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	<title>Portland City Art &#187; kitten fights</title>
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	<link>http://www.portlandcityart.com</link>
	<description>commentary on the City of Portland&#039;s art scene</description>
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		<title>Ben Pink NO LONGER OWES ME MONEY, part 1</title>
		<link>http://www.portlandcityart.com/2009/04/18/ben-pink-saga-1/</link>
		<comments>http://www.portlandcityart.com/2009/04/18/ben-pink-saga-1/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 18 Apr 2009 09:46:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Bad Habits</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Curators]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ben Pink]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chris Haberman]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[kitten fights]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Launchpad Gallery]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[magic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mountain Dew]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.portlandcityart.com/?p=144</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[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..."]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="attachment_141" class="wp-caption alignright" style="width: 216px"><img class="size-full wp-image-141" title="Ben Pink #2" src="http://www.portlandcityart.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/pinkunicycle.jpg" alt="You might think this is Ben Pink, but he actually has amazing balance and would never fall off his unicycle!" width="206" height="272" /><p class="wp-caption-text">You might think this is Ben Pink, but he actually has amazing balance and would never fall off his unicycle!</p></div>
<p>In what can only be described as a <strong>STUNNING COINCIDENCE</strong>, Ben Pink no longer owes me money. Shortly after I ran the original article <a href="http://www.portlandcityart.com/2009/04/13/ben-pink-owes-me-money/" target="_self">Ben Pink OWES ME MONEY</a>, the man himself got in touch with me.</p>
<p><strong>&#8220;I will be at the gallery Thursday, and will </strong><strong>have a check for you then.&#8221;</strong></p>
<p>Give it a minute to sink in&#8230; Ben Pink&#8230; the same guy I told you was harder to squeeze than a gorilla&#8230; owner/operator of Launchpad Gallery (new work by emerging artists, like Chris Haberman)&#8230; offering to part with his dear, beloved money. My heart actually stopped beating for a minute or two. Read it again:<strong> &#8220;&#8230;have a check for you&#8230;&#8221;</strong></p>
<p>What the fuck?</p>
<p>So Thursday finally came, and even though it was clearly some kind of setup, I couldn&#8217;t resist. On the way over to  Launchpad I came across an angry little 8-year-old that was mercilessly <strong>taunting the elderly</strong>.</p>
<p>&#8220;Shouldn&#8217;t you be in school?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Today&#8217;s Thursday, <em>dumbshit</em>.&#8221;</p>
<p>Something occurred to me&#8230; Ben Pink and his minions would be far less likely to <strong>kidnap and</strong> <strong>torture me </strong>if I was with a little kid. &#8220;Hey, you seem like a nice kid. I&#8217;ll buy you a Mountain Dew if you come somewhere with me and pretend to be my nephew.&#8221; 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.</p>
<p>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. <em>&#8220;You were supposed to come alone,&#8221; </em>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 <strong>blood-stained side door</strong>. 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, <strong>licking its beak</strong>. 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.</p>
<p>Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next. Ben Pink himself was sitting there on the toilet taking a shit <strong>COMPLETELY NAKED</strong>. He looked up with an amazingly wide grin.</p>
<p>&#8220;So glad you could make it!&#8221; he chirped. &#8220;I see you brought a little friend, I love kids! Come here little guy!&#8221;</p>
<p>The kid took off.</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Oh how adorable!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;So&#8230; well&#8230; about that check&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Nonsense, my friend! Checks are for disabled people in wheelchairs, how do you feel about cash?&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Well&#8230; whatever&#8217;s easiest&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>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. &#8220;Almost there!&#8221; He opened the wallet and smelled the inside. &#8220;I love it!&#8221; He got up and started doing what I&#8217;m guessing he might call his money dance. Completely naked.</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;So&#8230; uhm&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Where are my manners, I forgot you were even there!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;No problem&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Thanks for waiting!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Sure&#8230; uhm&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Say the magic word!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Come on, say it! I love the magic word!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Please?&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;No, the <strong>MAGIC </strong>word!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Pay me?&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;That&#8217;s two words, you big dork! Come on, think <strong>MAGIC</strong>!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Abracadabra?&#8221;</p>
<p>As soon as I said it, the wallet disappeared in a small poof of smoke. Ben Pink began hopping and clapping his hands together. &#8220;Check your pockets! Check your pockets!&#8221; 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.</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Ben&#8230; I don&#8217;t think the trick worked.&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Nonsense!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;I mean, it was cool how the wallet disappeared, but&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Check your pockets again!&#8221;</p>
<p>I checked my pockets again. Nothing.</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Check your pockets again!&#8221;</p>
<p>Me: &#8220;Look, man&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>Ben: &#8220;Check your pockets again! Pleeease!&#8221;</p>
<p>I checked them again. Still empty.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>&#8220;Dude, you forgot your money.&#8221; His other hand was extended, and was holding a small roll of bills. He was calm all the sudden. &#8220;Sorry for putting you through all that just now&#8230; You have to admit it was pretty funny, though.&#8221; All I could see was the money in his hand. &#8220;We&#8217;ll should do this again sometime, what do you say?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Sure man&#8230;&#8221; 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&#8230;</p>
<h3>TO BE CONTINUED</h3>
<p>Until next time,<br />
Bad Habits</p>
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