You can take yours home — and yours, too. No offense, but I don't like what I see at all. You bend the wrong way; your adulation, adoration skews everything — and by such a band of old, an army of ugly well-past skill — I can't stand it! Send in, please, those convex faces; laugh at my smallness as you mock my gaze. I demand broad frames that diminish and belittle, that show with a smirk my world and leave me wanting more.