In fact, sometimes when I'm creative writing I have to slice it open and scoop out the rest of the sauce because the sauce shop is closed and I need more sauce. And sometimes one also just wants to paint with acrylics apparently.
I bought such paints about ten years ago and opened them recently because I was unwell and also bored. I painted Ms Blake Lively because I needed a humanoid's face and she was on the cover of the Vogue I dragged out of the neighbours trash (I'm classy).
I've given poor Blake a bad nose job and a terrible hair do but that's postmodern art for you. It certainly doesn't stop millions of postmodernists painting crap and popping it on the walls of London's Tate Modern. Clear a spot on your walls, Tate! Here's another piece of shit.
