Citrus

"Run Away And Join The Citrus," gouache on paper, 11" x 13," (c) 2018 by Karen Kay Remus

It's a bad pun.  It's a painting.  It's outer-spacey.  It's lettering.  It's images of oranges.  It's...Run Away and Join the Citrus!

PS: Hey Trump, oranges were orange way before you were, and they wore it better!

Space Poo

Bleeeck!  Good thing odors can't travel through the vacuum of space!

Lately, I've been seeing these full-color posters of deep space, taken by the Hubble Telescope, and I can't help but notice that some of that HUGE stuff floating out there in the universe looks remarkably like poo.  

Maybe some gigantic space alien rolled down the window of his/her/its space ship and relieved his/her/itself. There aren't any "don't litter in space," or "keep the universe beautiful" signs, so... hey, why not?  If not now--when?  If not me--who?  And I gotta GO BAD NOW, so let's do this doo doo!  Says the extra-terrestrial. Who's gonna see?  Or care?

And even if there were "laws" against it, what would the fines or penalties be?  And to whom would you pay them?  What would the charges be?  Deep Space Dumping?  Far Out Fracking?

It's simply mind boggling.  What should we call these cosmic caca-looking formations?  Number Two Nebulae?  Monumental Monster Movements?  Help me out, here.  Please!