise: t-shirts, tattoos, college-ruled notebooks, car seats for babies, Clamato endorsements, etc.

You feel me, dawg? I eagerly await your answer.

PussyJuice’s boy,
-The Colonel

PS – It’s cool if I pay you in shitty beer, right?

Link.

Photo by jc1eary.

In this week’s I Heart Street Art, we talk to street artist Caleb Neelon, who’s in town for a gallery opening on Saturday. He shares some thoughts that are somewhere between zen and totally incendiary. Link.