Finally, a Museum That Gets Me
I didn’t expect much when I saw the flyer stapled to a power pole near the dog park. 3D Digital Chainsaw Museum Opening Now. I figured it was another poorly thought-out escape room concept or maybe a hardware store trying to be edgy.
But curiosity (and the smell of churros from the lobby) lured me in. And what I found floored me.
There, under tasteful LED lighting and nestled among walls painted in calming intellectual blue, were exhibits dedicated entirely… to me. Or at least, my adventures, mishaps, hallucinations, and public service announcements that somehow got misfiled as art. There I was riding a torpedo with two sock puppets. There I was arm-wrestling a gorilla. There I was holding a conference on existential plumbing with a confused mime and an angry raccoon. Every piece looked familiar, but better. More museum-y.
I wandered the gallery, nodding at the visitors like I was just another patron not the star. They didn’t know, of course. Chainsaw Chicken wears many masks (well, one rubber one), but he blends into crowds like a flamingo at a barbecue.
At one point I sat on a bench clearly labeled Chainsaw Chicken.com which I appreciated because its rare to get a bench that understands your brand. I soaked it in. The spotlights. The silence. The gentle hum of digital projectors beaming my identity into the void.
Somewhere between admiration and existential dread, it hit me: this museum isn’t just a gallery of my work its a mirror of my mind. Scattered, loud, absurd, possibly dangerous, and occasionally misunderstood by zoning officials.
I left a note in the guestbook:
Beautiful place. Smells like validation. Five stars, but needs more churros.
C. Chicken, Visionary