Dear Viktor Wynd,
You and I clearly are kindred spirits. My friend Nick mentioned your Museum of Curiosities as a place to check out the next time I was in London. In fact, he specifically said this:
It looks like how I imagine the inside of your head looks.
Well, he’s not wrong.
My head is filled with flotsam and jetsam, much like your museum.
In fact, your website celebrates the lack of categorization as part of the mission.
This museum will merely display everything that has glittered & caught the eye of it’s founder.
I just want to take a moment to recognize your genius. Where else can a jar of Amy Winehouse’s poop live alongside some terrible taxidermy?
As I was able to visit recently, here are some visual aids for readers who think I’m kidding:
This is pretty bad, even as bad taxidermy goes.
And part of Amy outside her music lives on.
BFs 4EVA!
It must be weird to be a celebrity whose detritus is museum worthy.
There is plenty going on in this case. Almost too much for intake.
Id like to copy edit the museum mission statement, but I won’t. Here it is with all its charm intact:
The Museum has no overreaching aim beyond the theft of it’s visitors time and the hope that it will provide amusement by return & hopes to fill the vacuum between what the establishment elite believes is worthy of worship & what exists in the world.
Good news: It did ABSOLUTELY provide amusement. This is exactly the sort of place that provides a perfect afternoon for me.
Observe and report 
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