You know, you are a pretty awesome person. You are fun, sweet, interesting, and I love the way you dress. It's so cool that you're artistic and that you mutually inspire each other. Because of that, now you are in my house constantly. When I don't hear you or see you, I have to hear about you. You sound like elmo after one am, and your loud giggles and shrieks make me want to pull out your hair so I can shove it down your windpipe. Your awesome shit is spread all over my house, and I am about to lose mine. You don't even live with anyone, so take your asses to your place, because I'm not fucking you, I'm not being paid to work with you, you aren't paying rent to welcome the space invasion, and you aren't my friend, so get some manners and go home once and a while. Oh, and roommate, who I dearly love, I take care of my animal and am sensitive to your space with it. NOW TAKE THE FUCK CARE OF YOURS.
As a society we learn different things from different people along the way. Over the last few years I have come to realize that it is our grandparents that that influence us the most, at an early age, in the realm of manners, etiquette, and all-around nicely-ness. I firmly believe that if we had all paid more attention to them when we should have the world would be a better place.
That being said I would like to urn the specter of my grandmother’s eye to some glaring breaches I have noticed as of late at my gym:
1) Ladies: Your home, the truck of your car, or a locker in the locker room, are all far more convenient places to leave your purse. There is absolutely no reason, in all of creation, that you need to schlep your big bag of jangly bits and pieces from the stair machine, to the tread mill, to the elliptical machine.
2) Gentlemen: Its not that hot in here. You will not spontaneously combust. You really should leave your shirt on until you get all the way into the locker room. Do you know how much sweat you just flung onto people as you walked by them peeling off your shirt with that much flourish? Neither do I. But from the looks on their faces it was 100% more than they were expecting.
[EDITOR'S NOTE: This rant continues after the jump.]
Calling All Portland Area Indians (Dot, not Feather)
Is that considered offensive? Well, it gets worse: I'll settle for any person (or small family) of South Asian descent - or anybody at all who has ever spent considerable time in South Asia - who can cook anything that we can laughably call Indian food.
For the love of Krishna and all that is good, please oh please open a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant on NE Alberta Street anywhere between 15th and 33rd avenues. There is a giant culinary sucking sound on Alberta Street and it's called casual Indian food.
Do you know what Alberta Street does not need? Not even the tiniest bit? More Thai food. Stop it with the Thai food. We don't need more "traditional Thai cuisine," we don't need more "nouvelle Thai cuisine," we don't need more "Thai-Inspired tapas" and we don't even need a Thai food cart. What we need is basic Indian food. Good old stick-to-your-second-chakra curries, vegetables, rice, garlic naan, etc.
I swear on a stack of Upanishads that if you open a simple, unpretentious, reasonably-priced Indian restaurant on Alberta Street, all my friends and I will be there every night ordering bengan bartha, mango chutney and Kingfisher beers until the sacred cows come home.
Through your hands I wield hate
Through your intentions I create power over others
Through your actions I create endless suffering
Through your religions I lose my spirit and my god
Through your culture I become an automaton, forever stifling creativity
Through your schools I profess my manifesto of ignorance
Through your laws I take freedom from others
Through your choices I lose humanity and silence intelligence
Through your eyes I see my own empty heart
These are the lessons you teach and I have allowed it, so that I may carry your legacy forward
dear x, i'm sure you'll not be pleased. although you've hurt me terribly, i'm not doing this to hurt you back. i published the e-mail new seasons outraged me with @ portland.indymedia.org to show the world their blatant hypocrisy. i published your threats to show you i can't be scared away. i'm publishing this story because of your girlfriend's continuous and slanderous public defamation of my character - even after she got everything she wanted - and you have moved away to canada! people can think whatever they want to about me - but i'd prefer for it to be factually based and not on the lies and false accusations of others. i've been verbally harassed and physically assaulted by y; she is not a nice person! i think that you really suck right now too - but i know you very well; i choose to remember what is very best about you. i also forgive you. you know me very well, too - you must know by now - that i'll always stand up for my rights - i'll always defend my code of honor - i will always be truthful. this is me being who i have always been. i hope that you can by sympathetic - think of everything that the two of you have put me through! what new seasons market has tried to do to me! i hope that someday you'll offer me a better apology than - "i'm sorry it had to end this way." it didn't have to end this way and it's still not too late for you to make things right. it's your move... i'll always love you very much. i am your friend - your friend forever. peace x - with love - z.
It's really cool that despite the shit-state of our economy, you're still raking in the cash. It's also truly impressive that you've managed to buy up a staggering portion of the residential Hollywood district. Having every resident in the area worried about spontaneous eviction must greatly please you. And since you're a bunch of flaming dickheads, it must also bring you great joy to be in a constant state of huge construction projects for over TWO FUCKING YEARS on one of the busiest commuter streets in Northeast Portland. Thanks for not only making both vehicle and pedestrian traffic hazardous and annoying, but also for treating everyone in a 20-block radius to your infuriatingly loud and obnoxious construction noise beginning at 6 AM every day, for the last 24 months. Seriously, what fucking piece of machinery needs to make eardrum crushing BEEEEEP noises for six straight hours? Why do I need to hear it from a half mile away? Surprise, not everybody is awake that early and not everybody is capable of sustaining that kind of noise without going batshit crazy. I'm going to follow you fuckers home one night, park outside your house, wait till you fall asleep, then lay on my horn for a few hours. All of your neighbors fucking hate you. Please die.
All yall. How long have you been too fucking cool to be cool? What happened? I know. Somebody thought you were hip and had it going on with style, edge, and a shit load of resistance...right? Game over and you knew the score instantly, didn't you? As soon as you were mentioned in the conversation of "cool" you were done. What a sad dilemma you endure, trying to create, inspire, and carve a line in the cultural edge of a city like Portland. You're so worried about being "too hip" and "cliche" that you HAVE to hate. Who eats at 'yada yada'? Who bikes with "blah, blah, blah"? Who works for 'sucky sucky'? Get out of this scene before it's too late. But, Where do you go after Portland?,... Not to be cool, but to be your fucking dirty awesome self. Don't tell anyone where you're going, cuz "they" will come for you and "lather, rinse, repeat" and you'll be in the same situation. The coolest dude you know
You: tall, skinny, a-sexual
Me: asleep, unsuspecting, vulnerable
You: overly fascinated with inserting scientific medical instruments into anuses for data collecting
Me: vaguely unfamiliar psychologically traumatizing asshole memories
Conclusions: The next time you abduct unsuspecting intellectually inferior intelligent life you might consider leaving better impressions by A) being less creepy B) when inserting objects into asshole, also consider collecting semen by a orgasmic-ly satisfying method C) try adding some color to your medical lab; it’s way too brooding and Finally) try a little style; no one wants to one day wake up remembering your long, skinny, a-sexual, pale countenance…
I wish you knew how bat-shit crazy and self-absorbed you are. I tried to be your friend. Do you remember? You were excited at first and I think you could use a friend. But you were too self-righteous, a liar and took a big dump on me instead. You thought you knew me but you have no clue who I am and neither does the one who negatively influenced your perspective. Your loss. I was excited when I heard you moved. I thought you had moved on in life and were ready to make new friends but that didn't quite work out did it? And now you are back sucking the life out of that same old group. Grow up and get a life. It's time. And for fuck sake move the fuck out of my city and stay gone please...
TO THE "PUSH-PUSH-GO!!!" SKATER WHO "BUZZED" MY ASS ON SUN. SEPT 19 AT APPROX 5:33 A.M.: There was space for about six, maybe seven people walking abreast on that bridge's sidewalk — no-one around — and STILL you had to make a point of narrowly missing me, so that I felt the breeze of your amateur-hour, "Dogtown" wanna-be ass cruising right by me? You SUCK because: (1) you're not even trying to be good at what you do; (2) you fail to realize that you're going to keep "upping the ante" in misdirected ways such as this, if you continue "skating" w/o improving your chops at a skate-park, abandoned factory, or similar non-pedestrian-but-demanding-area; and (3) putting other people at risk for physical harm — however, um, "minor" YOU may deem it to be — opens the door to certain "interactions" which may ensue. TO WIT: I actually followed your (I'm presuming) NON-ex-military ass up the drive to the garage for your apt. building . . . but, of course, you had sailed inside and already made the elevator — eluding me & making me risk becoming a trespasser, to boot. Don't worry though, bitch, you won't get a second chance . . .
Hey [NAME REDACTED],
You sure spend a lot of time on the internet. Not only do you troll this site with your 'white people are the devil' comments but you frequent that shithole Portland IndyMedia, too? Why don't you take the conspiracy shit, take a breather from the internet, and go outside for a little bit.
Dear Friends - yes, plural - receiving unemployment: Sure it was kind of cute at first that you could hang out when fucking ever since you manipulated yourselves out of your jobs nearly two fucking years ago. That was very convenient for me as I rarely had free time to coordinate a drunken night out with my other friends who actually work. But as I've struggled with simple expenses and seen you tripping the light-fucking-fantastic as renters pay off your mortgage, and watched my pathetic paycheck hemorrhage out to taxes, I realize that you "raping the system to get your due from the man" is actually you fucking us all over as we spiral into the worst economic shithole since the depression you lazy fucking fuck off. Get a fucking job, deadbeat, and quit whining when I can't/don't want to hang out with you anymore.
I see you hanging around no more. I`ll make damn sure you don`t go looking into my mail box again, as you do, which is placed directly in front of my house, and private. The same goes for the places I frequent, that you can`t follow me and hang using google locator, which I have it freely open for my friends in my smart phone, that I don`t know how you made use of it, since it`s password protected. Considering you have denied it several times, with the utmost degree of self indignation and outrage, and kept at it, by my means you`ll learn not to try to screw good people again, or people who were being nice to you, for use of a better term, and by trying to fix an unsolvable problem, receiving in response the worst of you. I tried to straighten this up by myself, personally, but your responses where unbelievable. You where playing me, but I wasn't playing you. Now you know better.
To all you slumlords who own shit boxes out there who are taking advantage of the fact there are a lot of people who are looking to rent housing because the foreclosure crisis and have your shit box for rent at a ridiculously over-inflated price, shame on you! You opportunistic sorry excuse for a human,I have not had a foreclosure, I just want to rent a decent house with my husband, not get fucked by you! This whole thing will collapse on all of you and I hope you are the ones who can't find decent housing! You will get yours when you find you have renters who can't keep paying the outrageous rent you charge for your drafty unimproved money-making crap hole. Go to hell for trying to capitalize on the misfortune of others and bringing me into it!
You may recognize me as the volunteer who earnestly gave her time, dedication, and effort to your festival last year. Remember? I stood agonizing, and soaked in sweat as the piping hot gallery baked away my naivety. Whilst you drank and smoked in amusement of how the volunteers all wanted to be "cool" like you. Your eyes were fixated on my chest although we were wearing the same shirt, reading the four letters of the organization that foolishly pays your salary.
Some community members genuinely care about developing the creativity in Portland. Our artistic capability is nationally recognized, and I would like to see us distinguished for our talent rather than the smarmy, holier-than-thou attitude that has been swallowing our city whole lately. Basically, your ignorant, misinformed hubris is harming Portland.
While it is true I was an unpaid volunteer for PICA, it does not mean that I see you elevated upon a pedestal of conceptual artistic brilliance. Especially, when considering that my time is spent in writing and constructing legal arguments so that your program is funded. Irony lies in that I have been ostracized by a nonprofit arts organization as I spend my days researching ways to pay your salary.
Last night, a security guard told me that you didn't have enough volunteers to keep the galleries operating the same amount of hours this year. Is it because no longer does the city have the stupidity to be objectified by the artificial and insincere staff of your organization?
I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I was supposed to give a shit that
you are filming a scene of your shitty, stupid show in front of
Breakside Brewery (and taking up the entire public sidewalk). I
hadn't planned for the fact that by simply walking home from Woodlawn
Park bouncing my basketball (on the other side of the fucking street)
that I was causing a disruption so raucous that several of you thought
it necessary to invoke the international sign of "I'm Important And
You're Not," i.e. the silent finger to the lips, like somehow I should
care what the fuck you're doing.. I didn't realize that your presence
in my neighborhood wasn't enough of a hassle, and that only by
trudging tacitly, and in awe of your self-glorifying spectacle, from
the park to my home would I be able to do my part and help birth your
half-assed sketch show into fruition.
It must be nice to get a big ol' fat paycheck making fun of my
lifestyle, but I'm afraid that your sophomoric and somewhat tedious
parodies are not pointed enough to cause me to detour around your
roadblock (!) and your unfunny film shoot.
Go film in LA, in which you obviously wished you lived, you lazy,
self-righteous, entitled fucks.
To the Fucking Bitch Who Knowingly Blocked My View From The Wheelchair Section: The above salutation is the mild one, the other more apt one is unfit to print, even by my standards. I would wish for a tragedy to befall you that would leave you in a wheelchair, but unfortunately we share the same musical tastes, so that might mean I would have the displeasure of your company in the wheelchair section, so perhaps it's best that you not survive!I!!!
I just wanted a place for my three dogs to stay during my wedding. That’s all. So I assumed that I would call a few dog boarding places in Portland, right? Yes, one of them needs to be kept separate from other dogs because she has a broken bone in her leg. What’s that? Did you really just ask me how she is going to go to the bathroom? I apparently idiotically assumed that you could figure that out if I have to pay you $45 PER DOG PER NIGHT. You only have deluxe rooms with feather pillows and flat screen TV’s? OH PLEASE, the room I’m staying in doesn’t even have those. You want me to bring each of them in separately for an evaluation at $18 a piece?!? You’ve got to be kidding me. Was it really necessary to try to make me feel like I’m a horrible person for wanting my dogs in a “cage”? She HAS A FUCKING BROKEN BONE! Of course I don’t want her playing with 50 other dogs all day and night. I AM FOLLOWING THE VETERINARIAN’S DIRECTIONS (And he obviously knows way more about dogs than you!) And it goes on and on: why would I leave my dog when she is injured? IT’S MY WEDDING THAT I’VE BEEN PLANNING FOR A YEAR. Why would I expect them to be able to keep her separate from other dogs? SHE IS INJURED AND YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING DOG KENNEL. I REALLY DON’T THINK THAT IS TOO MUCH TO ASK! Why wasn’t I willing to take the last available “deluxe suite”? THAT IS MORE EXPENSIVE FOR ALL MY DOGS THAN MY DAMN “NEWLYWED SUITE”. At least I finally found a sane section of land called Sauvie Island.
After dinner at Toro Bravo, I go to leave, and find your stupid bike lock around the brake cable of my bike. I try for a half hour to disassemble my brakes to liberate my bike, but GEE, I didn't think to carry a *complete tool kit* around my neck tonight. (A summer dress with no pockets? What was I thinking?).
My options are:
A) Lock your bike to mine, take a cab home, and offer to free your bike in the morning in exchange for my cab fare;
B) Call a locksmith, have him clip your stupid U-lock, and leave your bike to get stolen; or
C) Wait for you.
I decide to be merciful and opt for Option C, even though I'm pretty confident you're at the concert next door. I place a note on your bike (and lock my bike to yours, so you'll come find me) and wait for 2.5 HOURS inside Toro Bravo. (At least *that* could have been worse.)
When you finally show up, you're a complete dickwad and even deny at first that your bike was ever locked to mine. You throw $5 at me "for the drink I had to have while I was waiting" and demand that I accept your apology. You continue to act as if you've been wildly inconvenienced, because it took you almost a *whole minute* to find me and get me to remove my lock. (Never mind that I'd been waiting for nearly 3 hours).
Your rudeness shocks everyone who had been trying to help and keep me company as I waited. In addition to Toro Bravo, the other three businesses nearby had also been trying to track you down. Everyone was eager to find out who the mystery idiot was, but no one expected him to be as rude and full of bluster as you. The staff felt so bad, they even picked up my tab after you stormed out.
PS: You're way too old and sweaty to have been at that techno concert at the Wonder Ballroom tonight. What were YOU thinking?
Maybe I'm just old. Maybe that's it. As an old fuck, I rarely stay up late, and rarely watch the late shows. Tonight, however, I saw the oft-written about Portland band Typhoon on Letterman. That's great that they were on, congratulations to them, but for fuck's sake was that awful. Do they really need 40 people on stage to make that sound? It could be done with 5 or 6. And I know that Portland is a white mecca, but god damn, that music had no trace of any black influence—-no beat, no groove, no hooks, no nothing. And who knows what the fuck they were singing about, but it didn't seem to be anything any of them were passionate about. Like a weaker, less musical version of the Decemberists. And this is what the Portland music press wets it's pants over?
So you've just fallen while skateboarding, and note that your foot is grotesquely positioned under your own ass. Go home, ice your knee. Wait til the ER is less busy, then when you've told 3 people you've dislocated your knee, you can a) admit you're uninsured, b) get the hell outta there before your bill goes higher, or c) make soulful eye contact with someone who looks like they may give a shit. Wait 2 hours. After you've been treated like a drug-seeking blight on society (you ARE uninsured), go home.
Wait 4 weeks for the swelling to go down. When you can't take it anymore, have a few swigs of your beverage of choice (you alcoholics out there will know what to do), lie back with your feet toward the ceiling, noting how your foot points towards the wall, and allow gravity to bend the knee for the first time in weeks, manipulating and grinding the joint back into realignment. Cry out in pain, you big pussy.
Sleep for the first time in weeks, understanding that even though you've worked your whole life you're now an uninsured POS, not entitled to humane medical care, such as having a physician donate 10 minutes of precious time to relocating your knee for you.
Next week...So you think you can't perform your own appendectomy at home? Think again!!
If you don't want to have sex, can I please do someone else tonight? If I'm on my rag, will you please do someone else and get off my back? Just wear a condom because I don't want any std's. I don't understand why we can't have sex with other people occasionally and still be together.
I understand how angry the bicyclists are about being hit and ignored by people driving cars. I understand that they perceive themselves as a minority, but I'm a pedestrian and there really has to be some accountability for us peds (not pedos) trying to get off the bus and cross streets without worrying about getting hit. Yay for all the new bicycle routes and that, but honestly some of us have to take mass transit, or maybe try and cross the street downtown with the lights. As a whole I am guessing that the bicycle culture is reaching it's summit during the summer months. Just, I don't know maybe, think about all of us trying to get on and off bus, or even trying to cross the street. Some riders have a self-involved sense of righteousness that makes them feel that it's okay to endanger our lives. Bike people, you go for it!!! However, the next time you run through a light, ride on the sidewalk, etc. I will take my umbrella and shove it through your spokes, the same way I would hit a car turning right on 82nd or downtown to emphasis the point that you tried to hit me. I have an special hatred towards the bands of bicyclists who turn 21st and Division into a major clusterfuck. Karma will get you eventually!
Although I walk a lot I am also a filthy motorist and cyclist from time to time. My peeve - pedestrians who are ridiculously reticent to exercise their right of way at a pedestrian crossing. Don't ask permission, don't spot a car coming from two blocks away and stand still on the curb to wait for the motorist to come to a complete stop. GO!! A ped crossing is a green light for pedestrians! You don't have to ask permission and you don't need to, and should not, thank motorists for stopping. You wouldn't thank another motorists for not running a red light and hitting you if you were driving. I personally relish strolling without hesitation into a ped crossing and making people stop short, hopefully spilling their coffee. I'm not saying I am completely suicidal about it, self preservation is important. Just doing my part to train motorists to look for those Ped Xing warning signs.
There seems to be a growing trend in Portland that riding a bike makes you a minority. I have seen it on this site and other blogs (that happens to be run by a straight white man) where they like to think that what choose as a form of transportation instantly makes them a minority. Riding a bike is a choice; almost everyone in the world is able to ride one. Stop thinking you know what it is like to be black just because your choice of transportation are not what the majority of people do in this city. Stop equating wanting better bike lanes or road access to that of the civil rights movement. It’s embarrassing, it comes off close minded, and it’s hurting the imaging of riding a bike. This did not work for Chris Dudley while running for governor when said he knows what it was like to be a minority because he was the only white guy on his team in the NBA. Please change your mentality and realize that most people are bike riders. Just because people drive their cars to work or use them to do errands doesn’t mean they have never ridden a bike or will own a bike. It’s getting out of control and it is making you look crazy.
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