Basement File: Tour guide

Good afternoon. My name is Joe Turnbull and I'll be your guide today. First, I'd ask that everyone look at their ticket stub and make sure there's a red A in the lower left corner. If you see a B, you're part of the 2:15 tour that begins in the East Wing. Okay, are we all set?

Okay. First, a couple of words about the Max and Aardina Tamberlin Museum itself. As you probably know, Max Tamberlin was the founder of the Arapaho Oil Co. As a bachelor, Tamberlin showed very little interest in the arts. In fact, he collected exotic cars and sports memorabilia, as would any man with money and sense.

But all that changed in 1967. While on business in Amsterdam, Max met Aardina Fortlifh, a former model and prick-tease who would soon have his balls in a modern-art vise for the next 30 years. Naturally, Max never knew what hit him. Over time, Aardina would use her considerable charm and the overwhelming power of a certain female organ to talk Max into pretending to be interested in art, both classic and modern.

Okay, as we make our way through the atrium, you'll see a big-ass statue of a naked chick with wings. You can stare at it if you want, but they think the marble's giving off radon. Also, the chick's pretty fat. It's your call.

Now, when we enter the hall of old shit, you'll be seeing a lot of security guards. They're from the same temp agency as me, but they tested too stupid to be tour guides. But they do get to wear guns, which is pretty cool. Okay, this first thing is by Tintoretto and it sucks. Let's just keep walking. This picture is by some guy named Fra Angelico and I don't know if it could blow any harder.

Okay, this one's pretty cool. This Greek guy's all pissed off and he's holding this guy's cut-off head and the dead guy's got worms for hair. At least it's bloody and shit. I like how the dead guy's head is still screaming. That's bad-ass. Sure, you can touch it. I mean, it's dry and everything.

Okay, this one sucks. This one sucks. Boring. Boring. Naked people in the forest. Boring. Uh, what's next? This is Caravaggio's "Death of the Virgin." Dude, if she's still warm, I'd grab some of that stuff. No sense wasting that, know what I'm saying? Hell, yes.

This is Botticelli. Cool name, crap artist. You're supposed to notice Botticelli's use of color, whatever that means. Okay, stuck-up nobleman dude from Hans Holbein. What? I don't know, I think it's acrylic. Well, if they didn't have it back then, why'd you ask? Did you read up on Holbein so you could come here and show off today? Feel like a big man, now?

Okay, this is Bronzino, who I can't stand. Actually, this next one's pretty cool. This is a guy named Claude Lorrain. Note here how Lorrain uses perspective to make things seem bigger in the front. Are you seeing that? Like the buildings in the back are smaller and the roofs get all slanty? Pretty amazing, huh? Dude had a gift, man.

There's some Rembrandt over in that corner, but it's just dark as shit. You're not missing much. I guess if everybody's ready, we'll move on to the modern...oh, great, look at that asshole still staring at the Holbein. "Oh, look at me. I'm the great art prick. Only I can truly appreciate what the rest of you stroll by in ignorance. Look how I stand really far back and take in the whole painting. I don't understand this painting any better than you do, but I'll stand here until someone notices me lingering, grows afraid that they've missed something, and comes to look at it over my shoulder. Only then will I move on, but not until I've let out a great moaning sigh of deep artistic kinship. Please, someone kick my ass."

Okay, we gotta walk through this idiotic Richard Serra thing. Ooooh, I'm all disoriented by the undulating steel. This is supposed to be a commentary on something. Probably us and how stupid we are. But not so stupid that we paid $3.2 million for it. Unbelievable.

Once we get in the modern wing, there's not that many paintings left. It's mostly torn-up dolls and shit. Okay, this one's pretty well-known. This is Edward Hopper's "Nighthawks." I got this one at home, except mine's got James Dean, Marilyn Monroe AND a strip of neon on it. Thirty-nine bucks at Prints Plus. I'm sorry, but it's way better.

This whole wall is Jasper Johns, Pollack, Diebenkorn and Jeff Koons. None of it's worth a shit, but you might want to stop and look 'cause this is as normal as it gets from here on out. This is a Mapplethorpe print. Everybody pretends not to look at it longer, but let's face it, that's a significant hunk of choad on that dude.

Okay, don't say I didn't warn you about this Cindy Sherman doll. Are you believing this? Buddy of mine at school drew something like this on his locker and got suspended for a week. I don't know...I don't get art sometimes.