The blows befalling Justin Timberlake of late are—blessedly—relentless, it seems. Following his DWI in Sag Harbor, in which he refused a breathalyzer three times and failed to crip walk in a straight line, the singer has not only been thoroughly meme'd but been forced to cancel a few dates on his "ruined" world tour due to poor sales. Talk about one martini too many... This week, things got that much worse for Timberlake: an artist (never revoke his artistic license, officer) turned his mugshot into an Andy Warhol-esque portrait entitled, "Tuesday Night featuring Justin Timberlake," which is now on sale at a local gallery in the Suffolk County village. Paging Janet Jackson: You have the opportunity to aid karma in her Timberlake-targeted warpath and purchase all of them to autograph and then resell for a literal fortune. Or, throw it straight in your fireplace. Whichever! "My reaction was, ‘Oh my God!’ That’s great! It’s just great!” Romany Kramoris, the owner of the gallery of the same name, told Page Six. Leslie Raff, another employee at the gallery added, “[Timberlake’s recent mugshot] is our most contemporary piece! It’s au courant.” Timberlake must be thrilled. No, seriously. It's the first time he's been referred to as trendy in some time. “The green one is not my favorite," Kramoris added. "He looks a little sickly, too many martinis on the green one." Gagged him, honestly. According to Kramoris, though, some stuffy residents aren't thrilled by it since an endless queue of people have lined up to take a peek at the portrait—which is available in multiple color versions—and snap pictures. Personally, I'd pay more just to witness that than I would a ticket for his tour. And, as it turns out, a handful of people are actually purchasing it, too. The piece is priced at $520 (the kind of change Sag Harbor residents find in their couch cushions, to be clear), and the gallery has sold “two or three” so far, but currently has “a lot of people" considering it. Kramoris plans to keep the pieces for sale until summer's end—you know, when our great nation's one percent who have enough cash to splash out on a sad portrait of a sauced and sullied pop star go back to the city. In the meantime, if anyone would like to sponsor a field trip for me to go get a good look, I'd appreciate it.
