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22 December 2023
A Message from Vincienzo Giuseppe Baggadonuts, Creative Talent Representative
Hello, friends. My name is Vinnie Baggadonuts. You might remember me from such articles as “My Article”, or my Eisner Award-winning comic, “My Comic”. When I’m not busy breaking new comedic ground with my typically uber-intellectual gobbledy-goo, I’m a Creative Talent Representative. An agent.
At present, my most popular client is America’s androgynous son, Debenski St. Sinclair, or, as they call him in the Turkish bathhouses of Nepal, “Debbie”. Yes, that Debbie. The one who makes all the pretty pictures for tastes like chicken. The one who brings his transgendered handiwork to the luscious pages of Venus. The one who puckered his controversial diva lips, and kissed both Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears.
But there’s a sad side to Debbie you don’t get to see. For too long now, Debenski has lived in the large-assed shadow of artist and collaborator David Crosland (PLUG: hiredmeat.com). Both Dave and Debbie embarked on their artistic web venture together, but, alas, it is Dave and Dave alone who reaps the rewards.
Be it gallery show or comic convention, Dave and Debbie arrive together, but Debbie always leaves alone. Dave is what some might call a “pussy magnet”. A pimp. A player. A baster amidst no shortage of turkey to baste, if you catch what I’m spreadin’. I can’t even begin to count all the nights the three of us would head on out to some hip concert venue or 7-11, only to return Dave-less.
As a Creative Talent Representative, it is my responsibility to make sure my clients are amply sexually satisfied. Therefore, I beg of you, merciful women of the world: PLEASE HAVE SEX WITH DEBBIE!
I mean, that’s the end goal. Just simply keeping him company would be cool, too. Maybe a little make-out session by the river; a happy feel-up by the lake. He’s got all the required prophylactics and lubricants. He also has an assortment of fruit/candy-flavored body oils and creams. He has a reasonably sized member, that elongates and thickens slightly upon arousal. And when you are done, he will smoke a cigarette with you before he waits for you to fall asleep again so he can leave.
I ask you again, beautiful women of Earth: allow Debbie in to your pastel sanctuary. Let him taste the fruits of God’s labors. Let him fill you with the natural ink of a real artist. Let him show you why the Denver Bronco cheerleaders call him “Mile High St. Sinclair”.
Gratitude,
- Vincienzo G. Baggadonuts, Creative Talent Representative
Hello, friends. My name is Vinnie Baggadonuts. You might remember me from such articles as “My Article”, or my Eisner Award-winning comic, “My Comic”. When I’m not busy breaking new comedic ground with my typically uber-intellectual gobbledy-goo, I’m a Creative Talent Representative. An agent.
At present, my most popular client is America’s androgynous son, Debenski St. Sinclair, or, as they call him in the Turkish bathhouses of Nepal, “Debbie”. Yes, that Debbie. The one who makes all the pretty pictures for tastes like chicken. The one who brings his transgendered handiwork to the luscious pages of Venus. The one who puckered his controversial diva lips, and kissed both Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears.
But there’s a sad side to Debbie you don’t get to see. For too long now, Debenski has lived in the large-assed shadow of artist and collaborator David Crosland (PLUG: hiredmeat.com). Both Dave and Debbie embarked on their artistic web venture together, but, alas, it is Dave and Dave alone who reaps the rewards.
Be it gallery show or comic convention, Dave and Debbie arrive together, but Debbie always leaves alone. Dave is what some might call a “pussy magnet”. A pimp. A player. A baster amidst no shortage of turkey to baste, if you catch what I’m spreadin’. I can’t even begin to count all the nights the three of us would head on out to some hip concert venue or 7-11, only to return Dave-less.
As a Creative Talent Representative, it is my responsibility to make sure my clients are amply sexually satisfied. Therefore, I beg of you, merciful women of the world: PLEASE HAVE SEX WITH DEBBIE!
I mean, that’s the end goal. Just simply keeping him company would be cool, too. Maybe a little make-out session by the river; a happy feel-up by the lake. He’s got all the required prophylactics and lubricants. He also has an assortment of fruit/candy-flavored body oils and creams. He has a reasonably sized member, that elongates and thickens slightly upon arousal. And when you are done, he will smoke a cigarette with you before he waits for you to fall asleep again so he can leave.
I ask you again, beautiful women of Earth: allow Debbie in to your pastel sanctuary. Let him taste the fruits of God’s labors. Let him fill you with the natural ink of a real artist. Let him show you why the Denver Bronco cheerleaders call him “Mile High St. Sinclair”.
Gratitude,
- Vincienzo G. Baggadonuts, Creative Talent Representative
artid
1769
Old Image
6_3_debbie.jpg
issue
vol 6 - issue 03 (nov 2003)
section
stories