Vastly Superior? Prove It On The Terrace.

Don the silken scarf and cock walk yourself down to the Museum of Contemporary Art for an exhibition you shan’t forget.

Because it’s on the roof and you won’t have to look at an artwork longer than the 3 seconds or less it takes you to walk to the lift.

Relax with the night to the electric synth sounds of Vast Hill on the sculpture terrace with the knowledge that you can technically claim you spent an entire evening in the presence of contemporary art.


You can once and for all justly tell that bloated kombucha-guzzler Marquez and his face-merkinned sex-shakra-reiki therapist Marquis to shove their White-On-White collection up their bleached a**holes.

Now who’s the cultured one?

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