Okay, now they are at my rocker's final show.
Yeah, shut up.
Filter, filter, filter.
The black noise is good.
I'm starting to be freaking out about ourselves.
Oh my god, this is it.
So, I'm going to spend my time lying on this.
Yes, I literally just shot glittery house at my house all.
This is the exact piece I saw when I was six years old playing hockey from kindergarten with my mother.
It's a little bit better. I ate it from a six-year-old and it's from Pablo. I'm shy in these shows.
I don't know how I like that.
Anyway, we were in South Albion, right?
That's what my mother wanted to be called.
She wanted to seem like a cool older sister.
Anyway, we saw this piece that literally blew my fricking mind.
Literally. I mean, look at it.
It blew my fricking mind for the barbie to get a prize of $49,000.
I can't believe that.
I mean, it's obviously a just-play barbie-styling head surrounded by, like, oil level lay,
gel ins, Charlie Perfume Orbit, cover and gack.
Nick is fricking loading and gack.
It says so much about toxic products and chemicals that we put on our bodies.
That's what the say can be, and vanity. So we could eventually look like barbie.
Yeah. Oh, God, I don't really shine today.
And as a six-year-old, my whole existence was altered.
I knew art with my passion.
Yeah. I even saw him at the G.O.C. in his pants, and I called him Big Diana Ross.
Hashtag, tell her how to do that.
Right, so, Daddy, you don't understand my obsession with her.
They're like, why don't you like Jack for John's work?
It's like, he made an American flag and puked it up all over my grandmother's quilt.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Although that'd be cool if it was, like, intentional, you know?
Or, like, why don't you do like, four-haul?
Don't get me started on that consumeristic thing.
Well, I mean, how much more consumer driven can you be than fucking careful so you can't?
Think about all the G.M.O.s he's hiding in this park.
Hashtag roasts on the max.
That's what only makes me love Diana Ross's take.
I'm like, even more.
As in our taste.
I'm gonna say photography.
Yeah, you may have seen me trying to go Twitter.
Or Instagram.
No.
I'm off the top.
Hashtag with me.
That's for life.
D.A.B.C.
Number four life.
I prefer a much more straightforward approach, much like Diana Ross's.
We're like, kindred spirits.
That's why it's so important that we absorb the laughs of lady babies on a soul.
So important.
You know?
Oh, God.
I mean, who knows why she's retiring.
Do you know why she's retiring?
Do you know why she's retiring?
Do you know why she's retiring?
Do you know why she's retiring?
Are you hurt at any time?
No.
You look like her at any time.
According to the artist's Underground Tumblr page, that's a blog for anybody's old.
She's either going to go to, like, Texas to teach Dr. Jobba Boche how to paint,
or she's going to join the reunion tour of Rustic Root as the opening act of the Grand
Edition of D.A.B.C.
Hashtag send me on my way.
Speculation is just that.
Spells.
If I trust in my sources, mainly her lure cycling event in front of her apartment,
she's either going to be the first ambassador to Mars, sponsored by her friend and hashtag
genius, Baylon Musk.
Or, this is what they want.
She lost her family joy of painting fortune.
And the bad investment of, wait for it, blockbuster video.
She invested that shit in, like, 2008.
And now she's, like, broke.
Like, broke a joke.
I guess she's going to sell her water to science or something.
But hopefully, then I will find out who's farewell for average man again.
Unless I'd like to really pick Big D's brain about my latest photo series debuting on
Instagram called Bloating.
It's going to be, like, the next big thing.
Like, bigger than Planking or that stupid fucking mannequin challenge.
You know whatever goes right.
I guess when you, like, photobots someone's pick, looking like we're going to blow some
nasty chunks.
And I get some people like, ah, YouTube, can you come up?
Here's an example.
Don't worry, I don't have any news on this camera.
If you guys can picture yourself, just leave a little room for that after me.
Great. Perfect.
That one's good, that one's good.
Let's see, hashtag grills.
Let's see.
I just remember brilliant for anybody over the age of 25.
Does someone just cough?
Does someone just cough?
Gross.
I did not bring my Japanese dumbcat.
Go figure.
I am not vaccinated.
I just want to pop my body for a necessary chemical and metals.
I'm going to have to leave.
I don't want to catch the latest outbreak of measles or autism.
I have to win my life.
I have to get you all.
Welcome to the joy of our own with Diana Ross.
Please take this moment to silence your cell phones, pages, unwrap out your candies.
Take awkward selfies for Instagram.
Put away your rainsticks.
Finish polishing your gemstones.
And biding any mere one-edibles or peyote for this journey.
She's an artistic powerhouse.
Innovative.
Daring.
Born Diana on the front.
She had a 16th, 19th, and 63rd to Bob's and in the garden in Anchorage, Alaska.
She had a turbulent childhood.
My dad always used to say there are no mistakes when we have cool accidents.
Daring Bob's rise to public broadcast celebrity.
A rift between Diana's parents, widened both artistically and emotionally.
Fame went to his fro.
Her mother, a strict portrait painter, and her father, a whimsical landscape artist,
troubled and sued in their painted paradise.
My parents divorced when I was 16.
I remember the evening of the blue.
I had just been to paint a color, prom date.
It was a fictional depiction of me and Andy Gibb.
In a typical prom, I was the one who turned up in the room.
The plan was let's bring this painting with me to prom.
I did not go to prom.
My parents unveiled the tragedy of their divorce the evening of prom.
With my prima donna father detailing by a painting by my mother was the devil.
As she grew up, Diana was encouraged to only express her feelings through art, not words.
She knew there was only one acceptable career to her parents.
It felt forced into a life in the arts.
In 1995, Diana Ross took over the family business to maintain the artistic dynasty
and rebooted her late father's PBS painting show, The Joy of Painting, to much success.
Diana has had a successful career in art, but she's not satisfied.
Something has been missing.
Tonight, all that changes.
Hello there, lawyers of art.
For those of you who didn't watch that video, I am Diana Ross.
I'm not that Diana. I'm no princess die. I'm rather a natural female.
Chemical free since 1993 when I gave up the nose candy.
And I thought we were deodorant.
So that's me or Snow.
Tonight will be magical and full of intimacy.
Why intimacy? Because into me you see this very Eve.
After a lifetime of artistry, I decided to give it all up and try my true passion.
A world of my family and more specifically my father shunned.
I realized hundreds of thousands of dollars were there a week.
Then I was living the life my parents wanted me to live.
I hid my true self away.
Afraid of the judgment and being ostracized.
Uh, give me.
I'm a little too early with that Q.
I'm not afraid of judgment.
My true self was hiding in the closet.
It's time to come out.
Not be afraid of the world anymore.
Be the man who I'm meant to be.
Again, a little too early with that Q.
A girl in the closet.
Be the man who I'm meant to be.
Be the man who I'm meant to be.
I am.
You got this.
You got this.
You are not your father.
Give.
Dead.
Dead.
You're a bean rising from your ashton.
Do this.
Powers, powers, powers, powers, powers.
One, two, three.
I am.
Do this.
One, two, three.
One, two, three.
Get up and do.
Are you sure you're not going to watch this?
It's been a couple of years.
Get it together, Diane.
Get it together.
Go get it.
I am.
I am going to be an investment banker.
I'm going to be an investment banker.
I should have come out a long time ago.
So, tonight I'm going to escort you through my life's work smart one last time ever.
Also a bill for purchase.
My father once said, life is a garden of flowers.
And you will bloom when the world is ready to taste your nectar.
You bitch.
So, get me another one then.
He was a great general.
But I'm ready.
I'm ready for you and you.
All of you.
To taste my nectar.
Follow me as I pollinate my mind with my energy, my soul, and my art for one level time ever.
I bring you to the beginning.
I call these my therapy squiggles.
From the ages of three to thirteen, I have weekly therapy sessions.
No.
You'll notice a common theme when they come to each beach.
A great wow.
No, not money.
Or marijuana, you stutter.
But one, Peter Pan.
It was believed I was shown Mary Martin's Peter Pan two million life.
And I was afraid that six-in-a-bitch was going to come in and steal my shadow.
And my precious, homey, high gold.
I made this.
This is where I keep all my money.
And whisk me off to a land of foul smell and orphan voice.
As a teen, I brought everybody home from my very first art show entitled,
Peter Pan, Plectomaniac, Kidnapper.
In order to sell my pieces to start my very first stock for Collio, you know,
penny stocks, CDs, kid stock.
I sold four pieces at five dollars a piece.
Now they're available for one thousand dollars a piece.
Inflation.
It was a major success until I...
Even when I was a father came home, juiced up on whiskey, cough syrup,
and failed ratings and decided to point out my lack of technique,
each of my swiggles.
And then he went on a week-long hunger strike to show his disdain for my elementary work.
I may come and surprise some of you, but my father is a little weak now.
Another attempt at winning over my father's admiration is drug admiration.
Artistically, well, how do you make true passion?
I created these macaroni visions.
These are portraits of people I aspired to be famous bankers.
We all knew who they are, right?
Now we have Charles Merrill, J.K. Morgan,
Mira Rocho, and of course...
the lean ones.
They have a rather luminous look on them, don't they?
And so do they are.
I was always encouraged, forced by my parents to create art.
With the express understanding that we'd never be as superior or as deep as my father's pieces.
It wasn't until my decided early adulthood when I created whatever I pleased
because I stopped seeking my father's approval.
Thank you for my time.
He's my extremely helpful assistant.
He never says no to me, and I love him.
Time went back to 1980 when I was attending Sarah Lawrence College
and majoring in the art of walking.
I was losing my virginity when Dickie Wettman, whose father was the executive J.K. Morgan,
and I ridden with insider trading tips from him.
That connection was my first real love.
Unfortunately, Dickie went to enjoy the Peace Corps,
so to deal with that trouble to pop out of a game,
I crafted this piece of art.
A touch-and-feel work, I think you will.
I used a former fictitious lover, a cut out of Andy Gil.
He's under there.
I created a rubric of Dickie's hair.
Let's see now.
And I was like,
I don't want you to see this.
It's true to life.
Unfortunately, late in that summer, Dickie wrote a breakup letter to me,
and I had to respond, writing a liar on his face,
and flitting off his wrist.
I quickly responded to this pleasant project.
You have no idea.
The burden that caused all my personal push-pulling.
I had a terrible couple of merging.
And I loved it.
But it's now too much for me to share with you.
And that bear hurt.
My wonderful life, you know.
Let it die for you.
Now I'm prompted.
My personal.
That bear hurt.
That's cold.
It's cold out to my mouth.
It's cold out to my heart.
I cannot hurt you.
I can't hurt you.
I can't hurt you.
And this wonderful, wonderful cheating boyfriend
is available for a mere $45,000.
He's well used.
I used that broken hearted rage to turn it into a fruitful music career
with my band Crystal Revelations.
Spawning my number one feminist radio hit,
Wraped by Emotion.
Wraped by Emotion.
I walk by his side.
Left alone with my recurring love.
He wasn't caught.
Rage.
Rage.
Rage.
Diamond shows.
Rage.
What?
I think rape is funny.
Dad eventually got me named.
New York Magazine is the fastest growing pro-York business
with my full-length visual and performing arts show.
That validation left me disgruntled.
My life felt unfulfilled.
After all, I'm reading Money Magazine on the down low.
I'm reading free journals on the down low.
I'm keeping up with my new venture, Capital Interest,
and this dog is like a cat since I was a child.
Oh dear.
I think I need a moment to cleanse my...
Yes, cleanse my aura.
Feel free to get a voice.
Explore all with me.
Touch my cheating boyfriend.
Take in my natural name.
Explore.
Be curious of all these memes by voice.
Okay.
Enjoy.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
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How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
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It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
It was so good to see you.
How was the day?
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Where my flower had yet to sprout its protective foliage.
Exposed to the world I would become.
I'd maintain a blade, a scissors, or a razor.
It's my vaginal whiskers.
Not once have I groomed my coffee up for you.
Since I opted to let them roam free in the land of Diana Ross.
Turning back the clocks of time, I am yet old again.
So goodbye, thirty years of bush.
It's been quite a ride.
Goodbye my bushy baby.
There it comes. There it comes.
Down the drain of time.
I'm rich. I'm rich. I'm going to buy all this art. Every last piece.
That's right. That's right, Diana.
I don't think I'm fancy because I'm an artist.
That's right.
I need another glass of wine.
Another? Anyone? I'm on this new diet to celery and peanut for each.
I'm white wine, doesn't matter.
I prefer to have something on blocker.
Yes. Here you hold that. I like this. Actually hold this too.
What is your name, son?
What is your name? Your name.
Catch. Here's a little something for your piggy bank.
Yes, let's do this.
There's more where that came from.
Seriously, plebeians. I was going to catch my leg.
This is from Diana Ross.
You can't spell me.
I watched Jeff, who owns his first piece, The Rabbit, tell me about that.
Vexy, I bought a whole building just to get his work.
I know I'm not an art applyer, I'm just a rich asshole.
Unless you consider my husband Lucas an asshole, which I do.
We can't have children, so I filled my bearing void with art.
Art doesn't leave me, but I could talk to children and enjoy.
I'm leaving me to go on a business trip to play golf in Bermuda.
I need another. I need another.
Sweet spot for our volumes.
You can quote me on that.
This is the new piece I've never seen.
It speaks volumes of American hoarding issue.
Let's see what's in here.
A bottle of Pinot Gris.
Vaginal whites.
Oxy cotton.
A signed picture of Donald Trump.
Let's see what else.
Parking tickets.
What is that?
Let's see what the first one is.
Lucas is an asshole.
Oh, this is my press conference.
This is where I put it.
Oh, darling, you can't keep me any like this.
Hold this. You know the drill.
You have no name, right? Is that what we discovered?
What is today's day, anybody?
It's the day of the day.
The 13th?
Oh, shoot. I was supposed to get those tongues from my ankles.
Now, to reschedule, cash is a little something for your personal bank.
I'm not sure where that came from.
The greats helped me see the truth behind the art.
That's why Diana Ross is extremely close to me.
I am extremely close to her.
I'm going to take my gas pack.
Diana Ross is the perfect person to invest in,
especially if she is retiring.
I'm not talking about Celine Dion retiring either.
I particularly love this piece, jumped up.
It's like a commentary on Mylon.
It looks like you commoners haven't treasured any of these pieces,
but too late now. They're all mine after that one.
Oh, shoot. Oh, shoot.
I still have my fur.
Peter hates it when I still have my fur.
It's like I'm disrespecting them further.
Can you hold this, sir?
Can you give this check to the powers of me?
You think a cool 2.5 will cover all this?
All right. 3 mil.
3 mil. Diana Ross.
I'm staying double now.
Well, that doesn't matter.
Here you go.
Give this to the powers of me. Actually, no, I don't trust you.
You're a guy.
I want to steal it and take credit for it.
Give this to the powers of me.
I love you. I love you.
We'll see you later.
Now, where is that fellow? I want to punch him next.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, that this too-summoned flesh would melt.
Oh, that the everlasting had not fixed his canon against self-swater.
Oh, God. God. How weird.
Let's go. Let's go.
Maybe we should get a job.
Maybe just totally.
Maybe get a smash on the alley with us or a rock cafe.
Okay, I don't know.
Let's clean all this up.
None of this matters.
Here.
What do you mean?
Thank you, Mimi.
Save your life.
To the flying day!
I can afford to go to NYU now.
I can afford to go to...
We must celebrate.
Let's look at that and stay spot.
With a little...
A corner plane.
It's a tribal funeral song to say goodbye to Dynamo's auntie.
With a little Native American recorder plane.
Ya Allah.
Are you guys ready?
It's a celebration.
Now, I must take a new road to get my MBA.
At NYU Strang School of Business.
So thank you, Boyers of Art, for being here.
For my final moments as Diana Ross, the artist.
Farewell.
See you in next incarnation.
Thank you guys for coming out to my show.
This is the final show.
If you guys want to see more of my stuff,
it's online at sharingdomocasky.com.
And I'm cool that we can put this up again in a future month.
So if you want to see it, stay tuned at sharingdomocasky.com.
Thank you.
