True is that one doesn’t meet silly people much too often, I mean, willing to do anything to “have a taste” of celebrity.  It was one of those nights when boredom and empty pockets are like brothers and sister, and our idiot was loafing about, as he never really felt like working, he wanted to be an Artist, only to be known, to become famous.  It was that very desperate hunger that brought him to take up a bet with some friends, who hired a guy coming from Milan saying that he was a bored rich patron. It was September, they introduced him to the rich man who asked if he wanted to work in the art gallery of a friend of his, a big gallery.  The eyes of the artist lit up, he couldn’t believe it, but as it goes, everything has its price.  In this case, to go to Milan and change his life, he should eat a turd, left to him was only the choice of the type of shit.  The artist thought it over for days and sleepless nights; the morning of the fourth day he took the decision and accepted, with the condition that if he had to eat shit it should be the most famous shit in the world, so he chose the “Artist’s shit”. The patron paid more than a hundred grand and after a week he organised a meeting with a photographer, witnesses, our stupid artist and of course the “Artist’s shit”.  Under the bewildered and amused eyes of the people flocked to the event, the guy opened the 30g tin, and with a knife he spread the brown contents on a slice of bread. It was only after a gastric lavage and a few days convalescence necessary to go back to a balanced mental and physical state that his friends and the guy from Milan confessed it was all a joke and there wasn’t any Art Gallery waiting in Milan, 2007, inkjet print on photograph paper, 16×19 cm