Michael Seymour Blake
Michael Seymour Blake eats, sleeps, doodles, watches movies, and occasionally writes stuff in Queens, NY. Find him on Instagram here @michaelseymourblake, or check out his often-neglected website here: www.michaelsblake.com.
“ASS TOO WEAK” by Michael Seymour Blake
Michael Seymour Blake is the author of the art book 12 Days of Santa Crying. Shirts featuring his art can be seen on hot bodies around the world. He eats, sleeps, doodles, writes, lives in Queens, NY. He easily gets lost. Instagram: @michaelseymourblake Fabulous (It’s True!) Website: MichaelSeymourBlake.com
“MAGIC SHOW” by Michael Seymour Blake
“STAGES OF FLIGHT PHOBIA” by Michael Seymour Blake
“OUR BOB” by Michael Seymour Blake
Michael Seymour Blake is the author of the art book 12 Days of Santa Crying. Shirts featuring his art can be seen on hot bodies around the world. He eats, sleeps, doodles, writes, lives in Queens, NY. He easily gets lost. Instagram: @michaelseymourblake Fabulous (It’s True!) Website: MichaelSeymourBlake.com
“ANXIETY SEX” by Michael Seymour Blake
Michael Seymour Blake is the author of the art book 12 Days of Santa Crying. Shirts featuring his art can be seen on hot bodies around the world. He eats, sleeps, doodles, writes, lives in Queens, NY. He easily gets lost. Instagram: @michaelseymourblake Fabulous (It’s True!) Website: MichaelSeymourBlake.com
“ANIMALS” by Michael Seymour Blake
Michael Seymour Blake is the author of the art book 12 Days of Santa Crying. Shirts featuring his art can be seen on hot bodies around the world. He eats, sleeps, doodles, writes, lives in Queens, NY. He easily gets lost. Instagram: @michaelseymourblake Fabulous (It’s True!) Website: MichaelSeymourBlake.com
“BEDTIME” by Michael Seymour Blake
Instagram: @michaelseymourblake His Fabulous (It’s True!) Website: MichaelSeymourBlake.com
“FUN MOM” by Michael Seymour Blake
CHERYL by Michael Seymour Blake
There was a loud crash outside the apartment. We were in bed talking about leaving the city just as we always had around ten p.m. every night for the past million years. I’d bring up a photo of some paradise with green grass and a nice big blue sky, no skyscrapers or office buildings in sight, and Terry would go, “Yep, that’s the place for us,” and then we’d settle back into our misery and forget all about it. I was delinquent with two of my loans, Terry took a pay cut to save her job, and we had a…