In his creases I saw only you.
His heavy, naked arm wrapped around me didn’t make me feel we were in our secret home we barricaded around ourselves to keep the horrendous world at bay.
He doesn’t have your face, showing tiny glimpses of the deep-seated pain of a sordid past we both battle and yet thrive off of everyday.
This is a stupid post and I don’t know why I’m on tumblr at 3AM.
But I still fucking miss you and I don’t know why.
It’s a different guy with the same shit every week. I’m fucking done forever.
The “Jello Desk”.
Without a doubt, once of the coolest images of “The Business Trip” saw an acid-tripping Alice Murphy melt her hands into the front desk of the Hayball Corporate Suites, only to devour it’s contents (in her mind— no matter how much acid you do, don’t try to eat a desk, kids).
Our Art Department tackled this scripted task by taking a segment of the lit desk, seen above, and removing it for a “ringer” segment; made of edible, color matching gelatin.
Then, all we had to do was give Maribeth the all clear, she went to town on the thing, and the “Jello Desk” was no more. Well, except for leftovers.
(Photos courtesy Brian Ferguson)
