The iron bust of Mo, the referee from Nickelodeon's GUTS, that my husband keeps in the garage. It’s taking up valuable storage space that I need to store some of Jacob’s baby stuff for when we finally have a second child. God even knows when that will be. Gordon hasn’t so much as touched me in months and when he does seem to be revving up, he’ll sneak out to the garage and come back different.
The Godzilla statue in Little Tokyo. It seems offensive and it scares Jacob every time we go for ramen. I mean, why would they erect a statue for a monster who has terrorized their home country for so long? Is it some type of offering? Do they think Godzilla will somehow see this and stop stomping their countrymen into oblivion? He’s not rational. He’s a destructive sea monster empowered by nuclear radiation and he’s SCARING MY SON!
The bronze sculpture of Marquis de Lafayette located at Union Square Park in Manhattan. This one is hard to talk about because it’s just so wrong and so offensive. If you’ve ever seen it, it’s pretty friggin’ clear that the artist’s rendering is of a straight white man, but I learned from Hamilton the musical that Lafayette was not only BLACK, but was also gay and sang songs. This country has a long, disgusting history of racism and bigotry, and removing this from public view would be a great first step in helping to heal these wounds.
Michelangelo’s “David” in the Sistine Chapel or wherever the fuck he put it. Let me be clear: that statue man has a baby’s dick. Even if he is supposed to be over eighteen, he has a little baby’s dick so it should be considered child porn. And I’ll come right out and say it: child porn - Ew! Gross! Not for me. I don’t like that stuff. Only way I would even CONSIDER keeping that statue is if #1 bestselling author Danny Brown writes a new novel where he uses David’s little baby’s dick to show that the fibonacci sequence proves Jesus was actually white.
There’s this street performer that is always outside Schlotzsky's Deli who is painted like a silver cowboy and stands REALLY still. Whenever I run to pick up a Schlotzsky’s meatball sub for Gordon, Jacob asks me, “Mummy, why is that metal man frozen like a statue?” and I don’t have the heart to tell him, “Jacob, that man isn’t frozen or metal or even a cowboy- he is poor. He is a poor, filthy street person that would rather lather himself up in paint and stand around begging like a bum than get a real job with health insurance and part-time off and ACTUALLY CONTRIBUTE TO SOCIETY.” Jacob’s not ready to learn about the poors yet and he is too young to read Atlas Shrugged, so it would be super convenient if some ICE agents could just “make him disappear.”
Those two sphinx statues in The NeverEnding Story (1984) with the big titties that fucking roast people with their laser vision. That part of the movie was unrealistic. It also made me feel all confused and made me think I was a softball-loving lezzie and convinced me to eat out Rhonda Bertram at a sleepover in 8th grade. If Gordo found out about that, he’d never forgive me. His Mo statue would be sitting shotgun in the CX-9 so fast and he’d take Jacob and go live at the lake house. Nuh uh. Can’t have that. They got to go.
