I dropped by Ghettogloss on Bastille Day for a reception feting a new exhibit by graphic designers affiliated with X-Large. As usual, the Silver Lake gallery bucked the bourgeois tradition of serving red wine and cheese cubes by offering frosted cupcakes and cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon dispensed cold from a vending machine. I dug Duel's life-size poster of a swaggering ape heading to a shoot-out in a cowboy hat and spurs. I also loved chilling with Fiora and Flo, the proprietress and designer behind Ghettogloss, and gazing at the Technicolor broads who guarded the boutique adjacent to the gallery like hip fairy godmothers. The portraits reminded me of this haiku I read earlier that day. Written for hot smart chicks, the poem goes something like this:
Go to school/Go to work/Never, ever, marry a jerk.
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