KINKY

The rustic cottage stood bathed in a haze of golden light.
Its residents - good peasants - all had turned in for the night.
Sitting ’round the crackling hearth, eating hearty grub,
Washing off their honest sweat in the claw-foot tub.
“Paw, why don’t ye come to bed? Ye’ve finished all your labors,
Ye’ve cut the hay, and thatched the roof, and spoke with all the neighbors.”
“Be there directly, woman, but one thing I must yet do:
I’ve got to whip my pecker out, and urinate on Pooh.”

When people - people less cynical than I - think of Thomas Kinkade, they think of paintings of thatch-roof huts, illuminated from within by the warm glow of a fireplace, from without by a majestic sunset. Or perhaps that glow comes from the Love of God and Man thrown off by the Good Salt-of-the-Earth Folks who reside in said thatch-roof huts.

Kinkade’s paintings have a certain commercial appeal. They’re pictures intended to evoke those warm, fuzzy feel-good emotions in the same people who get all moist contemplating a Big-Eyed Puppy or Kitty Picture.

Feh.

But it’s nice to know that even Mr. Warm-and-Fuzzy has his Dark Side. Quoth the LA Times:

And then there is Kinkade’s proclivity for “ritual territory marking,” as he called it, which allegedly manifested itself in the late 1990’s outside the Disneyland Hotel in Anaheim.

“This one’s for you, Walt,” the artist quipped late one night as he urinated on a Winnie the Pooh figure, said Terry Sheppard, a former vice president for Kinkade’s company, in an interview.

So that’s where that characteristic Golden Glow comes from. It’s a Golden Shower!

Or is it just another case of Life imitating Art?

Perhaps an Earthy Discovery like this is best celebrated with a limerick - an appropriately earthy Verse Form:

Thomas Kinkade, as best I can see,
Is not a big fan of Disney.
He says, “Watch what I do
To this Winnie-the-Pooh.
When I’m through, he’ll be Winnie-the-Peeh.”