Hygienic XXXVI

This year's Hygienic Art Show was, as usual, in this rockin' little city of ours, fantastic. Fantastic, Fabulous, Fa-reaking awesome.

The Art? We are lovers of The Art:

Mumsie's neighbor's piece.

Our darling Dorothy's piece.

Mr. D's.

Oh yes.

Color.

Ledgie!

Our own Mistah's own entry.

Bad-ass.

McKinley's. A show favorite.

Lovely . . .

. . . and lovely.

And one of this year's show-stoppahs:

Hmmmm, she reminds me of someone . . .

. . . ah, yes.

 . . . New London: home of the well-formed buttocks.

But nevermind those well-formed buttocks. Look at these, my own peoples.

MB's in this photo; I swear she is.

Oh, what a Time we had, with those friends-of-ours and that sister-of-mine . . .

And may I call it? Best selfie evah.

We always return to the Hygienic Galleries on Sunday for a revisit-the-art-in-the-sober-light-of-day excursion, and looking outside was just as fun as being inside . . .

Aren't they great?

Aren't they adorable?

Don't you love them?

I do. They're my peeps. My lovely, lovely peeps.

Bring on XXXVII, baby.