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: July
2002 : Erotic City |
Nine
Years of Decadence
Can
you believe it? We're still here! In spite of silly rumors
of our imminent demise (...dream on, Marty), Exotic has
developed into a well-oiled machine. Actually, it's probably
more like a well-lubed twelve-inch dildo that continues
to violate every one of your orifices month after decadent
month. Nine years...that's 108 deadlines we've survived
to bring you the best free mag in the whole freakin' world...local,
national, and we got your globally right here for ya. Exotic
has grown from a horny little tabloid into the predatory
pornographic masterpiece it is today. And oh, Lord, the
changes have been plentiful, lemme tell ya. In the past
nine years, Exotic has sparred with a competitor
or two in our quest to produce the Northwest's leading erotic-entertainment
publication. We've seen 'em come, and we've seen 'em go
to jail. But the test of time is telling the tale. While
our remaining adversary continues to waste away into eventual
oblivion, Exotic has reached new
levels of quality and excellence. The new era of Exotic
is upon us. Whereas the former publisher of T 'n'
A Times found God, we found Goad. And so began the revolution.
Covergirl
Wars 
Episode
II Attack of the Dolls
A
long time ago...in a strip club way too far away...
It seemed
like a good idea at the time. About two years ago, Exotic
agreed to hold a contest and put our sacred and much-sought-after
magazine cover up for grabs as the prize. To make it more
interesting, we thought we could drag it out for about ten
weeks in order to build to a better climax. Contests went
on for two consecutive years at Jody's Bar & Grill
without too many complications or injuries. A second-place
runner-up punched the winner in the face; a judge or two
got slapped; and I found new and exciting ways to make almost
every one of the competitors hate me. After surviving two
years of Jody's contests, we came to the decision that the
contest needed a rest. I guess we forgot to tell Rick Kallis.
This notorious promotional whiz-kid (currently of Stars
Cabaret, formerly of The Viewpoint, Exotica, Roc's
Dollhouse, and Stars Cabaret) resurrected the
contest before a proper burial had even been arranged. The
last contest wrapped up last month at the Dollhouse. Unfortunately,
Rick was no longer employed at the Dollhouse when the contest
came to its fiery conclusion. Ten very attractive girls
competed for last month's cover and a cash prize of $1000.
So who won? Well, I really can't tell you that; however,
I can tell you who lost. Everyone lost. To all the
girls
who competed, you were all topnotch. Each entertainer gave
a truly outstanding performance, but unfortunately, The
Dollhouse itself could stand a
few lessons in contest integrity, not to mention some basic
accounting skills, as in, whatever happened to the $1000
the "winner" was
supposed
to receive? The winner of the contest was announced, but
she never made it to our cover due to political sabotage
on the club's part. Maybe all this had something to do
with the Dollhouse's revolving-door employment policy.
Several former employees of one of my favorite clubs,
Doc's Bar and Grill, are now holding the reins
of this club, and if past experience serves me well, stay
tuned for the final chapter in this trilogy, Episode
III--Attack of the Alcoholic Dolls.
Return
of the Covergirl with a Bad Attitude...
and a bad day for Jacob
Which
brings us to the "final" Exotic Covergirl Contest,
which just wrapped up this month at Stars Cabaret and
led to this month's covergirl, Adrianne. You might remember
the story of Adrianne where we exposed the statement she
made via e-mail concerning her first appearance in the
mag last summer: "Every time I see your shitty magazine
I throw it in the trash where it belongs. I will NEVER
appear in your fucked-up magazine again!" Ironically,
she eventually would become the only woman ever
to appear twice on our cover in a six-month period (without
sleeping with an Exotic employee, that is). Adrianne
conquered all others in the Stars Contest that was organized
by--guess who?--Rick Kallis, now once again of Stars Cabaret.
Does this mean Rick is starting his new "World Tour" of
Portland's most elite strip clubs? We'll keep you posted
about where we can find Rick next month. But hats off
to the dude for still being employed at the completion
of this contest.
Now
while we're on the subject of Rick, I have to share something
with you that was just too damned hilarious to leave out.
Rick and I were sharing a few too many cocktails following
a photo shoot one night, and he chose to leak a bit of
information about an ex-girlfriend of his, and the stupid
things people do during the process of falling in and
out of love under the influence of alcohol. Now when he
told me this, I reminded him that I was the writer of
one of what has turned into a mudslingin' gossip column,
and he might wanna be careful about what he mentions to
me. We recently received an email from Rick expressing
his concern as to how he might be presented in print concerning
the unfortunate demise of his ex-girlfriend's pet goldfish.
The following is that email. No embellishments were made,
though a few slight edits were made to protect the innocent:
I
worry that some will think me somewhat insensitive to
animal cruelty should word leak out of the goldfish-blending
incident. I would like to point out that I have a cat
which has survived my care in good health for the past
three years,
and
has never, at any time, been threatened with death or
harm should the affections of any past girlfriend cease
to exist.
The
execution of Jacob the Goldfish was carried out in a
humane manner that may have violated several state and
local laws pertaining to the humane treatment of mammals.
However, I do not believe these laws extend to fishes,
even those kept as pets. The following
is my account of Jacob's
last hours...
After
a long night of drinking propelled to an unusually high
level by rumors concerning my ex-girlfriend, I returned
home and turned my vengeance on Jacob the Goldfish,
who was living in my tank after being rescued by my
ex once she discovered his fate as a feeder goldfish.
For months, this fish became a symbol of our relationship.
When my intoxicated and blurry vision noticed his shape
moving in the tank that night, the alcohol in my veins
caught fire. Jacob the Goldfish had just reached judgment
day!
4:00am:
After several slurring voice messages to the ex, I informed
her of Jacob's eventual demise, and that his death was
totally and completely her fault--
I was merely the instrument of destruction.
4:20am:
after about a half hour of chasing Jacob with the net,
I separated him into an Osterman Industrial blender.
Its ten sharp blades with a manufacturer's warranty
of ten years would serve well as a death chamber.
4:25am:
Jacob was fed a last meal of Tetra Goldfish flakes.
4:26am:
The verdict was read.
4:27am:
After opening a Coors Light, sentence was carried out.
With a whir of the 500-watt industrial blender, Jacob
disappeared into a reddish blur. I left it on for a
full two minutes, then poured the remains onto my plants.
With a mere press of a button, I was over my ex. While
I must admit this was an unconventional method, there
was a definite therapeutic effect to the entire proceedings.
And my plants have never looked better!
Way
to go, Rick. You told me this story last month, and
I hid the truth from the public. But once I saw this
email, I laughed my ass into tears so hard that I lost
a contact lens. Your documentation of Jacob's execution
was too well-written to pass up.
Miss
Nude Oregon and the World's Best Wrap-Up 
The
Dolphin II wrapped up the return of the notorious
Miss Nude Oregon pageant last month. And the
winner is...Asia from the Dolphin II. Now I know what
you're thinking, and I've heard the comments. Sure,
maybe a girl from The Dolphin II did win. And maybe
that seems a little suspicious. But we're talking about
Asia here. The same Asia we chose as a covergirl last
August. We knew this babe had stellar qualities last
year; now the rest of you all know what we've known
for quite some time. Congrats to Asia and the Dolphin
II.
Another
contest came to a rather thrilling close right in the
middle of deadline, The "World's Best" competitions
at Union Jacks. Best Boobs went to Londyn, Best
Poleworker to Stahr, Best Booty to Cookie, and the World's
Best Exotic Entertainer went to Mystique Knight. Certain
suspicions were immediately brought up concerning Mystique's
family ties to Union Jacks' management. First off, I
have witnessed this girl's performances for years now,
and on a slow night at Jody's, I've seen her bust her
ass harder than most nineteen-year olds ever come close
to. She is, without a doubt, worthy of her many titles.
As for her family ties, he wasn't even a part of the
scoring process, nor did he control the judges in any
way. I myself examined the final scores, and it was
very nice to see a legitimate, and very well-organized,
contest take place. There is still hope for us all perhaps.
My
Name is Spooky...and I'm a Pornographer
So
I'm sitting on my couch drinking a Heineken and savoring
some of Oregon's finest herbal remedy at about 5:00 in
the morning. As I watch three of Centerfold Suites'
incredibly hot lingerie models packing up everything
I own into neat little boxes, I suddenly realize that
life is pretty fucking good. Yeah, sure...there are some
minor details that I could do without. Like the fact that
I was supposed to be moved out two days ago. Not to mention
that I have no idea where I'm moving. Or the disturbing,
yet convenient situation that my ex-girlfriend was kind
enough to take nearly 80% of everything in the house when
she moved out a couple of weeks ago. OK, maybe that part
kind of sucked. Especially when you consider that she
fucked my brains out the night before, cuddled up to me
the next morning, and gave me a kiss goodbye as I left
for a double shift at Soobie's. Then she marched
in a troop of discount Mexican movers as soon as I left
to pack up everything and escape off into the night. She
paid about four hundred bucks to commandeer her merry
band of moving muchachos. Not only did my lovely
Centerfold Suitehearts pack up my entire house in less
than four hours, they refused any monetary compensation,
and on top of it, I got to jack off after each room in
the house was cleaned out. Which brings me back to this
epiphany...I'm a Pornographer... AND I LOVE IT!!! Over
the past few months, I've used this column on occasion
to make all of you aware of this job's undesirable elements.
But I've failed to mention that sometimes this job just
fuckin' rocks. It makes me proud to be a pornographer.
Exotic's
9th Anniversary Party Monday, Aug 12th at Stars Cabaret!
CALENDAR
OF EVENTS
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