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NO PHOTOS EXTRA - CRAOMAN


You’re having a good day, life feels stable. You know where you are and feel positive about where you’re headed. No one’s been an asshole in a while and you actually remembered to take a vitamin. And then you come across something like Pet Shit, a book drawn and printed by French lunatic Craoman, and suddenly you realize you’re just a tiny baby ant with no comprehension of what’s actually at work in the world. You need your diaper changed because you just crapped a load of question marks.

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What happened to this guy that made his mind work like this? What's up with those creepy blue latex gloves? Is he going to hurt you? You want to dismiss what you’ve found as something for the body mod and gasmask set, but the cilia in your belly are a-quiver because this is so weird and amazing and so disturbing it's beyond comprehension. Now you’re almost crying, because life is scary and the universe is huge, and clearly someone’s found a key to unlock one of Father Time’s wormholes where cute fuzzy critters and slimy creepy crawlers have equal footing, and they’re all coalescing into a giant orgy of self-composed madness. And today was supposed to be a breezer…