I think it's the kind of art that people pretentiously call art and then when they get refuted by others they give long-winded pretentious explanations about how art is something something but by then I've fallen asleep.

Then they throw their beret on the ground in frustration and go to the coffee house to vent in the form of beatnik poetry and a cop picks me up because I fell asleep on the street for the third time and he says if it happens again he's going to put me in holding for a day and give me a ticket.