Do you know what the term “conceptual artist” means? It means “someone that pisses in jars and is called a genius.”
Meet Cherry Tree. Cherry Tree is a conceptual artist. What makes her so conceptual is that she pisses in bottles and calls it perfume. I really hope there aren’t people out there call her a genius, because that would imply that my grandfather was simply exhibiting genus-like qualities when he had dementia and was pissing in his expensive wine glasses.
Clearly, there’s a large discontent between hardcore artists and (and I hate to use this term) “regular people.” When a regular person sees urine, we get away from it. When an artist sees urine, they flock to it like it was liquid gold. Cherry Tree is a pee-flocker, which means her thought process is a little…off, at least compared to the rest of us that don’t drizzle ourselves in our own bladder juice.
Right off the bat, just from hearing the basic premise of someone using their pee as perfume, you know that person is a wee bit wacky. But then, in this AOL News story, Cherry Tree gave a quote that really set it off. She spoke a glorious sentence that, with every subsequent word, becomes increasingly more ludicrous, which is really saying something, seeing as the first words are absurd.
“It was the first morning after a full moon,” she said. “And I decided to collect my urine in a perfume bottle.”
Obviously, this is just text, so I can’t get a grasp of her inflection, but I’m willing to bet every syllable she spoke was slathered in a confidence so powerful that she could, without flinching, look a reporter in the eyes and imply that there is a chance that one of the phases of the moon may have compelled her to piss in a bottle and call it perfume. The beauty of this level of crazy is that the first half of the sentence is a perfect set up for pleading insanity in a murder trial. If you just said, “I decided to collect my urine in a perfume bottle” people would think you’re charmingly crazy; just average crazy. But if you imply that a thing from space made you do it, well, then, clearly you’re too crazy to be held accountable for your actions.
You can place “It was the first morning after a full moon,” in front of such thoughts as…
“…and I felt that I needed people’s shoelaces to see the obscene gestures I can make with my hands.”
“…so I gave my cats a break and finally allowed them to help me make dirty bombs.”
“…so I snorted ham.”
Cherry Tree went on to say she originally had hoped to collect her urine after every full moon, presumably to make sure the supernatural effects of the full moon didn’t turn it in to the dreaded and feared Pisswolf.
Cherry Tree became fascinated by how each batch of urine would smell differently depending on what she had eaten.
“For instance, it smells really good after you eat a lot of honey and it smells terrible after eating chicken.”
I used to work in an office building that was surrounded by homeless people. I’m certain at least a couple of them had eaten something sweet and something savory before they pissed themselves, and, I gotta say, piss smells like piss. Sometimes it’s less pissy, and occasionally it can smell like oranges if you’re peeing near a plug-in air freshener, but there’s no such thing as what Cherry Tree described when she described the smell after drinking a lot of coffee: “It was very chocolatey.”
No, Cherry Tree; it wasn’t. You probably have Maple syrup urine disease, which is a real disease that makes your urine smell sweet. Lady, your bladder is dying in side of you.
I understand that some great times can be had with excrement. Poo, pee and fart jokes make up 98% of any given comedy blogger’s arsenal of jokes. But when I eat cotton candy and my poo looks like a festival of pastel-colored clowns got kicked out of my colon for being drunk and disorderly, I don’t claim it to be a fun, self-sustaining alternative to lipstick.