Warning: You might want to stop at this point.

Below is the work of Wolfgang Fletcher, my alter-ego. He is the result of my exposure to a New York art world where it seemed that crap-making was the only road to success. "Wolfgang" is a skanky 27-year old guy who doesn't wash all that often, wears expensive clothes, has an expensive drug habit and will give you crabs. He has a faux-hawk, a vocabulary of art BS that makes people believe he has talent and would think nothing of blowing a gallery owner in the back room to get a show.

Wolfgang takes bad photos of gross things. He arranges them into the worst possible compositions. Then he adds a few really disgusting personal touches before printing these compositions onto canvases, stretching them onto shoddy structures and putting them into frames found on the street.