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…
Now I’m not one to point the finger, but Ben Pink (aka Ben Pinkowitz), of Portland’s Launchpad Gallery, is a cheap ass dodgy bastard when it comes to paying for artwork. Not only will he try to pay you as little as possible (since he’s a starving gallery owner), but when he does pay you, it will never be the entire amount. He’ll just give you whatever loose bill happens to be in his pocket. Then he’ll cry to his friends about how they’ll have to buy him drinks cause some mean Portland artist insisted on being paid for their artwork. “Oh, poor, poor me,” he will cry. “I just can’t make ends meat running a gallery in Portland. I am so broke… sob.”
Ben Pink will have you believe that it is YOUR responsibility to make sure he pays you. Chase him down endlessly until somehow you manage to run into him. Then you gotta back him into a corner, after which you must find someone that can lift him up by his feet and shake him up-and-down until whatever scraps he hasn’t palmed away in his greasy little hands drops to the floor. Then he will say, “We’re even now?”
“No, you still owe me.”
“Oh, ok! Glad you’re keeping track, cause I’m not!” Why would Ben Pink keep track of how much money he owes you? It’s all up to you, the artist who should feel grateful that Ben Pink was pleased by your work enough to not pay for it.
Ben Pink… I attended his Love Show back in March, knowing that he would be there, still owing me money. I finally found him over by the kegs directing beer traffic. When I asked Mr. Cheapskate, “Hey, how about buying me a beer?” do you know what he said?