Gas Bag Man

The winged wonder rags on dead Republi-con Jeff Groscost, Tempe's "PG clause," and Dr. Sketchy's anti-art lameness

None of this was the case with P-town's Dr. Sketchy, which on the Sunday The Bird visited featured the less-than-gorgeous Amy Austin as a model, decked out like a zombie geisha in the snow, munching blood pellets, and drooling fake blood like a scene out of Saw III. This part was amusing enough, though Austin made drawing her boyish frame near impossible by moving all over the place, hissing like a Madagascar cockroach as she went. She also had to break character once to ask organizer Matt Dickson to get off his duff and fix the skipping CD of industrial mood music she had playing.

For the record, Austin doffed her top, but little else. Odd, as Trunk Space cadet Carrico claimed that, as there's no alcohol available, "We could have nude life models if we wanted to as long as everyone's over 18." Er, then why not go for it, Steph? "That isn't in the spirit of Dr. Sketchy," she asserted.

Hmmm, what is, then — death by dullsville? According to Carrico, yes! "It's kind of boring — nothing weird has ever happened," she confessed to this warbling Warhol. "Basically, people show up and draw just like life drawing in college."

Maybe Dr. Sketchy's better in Brooklyn or London, but the PHX franchise flops like a beached pelican. There weren't even any cuckoo contests, just a lazy-assed raffle overseen by artist Rachel Bess, who's got Zoolander's "one look" down pat, and has been known to crack a smile once a decade. Sheesh, all The Bird got was a gander at wild-woman Austin's A-cups! Screw this cheese. This winged Whistler's goin' back to art college where it can finally have some freakin' fun.

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