Sunday, October 6, 2013

National Archaeological Museum in Athens, Greece.

The National Archaeological Museum in Athens, Greece, houses some of the most valuable artifacts in the country. And in a country like Greece, that's a lot of fine art - and opportunity for laughter -
under one roof.
After hearing his spiteful rendition of "She'll be Comin' Round the Mountain" for the
fifteenth time, she deeply regretted getting him a flute instead of the guitar he'd wanted for Christmas.

Little Red Riding Hood isn't messing around...
let granny go or the wolf pup gets it.
It might surprise many people that long before he faced off with Harry Potter,
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had a prolific modeling career.

Cow YOU doin'?
Addicted to the adrenaline and danger of his time in the circus, Giorgio found himself
unable to just plow the fields normally no matter how much it embarrassed his parents.

When the doctor said the surgery would be "binocular", Prometheus had incorrectly assumed
he meant it in the medical sense of "pertaining to both eyes".

Mortified but unable to leave his post, Hippolytos watched in horror as Sahlas
kept on doing one racist, insulting impression after another, and decided that he would even take his horrible brother-in-law's job offer if it meant he never had to hear the words "dur dur durrr" again.

This gnome is fully prepared for the dangerous and
vicious world of garden accessorizing.  

Sometimes I just wanna DANCE

I call this series "Don't Drink the Water".

This is how most octopuses probably should look
when they see a human being.

This young Herakles statuette is suffering from
 a particularly unfortunate combination of leg damage
and mysterious red paint.

Human-Avian Flu: The Early Years

"Giving someone the finger" dates back farther than I would ever have imagined,
and apparently in former Persia the same sentiment could be expressed just using the thumb. But I prefer to think that this was the work of an artist who liked to see a cheerful thumbs up when he was feeling blue, but felt silly doing it himself. 
She was never going to do a home perm again, that was for sure.

Suspecting that his noble seahorse ancestry was once again being demeaned and
marginalized by powerful equine lobbyists high up in the government, Horace resented the generic label of "bull-shaped figurine" given to him by insensitive and prejudiced museum staff.

Sadly driven to extinction by the sailors who prized its glittery scales and teeth for making the puppets and marionettes they so valued on their long sea journeys, the magnificent aquatic Blobmonster was a solitary but vicious hunter who cleverly lured its prey using an enormous, disarming smile and endless requests for tummy rubs. 


Always keen to reject gender stereotypes, the nippled jug grew a mustache just in time
for the annual Pottery Achievement Awards ceremony and waited for the
inevitable online backlash.

Being called a "spineless hedgehog" in that board meeting had been the final straw
so Andreas the armadillo quit his high-pressure job in the city to become a freegan, disguised himself as a garbage can, and spent the rest of his life surviving off of whatever discarded food the universe chose to give him.

Sick of being a bull with no direction and no future, Hippocrates had looked to the heavens and prayed that he would become a spiritual vessel and he found himself surprisingly content with the results. 
When he instructed that his son be allowed to create his death mask, Argurios didn't think to specify that it be his eldest son rather than his 6-year old who had a tendency toward the dramatic and an obsession with monkeys (and no, I'm not mocking the face of a dead man. I'm simply amused by the wild enthusiasm the artist had for really clearly defining his features). 
When he said he wanted everyone to know him like the Man in the Moon he had just meant that he wanted worldwide recognition, but he should have known that his aspiring-astronomer wife would take him much more literally. 
Although he knew it was irrational, the artist was felt so unnerved and judged by his client's contemplative and skeptical expression that he finally just closed his eyes, finished the rest by touch, and didn't even bother completing the chin.
It had taken him years and a number of defensive near-gorings, but Tros had finally
convinced the rest of the guys that real men wear whatever they want.