Jason Brown’s Emergency Facial Hair Removal Procedure Puts Goodfoot Bar in Turmoil!!!

Sources have confirmed that Jason Brown (Goodfoot bar operator, music and art venue coordinator) is set to receive emergency hair removal treatment at Legacy Emanuel Hospital in NE Portland this weekend for an ongoing problem he has had with tremendous uncontrollable facial hair growth.

According to friends and family Jason has been battling with this issue for several years now. Recently he sought treatment in North Korea with Doctor Hoo Long Wie where he was the subject of a new experimental ointment that was supposed to have reduced his hair length by almost half.  Instead, the not yet tested on humans ointment increased his beard length and turned the hair a deep red while also stimulating hair to grow out of every pore on his face.

Reporters caught up with Jason as he left the Legacy Health Center for his first exam and he had this to say.


What exactly he wanted to get out is not yet known, but we expect to hear from him again as doctors at Legacy have promised a full recovery with a clean bill of health. Portland artists, friends, and family are keeping Jason in their prayers tonight as they  all look forward to a new and more formidable man / curator after the surgery.

Fat Cobra Video Incident Report

Edited by the Sheriff’s Department of [COUNTY WITHHELD].
Names of the officers have been removed as they are pending an investigation.

At 6:30am on Tuesday, November 17th 2009 police officers arrived to the scene of Fat Cobra Video in [CITY WITHHELD]. One crazed and visibily intoxicated Tan Peluski was outside alternating between screaming and crying, but became more coherent the closer they came. The officers noticed that he had something that looked like headphones melted to the sides of his head.

“Somebody owes me a drink, seriously. These fucking headphones are melted to my fucking ears!” crazy old Peluski yelled at them. “I can’t hear shit!” He was waving his arms frantically and stomping around, all while balancing a Jack and Coke near his face at all times which he sipped on anytime his mouth wasn’t busy yelling or breathing. One officer moved behind the animated Peluski, to catch him in case he were to lose his balance, or be tackled.

“Sir, now if you would please calm down. Let’s get this thing straightened out here.” The second officer remained calm, while the first had Peluski flanked but was giving off a friendly vibe. Peluski threw his drink at the officer talking, and then turned to spit in the other officer’s eyes before lunging at him with the razor-sharp claws of a professional wild man.

“Make the music stop!” Claw, claw, slash slash. The officer’s face was quickly littered with tiny incisions that would never heal properly, considering the type of filth and bacteria likely to be found populating freely across the vast surfaces of Peluski’s nail system. “Get the tubas out of my head!” He attacked like a ferret, although his claws looked more like the ones you’d see on a possum. “My ex-wife couldn’t give worse head than this shit! Turn it off!”

Officer number one (or was it number two), finally shook off the Jack and Coke and pulled his taser. Whether he knew what would happen after shooting Peluski with the taser remains to be seen. Fact of the matter is, though, Peluski and officer number two (or one) got tasered together, as they were adjoined by the very conductive claws growing out of his fingers and digging into the other’s face. With the combination of rain and spilled drinks, apparently the ground was wet enough that the taser’s effects boomeranged across to incapacitate the officer that fired it as well.

Both officers were knocked out cold. When they awoke, Peluski was gone. All that was left of the decrepid lunatic was a message carved in the face of officer one (or two). It said: “FOTCHA!”

“There is probably going to be a manhunt,” Commissioner Trout speculated. “Nobody gets away with that in my city, cutting up somebody’s face with filthy fingernails. That shit was infected the moment it happened. I mean, we have to clamp down on that, is all I’m saying. At the same time, though, we don’t have a lot of money in the budget for big city-wide manhunts, so we’ll probably just send a couple of the guys that are close to retirement out to the local bars to see if they can dig up any information on his whereabouts. That’s kind of a long explanation, though, so let’s just stick with ‘manhunt’. There is probably going to be one.” The Commissioner has said nothing since that public address.

The following day, a google search was performed on the word: “FOTCHA!”, and it has thusfar yielded no clue as to what caused Tan Peluski to go stark raving mad. Perhaps it will always be a mystery, or perhaps the city will decide to make it a priority and bring the fugitive in. Clearly the man needs our help, but for now it looks like he will be roaming free, and maybe or not, there will be a couple of old, washed up detectives, getting drunk in bars hot on his trail. What does any of this mean? We have no fucking idea.

PortlandCityArt.com ROYAL RUMBLE UPDATE!

Folks, Ladies and hippies… Portland Guys from Eugene to Astoria… Strippers, coffee shop/bar/gallery owners, Richard Spear, Jon Motley and the city of Portland itself.

After a long inner staff war with our current writers (leaving some of them limbless, some of them toothless, and one of them dead on the scene), we are proud to say that our site is back on track. As for the battle, here are some highlights from the rage of bloodshed.

Tan Peluski left early on. Stumbling through a crowd of swinging bats and knives, he took some paperwork, a bottle of Jack and 3 transvestite strippers that Art brought to the staff party as a joke. At this moment, even with all available law enforcement agencies scouring the countryside trying to determine his whereabouts, Tan is still nowhere to be found.

Ten minutes into the fight, the world’s most intelligent man, Art Jeanyus, devised a brilliant plan of escape by tying a group of hippies to a McDonald’s bag, convincing them it was filled with a toxic gas that would kill every bunny in the world. He slipped into the middle of them and made his way through the crowd like a kid in a clothes rack at Kmart. What a man! Two of his roped foes did suffer several knife wounds, but thankfully there was no toxic gas and Art is back on the staff.

Bosom Bunny, our favorite sexy vixen of vivaciousness either left with Tan or left with one of the cops. Either way: go for it guys! Bosom is a special treat! Wink, wink!

Johnson Von Motley was found whispering happy thoughts to Merle the Magnificent after the magician POOFED! his arms away, but thankfully for everyone involved Johnson was OK with that. That guy sure knows how to find the bright side of everything. Motley is back on active duty, and has worked hard to learn how to type with his toes. So have no fear, you won’t miss any good thoughts about everything out there that Portland has to offer… Even crappy art. Oh sorry, Johnson! The great art with stars and flowers bouncing off of it in rainbow colors… Geez, what a load!

In the end, though, as we skip all the stabbing and bats upside heads and legs, Shaggy the Dog and Robert Brian Henry (more commonly referred to as ‘Angry White Guy’) teamed up on our beloved Chuck O. Cheese. In a picturesque type of way, though, I must admit… Robert was screaming about little boys eating popsicles and Shaggy the Dog, well… He was just barking. In what can only be described as an immaculate display of teamwork, Henry and Shaggy delivered a flurry of accurate blows to the fuzzy mouse costumee, and in an ironic twist (considering his stories about little kids’ moms), Chuck O. Cheese “went down”. We thought that would be the end of that, but oh we could not have been more mistaken. Robert Brian Henry approached Cheese from the backside and… Well, pardon my French, but let’s just say our dear mouse was enjoyed in quite an angry way. Simultaneously, Shaggy the Dog ate his head. Not just the costume, the entire thing. Completely. That dog can seriously fucking eat.

So with those two suspended from the staff, Chuck O. Cheese in popsicle boy heaven, and Tan still on the run, we start over this July with the hopes and dreams of bigger, better, and brighter future here at PortlandCityArt.com.

Tan, the Tomorrow Man, if you’re out there, PLEASE COME HOME!!!