Orin Starr, Citizens Ashamed of The Nest

Local activist and Lesbian swinger Orin Starr leading a group of anti-rude bingo night protesters outside of "The Nest" a bar in Portland, Oregon.

When most people think of bars in Portland Oregon good times and good beer come to mind. Even The Nest, Alberta street’s hot-spot for local well dressed liberals such as Orin Starr has been known for it’s comfortable atmosphere, cheap beer, and loud music set against a backdrop of fine rotating artwork curated by local celebrity Chris Haberman. What happens, though, when a local hangout, once a meeting point for well-cologned, high-class hipsters goes south? It becomes a Mecca for disgusting, disturbing, delusional,  racist, sexist, classist and homophobic outcries of slander and distaste masked by the power of the First Amendment.

On Sunday May 8th, 2011 Orin Starr entered The Nest like he does every other day of the week, hopped up on anti-depressents and exhausted after a long hard day of customer service at a local Co-Op. What did he want? He wanted what every other person in the bar wanted that night: a beer and an atmosphere that allowed him the opportunity to peep some fresh female clam as they say. What did he get, you ask? A first hand lesson in freedom of speech! Quietly enjoying his drink, Orin and his wingman for the night couldn’t help but notice it was Bingo Night, but what they failed to recognize was the well-posted and immediately visible signs stating “Sunday night at The Nest is we get to say what ever the fuck we want bingo night”. That’s right, readers, it was Rude Bingo Night.

After listening to the guy at the microphone berate gentle folks waiting for the bathroom with malicious slanderous comments, Orin turned to his wingman (a person who intelligently chooses to remain anonymous) and says, “Fuck this piece of shit with his whole I have a beard and balls attitude, I’m gonna fuck his shit up!” Orin’s wingman, Christianly as a kitten’s vagina, chose to turn the other cheek and ignore the barrage of bingo inspired insults, and quietly sipped his or her beer. Orin, however, could not just sit by while the ears of decent folks everywhere were subjected to  such harsh and vile abuse, and cried out, “Hey dumb fuckin’ dick for brains! This is Portland! We don’t hurt people’s feelings here you fucking piece of shit!”

Unfortunately Orin had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Being that he had completely ignored the well-posted signs describing the event of the evening in clear and vivid detail, the man-bear at the microphone took this as someone wanting to play along with the evening’s festivities, and really gave Orin a piece of his mind…. (Here at PortlandCityArt.com we strive ourselves to bring you up to date slanderous bullshit without censorship ,but the words exchanged in that moment at the bar were so degrading and shameful that even WE couldn’t stomach printing them in this article…….) Once the extended exchange of poetic hate had come down from its’ inevitable climax, Orin turned to the bartender to complain. The bartender ,though, had only this to say: “Bitch, put a dick in it!”

Disgusted by the entire situation and distraught by the not so sensitive energy at the bar, Orin fell victim to the violence and unleashed a flurry of ice cubes in the direction of Mr. Rude Bingo. A fist fight soon broke out, bottles were smashed, Starr’s friend was dragged from the bar by his or her front-facing ponytail and Orin, well… he was later found bloodied and hunching over in the alley like a lump of used dog shit (as opposed to brand new dog shit, straight from the ass).

Customers at the bar refused to comment on the situation, and even Portland’s finest were not able to get a statement regarding the scene of events that unfolded that evening. Was Orin Starr an unsuspecting victim of a hate crime or just a mild mannered customer pushed to the edge of violent rage by a tasteless lower then human life form holding the mic that night? Is this what our fair city is coming to? Bars that once housed the meek and sensitive now playgrounds for dirty mouthed trash talkers with a taste for violence against she-men? Is the first amendment really that important? Did Portland lose its sense of humor? Did it ever HAVE a sense of humor? Whatever the reason, whatever the justification, Portland has failed in the eyes of its’ citizens, and The Nest is the thorn that continues to break the CIty of Rose’s back.

 

Portland City Art (.org) CONCEDES

concession speech photo

In what will go down as one of the longest and ugliest battles the Art Scene has ever known, John Graeter of Portland City Art (.org) has made it official tonight: his non-profit group is throwing in the towel. Portland City Art (.com) is victorious. Before we get to the festivities (which have been going full force since late Saturday evening when Graeter placed a phone call to our offices to privately concede), here is the official, unedited and unabbreviated concession speech directly from the losing camp’s headquarters.

Dear Artists, Art Patrons and Portland City Art supporters,

I have important news to share about Portland City Art [.org].

As many of you know, Portland City Art [.org] was officially started when founder Chris Haberman and myself joined forces in May of 2009. We began with modest resources, ambitious goals and a creative vision to bring Portland artists and the art community together in alternative venues that presented a refreshed, compelling and engaging environment for patrons and the greater public to experience and appreciate art. Our first large show, The Manor of Art, was a huge success by all accounts, and in retrospect, a voracious inaugural accomplishment and compelling representation for the creative vision both Chris and I had dreamed for Portland City Art [.org]. Amazed, inspired, bewildered (and exhausted) from the subsequent momentum that the Manor produced, Chris and I set forth a path for the upcoming year that proved to be equally as ambitious.

Joining forces with Administrative Director Andrea “Ray” Boyle in October 2009, and with the steadfast support of the city, our artists, our volunteers, community members and patrons, Portland City Art [.org] went on to produce and present several large community art events including: The Big 100 (with Jason Brown), The Love Show (with Ben Pink), Works IV, A Rainy Day Wildfire and the most recent PDX Bridge Festival Gallery Tour. During this time and since May of 2009, Portland City Art [.org] also continued to present and showcase local emerging and established artists in our monthly art shows at Olympic Mills Commerce Center, Eastbank Commerce Center, Water Ave Corridor Gallery, The Nest Lounge, The Limelight, Slinde & Nelson Lawfirm, Rumblefish Music, Accanto Restaurant and three spaces at Pioneer Place Mall. Since May of 2009, we are proud to have presented the work of over 800 Portland artists at each of these alternative venues!

Since February of 2010, upon Chris Haberman’s departure to pursue his own art career, the Portland City Art [.org] team has consisted of: myself as Creative and Executive Director, Ray as Administrative Director, hard-working volunteers, and the generous and notable assistance of art admin super-stars Dianna Fontes and Elizabeth Lamb. Still, many people asked us at our shows, “how many people does it take to produce all this work?,” and “how do you accomplish all this every month?” and “how do you sustain the operation of these huge events?” These valid questions, though vexing to answer in with any succinct one-liner, are ones that I have often asked myself the past year and half. There is no escaping the reality that the past year and half has been a tremendous personal investment and sacrifice for both myself, for Andrea, and all of our volunteers. As you can probably deduce, the amount of work and funds to sustain a monthly operation like Portland City Art [.org] is a particularly challenging accomplishment for a team of essentially two people.

This being said, I am sad to say that Portland City Art [.org] can no longer afford to continue our services and business operations, in the current format, after September. Though our events, art shows and mission has the proud vocal support of our Mayor, our commissioners and city, our artists, patrons, business partners and community members, we cannot sustain ourselves on only applause, praise and positive feedback. We face the reality of our production, employment and material costs which collectively constitute an enormous responsibility that can longer be financed or creatively alleviated.

Starting in October, I will personally continue to curate two of our venues, Slinde & Nelson and Accanto Restaurant under the name Graeter Art Rep. Portland City Art [.org] will officially be dissolved, and we will halt production of all events and art shows at our other venues. Please contact me at: j.graeter@gmail.com, if you have questions concerning any of the above.

I’d like to personally thank the hard work of our staff, our generous volunteers, our art patrons and supporters and especially my good friend, business partner and original founder of Portland City Art [.org], Chris Haberman. Last but certainly not least, I would like to once more thank the continued support of our tremendous local artists, to each of who has been an honor to work with, and to each who comprise the essence of Portland City Art [.org]’s vibrant mission. It has been an honor to work with you all, and I look forward to supporting your work for years to come.

Sincerely,

John Graeter
Creative Director, Co-founder
Portland City Art [.org]

Blockbuster Artist Trade Finalized! Elliott Sends Kraft to Haberman in Exchange for Sincere Compliment

(l to r) Steve Elliott, a career slacker whose most notable achievement as an artist was selling a painting for 100 beers; Charlie Alan Kraft, self-proclaimed “wildman” and creator of the How to Paint Like Famous Artists instructional videos; Chris Haberman, sleazy used car salesman artist, sells over 1,000 paintings a year and still qualifies for food stamps.

The Portland art scene was rudely awakened from a Pabst Blue Ribbon induced slumber early this morning by a shocking development that has insiders scratching their heads in disbelief: Steve Elliott has traded Charlie Alan Kraft to Chris Haberman in exchange for one sincere compliment. The Bad News Bears are no more.

Inspired by the recent Philadelphia Eagles trade of superstar quarterback Donovan McNabb to the Washington Redskins for a draft pick, Elliott felt it was time for a change as well.

“That Eagles trade was like the writing on the wall for me. If they can send a guy who is arguably 100% responsible for their long run of success to a hated, bitter rival, well, why not send Charlie over to Chris? I wouldn’t say he has been a good friend, or even that he will be missed, but he has been a great guy to brainstorm with, bounce ideas off of…

“Nah, really we just hung around on barstools burning through our unemployment checks together. He’s played a huge part in the non-success of Portland City Art (.com), and it won’t be the same without him, for sure. No matter how bad you fuck things up, you can’t help but feel good about yourself when he’s around. Still, though, as the Eagles demonstrated, sometimes you just have to shake things up and start over. I think he will do more harm than good for Haberman, in the long run, and by the end of the year I think you will see that it was a pretty smart fuckin’ move. Who else can say they’ve received a sincere compliment from Habe?”

Charlie Alan Kraft, a founding member of Portland City Art (.com), issued the following statement:

“You know, Steve is a smart guy and everything, and he bought me a lot of beers in the past few years, but I gotta admit, I’m looking forward to getting out of this whole false negativity thing, and getting back to Haberman’s brand of false positivity. I mean, it’s all bullshit right? Might as well make it sound good. Not to mention, there is always plenty of food to go around with Chris. The only time Steve ever fed me, I was sick with food poisoning for a week.”

Chris Haberman, founder of Portland City Art (.org), was unavailable for comment at the time of this writing, but a key insider from Team Haberman (who asked to remain anonymous) filled us in on the biggest mystery of all: What was the compliment that Elliott received in exchange for Kraft?

“Chris told Steve straight up that he really liked the way he wore slacks. There was direct eye contact, it was for real.”

So how will this trade shape the Portland art scene in the coming months? Will Haberman and Kraft be able to put the last few years of venomous animosity behind them and break bean burritos together? Will Elliott be able to find a new conspirator crazy enough to help him realize his plans of working without doing any work, and/or pissing everyone off? Only time will tell, but for now, keep your browser tuned to Portland City Art (.com) for all the latest, greatest, and most heinous happenings in the world of Portland art.

Drama in the Office

"Henry O" Portland City's very own basement dwelling twinkie machine. He is our backdoor to the darkest secrets of the Portland art and political scene.

Rumor has it drama is spreading across the portland art scene, spreading like a thick buttery substance that often gets spread over the mountainous ripples of my backside. If rumors are true then soon Portland could be witness to it’s own cosmic implosion of artistic butt cheese.

Recently while heading up from the basement of well known art non profit group that has a strong hold on the scene I over heard director Chris Haberman speaking on the phone with whom I suspect to be our very own mayor Sam “Teen Chaser” Adams. Though factually I cannot say it was Sam Adams on the phone with Chris Haberman but since I have encountered our Mayor on several occassions speeding behind me with vigor, hands out, tongue flapping and panting like a wet dog until of course I reared my over eighteen head and he swallowed his pride for one moment to say in exhaustion “Sorry I’m training for the CATCH THE TEEN 5K next month.” I realized a familliar sound on the other end of the phone which I recognized as the same deep breathing of our dear mayor, sounds I had heard many times before.

Squirming my way through the hall and huffing up the final step ( Did I mention they don’t build stairwells wide enough for really really fat guys ) My ears hath not deceived me as Chris Haberman spoke in a sweaty voice. “If anyone finds out we run both websites our fine image as artists supporting artists and our community will be tarnished. We’ll be hung, dipped in tar and feathered, not to mention how many less teen boys you’ll be able to sack .” ( Oh, this was the other hint that Sam Adams was on the other line )

Sweat piled up in my under garments. Well what was left of them, in the  least the parts not riding up my gorgeous chunky highway of manliness. I then realized as I swung the door open to reveal the sidewalk outside and the crumbs of Twinkies I had left to help me find my way home, Chris Haberman had said something even I Henry O’ could not believe he said. Muffling his ginormous mouth he whispered “Action needs to take place. We need to take out Tan Peluski and Art Jeanyus. The others will fall if we take down their kings, like Rome Portlandcityart.com will be no more and in the wake of it’s aftermath we will look like heroes in the eyes of the art community,  as long as no one finds out that we started the website in the first place.”

What!!!! How could this be? Two websites? Different staff? all part of a plot to gain control and respect of the community and its innocent artists. I was astonished so I headed to the store for a pound of chicken, three cans of baked beans and a box of twinkies. After totally stuffing my face and exercising my bodies ability to store fat like a god I immediately contacted Tan Peluski. Him and Art Jeanyus invited me to be a member of staff in hopes to somehow put a wrench in this evil plot. I can only hope there isn’t already a rat on the inside, a trojan horse of sorts. Be fore warned, there are dark things happening at portlandcityart.org and our beloved Tan Peluski and Art Jeanyus are the targets of well designed plot to manufacture simpleton artists on their knees begging for another show at the same local venue with no hope for a steady income only commsions and donations offered up in sacrifice to Chris Haberman and his crew of deliquent vigilanties.

First Thursday is Fuckin’ RAD

Art Jeanyus here, back from a world-wide expedition to bring you the latest (and not so latest) news on what’s happening out there in the past, present, and by way of my telepathic powers, the future. I’ve been on what you would call a hiatus ( sorry, I mean gone from work ) and I’ve missed a lot of important things that have been going on in this fine city.

February 8th there is some meeting on Alberta street with the prettiest pedophile with a mayoral position speak to community residents about the Last Thursday fair on Alberta. I really hope everyone goes to this, but sharing your true deep feelings I fear will be washed over by your insecurity of rocking the boat so much you may lose that $75.00 income a month from selling your art here on Alberta street. I’m hoping though there will be a few that stand out at this meeting, people who try to make a point, push that “you can’t stop us” idea. Though I must say the waves any of us make will be swallowed by the fat overweight people in power that just want to pocket what they can from a culture ( umm.. that being you artists ) that already suffer from financial woes…. Oh well, there must plenty of beer and weed to help you forget about your failures after the meeting has passed, and I know ( telepathically ) if you have to pay to show on Alberta you’ll all scrounge together a few bucks to break even while people pass your art on the street and tell you things like:

  • Will you be here all night?
  • I just have to find a cash machine.
  • I love it but I just can’t afford it.
  • Let me ask my wife first.

Admitting that the sales record on Alberta ( and the people involved ) is well below par is simply the first step. Feeling your work is worth something is another step. Sticking with it even though you may have to cut down to three beers a night and one pack of Ramen noodles for dinner. Sacrifice for your art, if it is that important. I wish you all luck, and as I pass through this dimension onto another I look forward to astral-projecting (whoops, I mean doing that blue ghost type thing that Yoda did in Star Wars ) to the scene in hopes for some kind of a surprise from some great artist that just says no. That no might turn into another and then another…..Or I guess maybe I’ll happen across first Thursday somewhere else on my way back through town, with all the fire throwers, corner bands, hippies with bad home made necklaces standing alongside 82nd street. That would be nice! Plenty of good Chinese food around that way.

Sincerely,

Your hostess with the mostest,
intergalactic hero of many talents,
and guru of all that is known and known to be,
including the pleasure centers for all carbon based life-forms…

Art Jeanyus

The Gruesome Artwork of Cathie Joy Young!

Man About Town, Tan Peluskie here. Seriously sobriety is hurtign me more and more each day. My liver screams into my gentiles and then I was taken from my paint with a moderate sigh of relief. Not relief from pain though as I  immediately came across some images that not only caused me pain, oh seriously and they were not of my ex wife but one does look like one of them after a night of drinking.

Folks I’m a serious the colors, the shapes, they put me in disaray. I’ve been confused and sickened for days. Where is my copy of Catcher in the Rye I feel the assasination of my liver coming on. These images have burned there uninteresting for and use of creativity into my eye sockets, no the backs of my eye sockets, seriosuly no my liver can see them. I thought at first is this some government conspiracy? Did the government secretly plant a CIA agaent into portland that is sending us messages of rebelious distaste and desire for that which is not good at all….. Oh my god, it’s true! Seriously I am still hurting, Oh my Hemroid just ruptured or was it my spleen, no I cannot sit down my hemroids are fine. Folks what are we to do. In this case much like any case having to do with my ex wives I must intertwine my article with another and end this with yet another Top Ten Things not do in Portland

  1. purchase Cathie Joy Youngs artwork
  2. purchase Cathie Joy Youngs artwork
  3. purchase Cathie Joy Youngs artwork
  4. Ever ever think of purchasing Cathie Joy Youngs artwork
  5. Ever ever think of telling someone else to purchase Cathie Joy youngs artwork
  6. Walk buy or near the Guardino Gallery until February 23rd. Why you ask? Seriously!
  7. Stay away from the Guardino Gallery people Cathie Joy Young has painting there
  8. No don not go to the Guardino Gallery for Cathie’s show even if there is free booze
  9. Drink free booze somewhere far awat from a Cathie Joy Young painting
  10. Speak of Cathie Joy Youngs paintings…

Seriously folks they will burn hole into the deepest caverns of your rectum and make you feel less of a painter after you’ve recovered fro mthe blinding atrocity of their mirad existance……

You welcome for being your savior, sincerely

Man About Town,
Tan Peluski

The Illicit Fart of Murals – Exploring Matt Stangel’s Prettiest Underwear

Seriously, Tan here to talk about my liver, no really my liver and how it felt after I drank myself silly just to finish Matt Stangel’s article on the prettiest walls in Portland. prettiest walls? Matt the prettiest walls in Portland are in your bedroom painted with our love. Oh seriously. After that poor first paragraph where you regurgitated very little actually information about the Portland/Clear channel law suit It was clear I was in for a literal masterpiece. Really now I stopped to take a look at a photo of my ex wife then realized she was pictured in the photo of the mural at the beggining of your article. Oh seriously she is looking great! Waning sign code era? Wow! My ex wife waned but only when we had sex, Seriously. So with unfiortunate dispair ahead of me I printed out your article at Kinkos and followed your Mural walk through the city. Unbelievable! I found myself now where near the path your article was supposed to send me on, Seriously I must have been drunk! Really I was! After realized your article was becoming a pain in my kidneys I tossed it some guys yard on Belmont and headed for the nearest urgent care, I needed some pain medicine, seriously that painting of my ex wife was really getting to me. Really now nice article, can I have a heart attack now please! Seriously! Where those the only murals in Portland you could find or were those just murals of people you hadn’t bent over for recently and were looking for some brown star points for mentioning their names. Seriously my ex wife gets a brown star but not from me… Seriously she loves it. What is a brown star? Seriously what do you get when you cross a fat guy with Matt Stengal’s mural walk of the prettiest walls in Portland? This ones easy! Seriously just think a bit longer… Keep thinking.. O.k. fine, seriously ” A fat guy wishing he had never walked around looking at all of Matt’s pretty walls cause now he is tired and bored.” Seriously, there are a lot more murals out , good one’s too! Oh seriously and they are not all in SE.. Check out Chris Gayberman’s I mean Haberman’s and Jennifer mercedes on Alberta street at Francis restaurant, 2338 NE Alberta. How about Tom Kramer’s mural on NE williams and Shaver. How about work Klutch has done on the garage door of the Poy Boy art studio/frame shop and the garage door across the street from them. Seriously though I havre to take a dump, your article is goign to make great toilet paper when I am finished. Tan peluski is out of the office and headed on another adventure, really now not with my ex wife. Seriously .. o.k.. really, seriously this is it.. I’m finished..  no really… Matt Stengal like’s Jessie reno’s pubic hair, seriously… No that was joke.. really now…

Ben Pink NO LONGER OWES ME MONEY, part 1

In what can only be described as a STUNNING COINCIDENCE, Ben Pink no longer owes me money. Shortly after I ran the original article Ben Pink OWES ME MONEY, the man himself got in touch with me.

“I will be at the gallery Thursday, and will have a check for you then.”

Give it a minute to sink in… Ben Pink… the same guy I told you was harder to squeeze than a gorilla… owner/operator of Launchpad Gallery (new work by emerging artists, like Chris Haberman)… offering to part with his dear, beloved money. My heart actually stopped beating for a minute or two. Read it again: “…have a check for you…”

What the fuck?

So Thursday finally came, and even though it was clearly some kind of setup, I couldn’t resist. On the way over to  Launchpad I came across an angry little 8-year-old that was mercilessly taunting the elderly.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Today’s Thursday, dumbshit.”

Something occurred to me… Ben Pink and his minions would be far less likely to kidnap and torture me if I was with a little kid. “Hey, you seem like a nice kid. I’ll buy you a Mountain Dew if you come somewhere with me and pretend to be my nephew.” He agreed (obviously! all kids love Mountain Dew), but insisted on payment up-front. So we walked to the store first, then over to the gallery.

Just outside the door to Launchpad, several rough looking types were betting on what appeared to be a kitten fight. One of them looked up at me and frowned. “You were supposed to come alone,” he said quietly like Edward James Olmos. He looked us up and down a few times, and after about five minutes he ushered us over to a blood-stained side door. There was a little pink bucket full of what looked like spare kitty parts next to it. A bird was perched above on the gutter, licking its beak. I started to think that maybe showing up had been a not-so-good idea, in particular bringing the kid with me, but before I could make a run for it the door slid open.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next. Ben Pink himself was sitting there on the toilet taking a shit COMPLETELY NAKED. He looked up with an amazingly wide grin.

“So glad you could make it!” he chirped. “I see you brought a little friend, I love kids! Come here little guy!”

The kid took off.

Ben: “Oh how adorable!”

Me: “So… well… about that check…”

Ben: “Nonsense, my friend! Checks are for disabled people in wheelchairs, how do you feel about cash?”

Me: “Well… whatever’s easiest…”

He reached down to the pants that were rumpled on the floor next to him and pulled out an immaculate velcro wallet. It was black. “Almost there!” He opened the wallet and smelled the inside. “I love it!” He got up and started doing what I’m guessing he might call his money dance. Completely naked.

Me: “So… uhm…”

Ben: “Where are my manners, I forgot you were even there!”

Me: “No problem…”

Ben: “Thanks for waiting!”

Me: “Sure… uhm…”

Ben: “Say the magic word!”

Me: “…”

Ben: “Come on, say it! I love the magic word!”

Me: “Please?”

Ben: “No, the MAGIC word!”

Me: “Pay me?”

Ben: “That’s two words, you big dork! Come on, think MAGIC!”

Me: “Abracadabra?”

As soon as I said it, the wallet disappeared in a small poof of smoke. Ben Pink began hopping and clapping his hands together. “Check your pockets! Check your pockets!” His excitement was scaring me, so I reached in and checked my pockets. Nothing. Just the crap I had when I showed up. I kept digging around, thinking maybe I missed something. Nope.

Me: “Ben… I don’t think the trick worked.”

Ben: “Nonsense!”

Me: “I mean, it was cool how the wallet disappeared, but…”

Ben: “Check your pockets again!”

I checked my pockets again. Nothing.

Ben: “Check your pockets again!”

Me: “Look, man…”

Ben: “Check your pockets again! Pleeease!”

I checked them again. Still empty.

After about the tenth round of the check your pockets game, I decided that no amount of money was worth all of this, so I just said fuck it and started to walk off. Ben Pink ran up behind me (still completely naked) and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Dude, you forgot your money.” His other hand was extended, and was holding a small roll of bills. He was calm all the sudden. “Sorry for putting you through all that just now… You have to admit it was pretty funny, though.” All I could see was the money in his hand. “We’ll should do this again sometime, what do you say?”

“Sure man…” I reached out to grab the money, but before I could get my fingers on it something hit me hard on the back of the head and everything went dark…

TO BE CONTINUED

Until next time,
Bad Habits

People Will Talk @ Launchpad Gallery

Hey honeys! Oh sweethearts, hold on, sorry for the miscommunication. I wasn’t talking funny not cause I don’t like you… I was just rubbing my balls and I had good hard… well, you know in my mouth…. Lol! Only some of you will get that, sweeties, but hey!

In between the time it takes me to bend over some of those well known city officals and your next door neighbors husband, MMMMmmmmmm. I love married men, oh sorry sweeties off the subject. I like to take some time and wander into some Portland art galleries. Oh honey I love it, it gets me wet and hard all at the same time sweeties. I’m smacking my lips just thinking about some art my mangina got all erect over the other day…

I was working my way down a popular Portland street hung over and worn out from the hard nasty I gave some hot guy in an alley and honey let me tell you that nasty was… mmmmmmm. good for me and him. I put his ass pussy where it belonged! Afterwards, sweeties, I went lookin’ for something just as sweet for my eyes… I stumbled into Launchpad Gallery, and oh honey if my pants weren’t already wet I wet them again….. Photos by Mark Wickum, and paintings of photos by Chris Haberman….. I tried to suck a dick for some art but was refused. Then I tried the ol’ I’ll bend you over for one but no one took the bait… Guess I’m just a pay as you need it kinda gyrl… get it sweeties?… Wish I had some of that sweet love on those walls, though, and that artist Chris Haberman, oh sweeties he can bend me over anytime. Loved it all, loved it so much I even gave a trick a freebie I just had to let something of mine explode after all that nasty I saw on those walls.. Nasty is good sweethearts, not bad! It means wholesome gyrl love in my back. Come get nasty with me when you’re free, my treat of course, but only for a hot sexy painting…

Love you sweeties…….
Bosom Bunny…