by Bobby Fisher
Go up on the roof…The Met…grab some wine…climb in. Tomas was not chuffed when he eyed rocks stuck in my soles. He said ‘it’ll scratch the sculpture’….I replied “fuck off!” Although a smaller man than I his feet are lethal. He produced a roundhouse to the side of my head with Flaminco grace and MMA ferocity. I flew off ‘Cloud City’ to the gasps of well wined art snobs. Acrobatic skills from my days as a child circus star in the deep south kicked in…dangling by my left hand I managed to snap these pics of the Argentine before I flipped myself back up kicking him square in his latin ‘child makers’. So go to the roof of the Met…liquor up, pick a fight…and enjoy the art!