Graffiti in Canada: Vancouver, Toronto, Edmonton and Venice Beach! Kiss your Church and Roll your Eyes!

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More than Money Can Buy.

Sex speaks for itself. No need for a woman with a head, just an ass will do. This reflects severly on both the mentality of Men (or lack thereof), and the agenda of Women (or their pimps). Take your choice, either way we all lose.

Venice Beach carries on where we left off. Let's talk "murals".

Murals are more an art-form than a menace, and they're plentiful at Venice. "R. Cronk" is the most famous muralist in these hallowed parts. His work is whimsical, light, and like many wall-painters, he loves the color blue. But don't we all? Is that not the Soul of California, the color blue?

I would trade a million Vancouvers for one Venice Beach. A million shades of grey for one electric sky azure. Jaded and Rusty are we dogs of the North. But... Canada is Canada, and never the twain shall meet. North of 49 is an arm's length from Insanity, draped in stars and soldiers. North of 49 is a Wild Duck Refuge, free of Snipers, Swipers and Vipers. North of 49 is Simplicity in plaid, brouges in a land of Lap Dancers. North of 49 is more Beavers than you can shake a stick at, and we're keepin' it that way.

Dig?

We begin, a home away from home.

"Keepin' It True", Warren G's ShagMobile, parked outside a row of merrily tagged parking meters. They tag EVERYTHING down there, believe me. It's all "Gangsta Move" lyrics from "Snoop Dogg", they say. Google's great for finding out what inspires the hearts of modern-day mankind. Check this out: "Yeah. anotha dogg house production. my nigga meech roll it. Wussup. we movin solo for the 9-9, 9-8, ya heard me?"

Make sense to you?

The ancient Hindu Mystics say that Life is all a Dream. That we live in this Dogg House for only 3 days, then we move on. How we spend the 3 days is up to us. Life's a Beach; then you Die.

The Triad Above is tried and true. Mermaids and Meters. One steals your dime; the other steals your time. Either way you lose. But for a magnificent moment, you can dream of tattoo parlors and animal hospitals on the promenade. "Under The Boardwalk". Found Art. Life in the Urban Armpit, sans RightGuard. It's a Can of Worms, but we're goin' fishin'. Yeah?

Mural Municipalities. Here we go.

Mr R Cronk, we take this time to salute.

It's a mars bar, it's Venus on the Half-Shell. It's a teacher of rhyme and thyme. Click the Sez panoramix button for whole escape-ment. It's deluxe trailer park art at its best. We'll drop in a few of Mr Cronk's tidbits to whet the palette.

And while we're at it, Jim Morrison's Slight Return. LA Woman. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the Whe-ee-eel. Not many history lessons learned here. A statue in the night, a pig in the pen. A drunk in the tank, and a Tiger in the Mighty Jungle.

To Be Continued.

Next: the Giant Cone-Heads the keep watch over Venice Beach.

Barbie's answer to Easter island.

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