Welcome to my gallery of completely unnecessary double-niche humour about modern art museums. Inspired by the MoMA in New York, the SFMoMA in San Francisco, the Mori & MOMAT in Tokyo, the Tate Modern in London, and the Centre Pompidou in Paris.
Yo' MoMA is so poor, it only has two Jackson Pollocks.
And one of them is in storage.
Yo' MoMA's gift shop is so small, books with Frida Kahlo's
unibrow on the cover are only available online.
Yo' MoMA displays so few works by women, its name could
stand for “Mostly Only Male Artists”.
Yo' MoMA is so commercial, Picasso's Les Demoiselles
d'Avignon are charging Pistoletto's Man With Yellow Pants up
to $500 an hour. For sex. Because they're hookers.
Yo' MoMA's admission price is so high, some of the artists on
display can't afford to buy a ticket.
Yo' MoMA's guards look so bored, I saw one of them lingering
in front of Roy Lichenstein's Pistol hoping it would go off.
Yo' MoMA's newest additions are so pretentious, the audio
guide is just a 4-hour recording of someone sighing.
Yo' MoMA has a weird silent film playing on a loop in a side
room and it's programming everyone who watches it to be
Yo' MoMA's lobby is so big and empty, the elephant in the
room could actually be the one Banksy spraypainted.
Yo' MoMA closes so early, Salvador Dali's pocket
watches didn't have time to melt.
Yo' MoMA's exhibits change so infrequently, your entire
museum should be in a museum.
Yo' MoMA is so big, when Tilda Swinton's in town she prefers
sleeping there instead of a hotel.