I was just trying to be helpful at the bus stop. I had just called trimet and knew when the bus was supposed to be coming ...a few minutes later than it was scheduled. When you walked up and started to look at the schedule, I said "I just called, the bus should be here in 10 minutes". You said "I know how to read". Well, excuse me for trying to be helpful. You could've just said "o.k." or "thanks", but nooooo. I don't know why this bothered me so much. You're probably a miserable, mean person (why else would you react like you did?) and I shouldn't let this bother me, but this kind of thing makes me feel like I never want to be helpful to anyone. I don't like feeling like that. I'm going to try to forget all about this. Your behaviour is obviously not worth thinking about. I hope someone makes you feel bad when you're trying to help them ... oh, I forgot, you probably wouldn't try to help anyone.
Okay ... rant over
The best holiday of the year is sadly overlooked. Just because you're not forced to buy gifts or hand out candy is no excuse not to celebrate with a couple phone calls to your friends, family or even strangers. Surely you know someone who's refrigerator is running? How about their computer...is it running? Well - They better catch it!! Do they have their lights on - if so, how do they fit? Does your local butcher have pig or chicken feet? How do they walk? Again with how do they walk...does the guy running the rental counter at the bowling alley have 10 pound balls? 12 pound? Seriously, how the hell does he walk? It's Sunday - chore day. Why don't you do some laundry? Why not put some short (I mean clean) sheets on the bed to surprise your sweetie? And how long has it been since you called your mother? Or your Grandmother? Call Them! Tell them you love them! I guarantee that between them, one of 'em has Pop in a can...and he wants out!
By the way, your shoes are untied.
I smoked Crack for the first time when I was 28. I smoked it on and off for about 4 years, always chasing that high, like the cliche that it is. It's true though, you are always chasing that first rush. I regret smoking my first rock at some chicken joint near that Kmart on Sandy and 122nd. Met a cute skinny guy and he showed me how to smoke it in the parking lot. What a feeling! I chased it for 4 years, finding myself in very odd places. Bars, cars, apartments, living rooms and even in the woods. Was I scared? No, I never was. The people I ran into were indeed scary, but I wasn't scared of them. I figured I could talk myself out of any situation, which I did several times. I switched to Meth after I figured I was done with Crack. Meth was different, to say the least. It does make you lose your mind sometimes. You just wake up one morning or night and find yourself walking down some random street with no shirt on. How you got there, you'll never know. Sometimes you wake up in jail. Do I wish I could stop? Not really, I'm not ready to stop. For now, I'm just going to continue blowing old fat men for money to feed my habit. It's not all that bad once you get used to it. Hold your breath and work it, get the money and get out. I used to be pretty. I used to have dreams. I used to know what love felt like. I wanted to go to college, get married and have a family. Now I'm just some throwaway piece of trash that most of you laugh at. Lucky me.
Dear baristas who can play whatever the fuck they want,
Most people visit coffee shops because they want to chat with friends, study, or utilize your free wifi, NOT to applaud your supposedly "unique" taste in music. Blasting the Go-Go's "Head Over Heels" is kitschy, annoying, and most importantly, it disrupts my train of thought. If I have to continue putting up with your taste in Beyonce or 90s alternative rock, I think I'm going to have to invest in an internet connection, and no one wants that. Please, consider those in concentration and play unobtrusive tunes. I am sure you will not lose your "unique" status by playing music that strays from thrasher metal. - Anonymous
Dear the fucking idiot who thought it was a good idea to to use toilet brush as a plunger. GUESS WHAT? It's not a good idea and its fucking gross, do you have any basic knowledge of anything? I understand clogging a toilet is embarrassing and there is no plunger in the downstairs bathroom but seriously?! Thats fucking gross, I haven't used that brush in maybe a YEAR, SHIT has been sitting there FOR A FUCKING YEAR. You are probably the same person who puked in my shower towel and never told me and left cigarette butts in my bed. FUCK YOU.
Hey you sitting in the dark at your house, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and beer cans, a path cleared from clutter from your bed to your computer. Get something better to do than read other people's writing and say mean shit. You will probably read this and freak out and jump all over it, because you know you are one and you are angry about it.
To the dude that writes "Nomad" in inner south east, while you lack some style your throw up on that Mona Lisa billboard on Morrison and 9th brings a smile to my face every morning on my way to work. Keep up the good work and maybe look into using a few different colors in your pieces.
Somehow you feel justified in the belief that because I have premarital sex I could not take good care of your daughter. It's great to know that you have spent time imagining me being so absorbed in "loud sex" that I can't do my job. Yes. That's right. I just fuck all day and night.
How you even know that I am sexually active is a mystery to me. How it is up to you to apply your personal moral code to my life is an even greater mystery.
As a "Christian" you let me know that your daughter wouldn't want to be around a sinner like me. You said if she could speak for herself she would express this- because she was raised a Christian.
Allow me to speculate:
If your daughter could speak for herself I have a feeling she would tell you to fuck off.
Because you scared away the only person who has bothered to love her for the past year.
Because you don't spend any time with her.
Because you resemble the offspring of a sweaty pig and a beaver.
I hope you come across this when you are secretly, ashamedly flipping through the escort section, judging all the sinners you want to screw.
I hope you read this and take a holy crap in your god-loving pants.
Maybe you can summon your buddy Jesus to swoop down and slime me with his wrath- I'm sure you're high on his "nice" list. Wait, that's Santa.
I will not be spoken to that way. Not by you or anyone.
I hope you can forgive me for saying this, but you are not a Christian. You are a bigot. An intolerable, aggressive, judgmental, ignorant bigot. Asshole.
Being perceived as "suspicious" by a stranger with a gun: Punishable by DEATH. Running away from some strange man who is chasing you in the night: Punishable by DEATH. Fighting back when this strange man confronts you: Punishable by DEATH. Doing what we've taught our children to do from day one regarding stranger danger: Punishable by DEATH. Defending yourself when you think a stranger is attempting to kidnap or attack you: Punishable by DEATH. Being a black kid wearing a hoodie in America: Punishable by DEATH.
Having an arrest record for violence, killing a kid who had NO idea who you were or why you were following him, DISOBEYING a police dispatcher's order to NOT PURSUE, attacking him because YOU perceived him to be "suspicious", LOSING the fight that YOU initiated and pulling out a 9mm gun to shoot him in the chest like a coward: FREEDOM and LIFE.
I was unemployed for most of 2011. Between a few craptastic temp jobs and living on $99 a week (AFTER TAXES!!) unemployment I made $18,092. last year. I claimed the appropriate number of exemptions from my temp jobs and from unemployment. I was really looking forward to my $200 tax refund. I was wondering what was taking so long & about to call to make sure you received my forms...then I got your notice that you "corrected" my taxes and I OWE $80!! WTF? I made 18K! How in the hell do I owe more taxes? Seriously, you didnt take enough? I've been paying all F-ing year from my measly wages & unemployment. Another $80.00? Are you shitting me? Thank god I finally found a good full time real job, otherwise I'd still be making $99 a week AFTER taxes, and it would take me a long time to pay that off. Of course you say I can challenge it, or disagree or whatever. Basically I have to pay that $80. It'll cost me more to fight it. Seriously, $18K in a year and I owe..You are un-fucking real.
To the person (or persons) who instigated the new rule that employees in an "employees only" area at a fucking bookstore can only wear ONE headphone: you are a piece of shit. You've taken away one of the last shreds of sanity that we wage slaves have been desperately clinging to since everyone and their grandma switched to e-books. Working retail in a Costco-like environment is soul-sucking and draining, even if the product being peddled is respectable and good. I won't even delve into the fact that we are understaffed and overworked; that's another point entirely. What I am trying to make clear is that being able to listen to some low-level music (while not on the retail floor kissing customer ass) is a godsend, and you've ruined it by allowing us to listen to our portable music devices with only ONE ear. Where is the joy in that? And how is it less distracting? If anything, it's actually more disruptive since our brains are actively trying to make sense of the sound duality created by music in one ear and a cavalcade of voices in the other. The normal TWO EAR use of headphones lets us actually concentrate on our work (again, off the retail floor where there are no customers in sight) while still allowing us to hear work-related pages. It's worked that way for many years and has, until now, been one of the saving graces of a job gone mad. Thank you, Big Brother, for making our independent bookstore feel more and more like a corporate nightmare.
I just want to thank the former owner of the cat I adopted this week. It's easy to frown on people who give up their pets, but judging by the wonderful and very expensive care package you left for him, I think you must have been pretty sad to give your friend up. But I promise to take good care of your Sonic and keep him in only the finest of catnips. He really is a sweet boy.
yep here it is...that my drinking has pissed you off once again, hmm i wonder why,cause i had a conversation with my smoke in the back alley,or i did'nt buy you any drinks this last time around,or was it cause i was worried about you to much or didnt remember the night before..well guess what... keep yr fucking comments to yourself about my fucking drinking.if its really that bad then dont ask me to come out or ask me to buy you yager bombs,have shots in the morning or whatever the fuck else you asked me when we were out and even when you drove me there..i dont piss on yr couch,call you names,hurt anyone of my friends or put them in fucked situations nor have i lost any teeth or maybe my wallet at the bar or some money out of my pocket,and cracked a phone screen.i maybe just lost money on people who thought were my friends.thanks for the heads up.cause this time around i wont be around cause like you said everytime you see me im drunk...go lookin the fucking mirror.
I am feeling very angry so my options are:
1. Drive around Portland in rush hour and flip people off who are getting in my way.
2. Try to run over bikers.
3. Get really drunk.
3. Find an ex-boyfriend or girlfriend and stalk them.
5. Read I Anonymous and write mean comments about other people's writing or tell them they are stupid.
Get it out people. Get it out.
So you thought you were being sneaky when you glanced left then right, up and down Milwaukie, completely missing my gf and I enjoying the sun in our not-so-secret spot. I had no idea you were looking for a restroom, otherwise I would've stopped you from dropping your jogging pants and watering the flowers. I would've broken a twig or told my better half to say something, but how could I have known that it was you and not your dog that had to go. Just wanted to say thank you for the full moon on a sunny day.
So I'm having beers with some friends discussing my housing situation (Yes they did leave. Oliver is OK). The thing is, says my friend, Mark..."We have to one up them. You put on a dominatrix outfit. I'll put on a collar and you have me on a leash. I'll put a pig nose on. We will all be in your room making a lot of noise and I'll be banging on the walls "Yeah", says Lori, throwing her chest forward towards the table, "and I'll come out hopping in a bunny suit"..."Hop, hop hop...all around your living room". "Then when they come out, we will just be like, "Hey do you want some coffee?"
So, I laid down for a nap the other day. I closed my eyes, and for the first time that I can remember in the 6 months since you died, I felt you lying there with me. I don't know if it had to do with my sleep deprivation, or with the obituary I had helped to write the day before, or with the pot I had smoked to finally fall asleep during the night, but I felt you there, and was (am) grateful. But... my mind was whipping into a sandstorm of emotion. With my eyes closed, sensations came in clear and cutting waves, with a sickening roar of self-realization in the background, blurry but closing in. And though I was so grateful to feel you there with me, some part of my mind - of my self? - wanted to escape from the intense reality of it. To get back into a safe dome of "normalcy," I thought about watching porn to hide from it. I told myself "no," that this presence was to be savored. But, I snuck away all the same, to a haze of other sensation, safe and predictable, shallow and radiating, to masturbating before my alarm went off. And even there in my fantasies, I couldn't let myself be with you. I really miss you.
Last night, while working, I was asked twice, that’s TWICE in one night, by strangers, “When are you due?” For the record, I’m not pregnant, and not even a little bit overweight. After my embarrassment and rage subsided (and after I threw away the dress I was wearing last night), I felt the need to write an informative note to anyone who might be confused about why you should never, EVER ask a woman if she is pregnant, or when she’s due, even if you think you are 100% sure that she is indeed pregnant.
Here are a couple of reasons why:
If she’s not, you just called her fat. Now you are both uncomfortable.
Maybe she was, but miscarried and is still showing. You are a jerk.
Maybe she already gave birth, and is still carrying some pregnancy weight. You just called her fat.
Maybe she is but hasn’t told anyone about it yet. Now she’s uncomfortable.
Maybe she has a health condition that makes her carry weight in her stomach. You are a jerk.
Maybe she is, but you are the 15th person to ask her about it that day. Annoying!
Most importantly, it’s none of your damn business, and it is totally inappropriate to comment on a stranger’s body. I hope this clears things up.
I thought she seemed interesting...a belly dancer coming to town to take a workshop for a week. She is about my age. I thought she had a girlfriend. Then she says. Oh yes. I have a wife...a husband...and a boyfriend. Ok, cool, I think.I'm an open-minded person....I read Sex at Dawn...but wow. I can't even find one boyfriend or girlfriend. Sounds tiring, I think...I have a job and a couple of friends too. Then he comes. The boyfriend...for a night. I say it's ok. I go to bed early. I'm 40. Don't make fun. I wake up at 11pm to a strange noise. It sounds like something is wrong with my geriatric cat...I run into the kitchen panicked, but...it's not Oliver. It's her. The Screaming Kitty...and "Whipper Snapper" her 26 yo boyfriend..a Junior High teacher from the East Coast. I can hear the sound of the whip, yet he makes no noise. They know I'm home. I guess they think I like it. It happens again in the morning. I come back in my little Shamrock tutu after running a 15K. I feel like a total dork and sex is not really on my mind..but they are still going at it. I should charge more for this room, I think. There is probably a market for this in Portland. I imagine the room equipped with whips, handcuffs...a swing in there too. The airbnb dungeon. Sound proofed....or not? They seemed pretty into me hearing it, though I don't remember signing a consent form.
it's been ages since I've talked to you. Now you are just some dirty machine. I wish I could have talked to you before things went to shit so I wouldn't be so soul less. I can't imagine a life without a truly meaningful person in it and I feel I fucked it up. I don't blame you anymore for using the roast chicken button preset for making pop corns in the microwave. I know I just should have bought a new one. I don't know how to repair this but someday I should start. I am afraid I will end up at 64 with 17 cats and 3 trips to the sperm bank, all failed. I can see my life laid out in front of me. Oh God, I hope you forgive me and see truly the good person I am beneath all this vile debris and rubbish and get me a good soul. Thank you.
Please stop with the passive aggressive bullshit! Everywhere I go people are leaving fucking notes to tell each other off. I went to walk my dog this morning and someone had duct taped a bag of dog shit (not mine) to the front door of my apartment building saying in all caps "PUT YOUR GOD DAMNED DOG POOP IN THE BIN LIKE THE REST OF US YOU LAZY PIECE OF SHIT". What in the hell are you thinking? If you know who this person is enough to duct tape shit to our communal door why don't you walk your "Lazy piece of shit" ass up the stairs and tell them this? You are a fucking coward. I also saw a note on someone's car parked in the street telling them they parked like a "legitimate asshole" because they weren't bumper to bumper with the car in front of them,meaning no one could fit between them and the no parking sign behind em. Park in the fucking lot. All of this pent up rage with no balls to make anything of it. Try using some stern words, in person, without shaking you little pussies. Enough with the chicken shit notes!
Hey you piece of shit who smashed out my bathroom window while I was on my honeymoon, stole my husband's bike, trashed my bathroom and stole that package off my coffee table. I really hope you are enjoying that handmade baby quilt, knitted baby sweater and stuffed penguin that were in that package you stole. I am sure you are enjoying them more than my newborn nephew ever could.
Hey neighbor, you must be a chef what with how much you're in the kitchen doing dishes and that great big dinner table in your living room. I'm sorry that when I moved to Portland I didn't have shades for three months, subjecting you to watching me drink and masturbate what must have seemed like all the time. I was pretty depressed, I'm better now. And I think we can both agree I have pretty shades.
Why is love and dating have to be so frustrating and sad. Why doesn't it work out. I see so many couples in love, twenty year olds, sixty year olds, why are the thirty year olds so miserable?! Miserable! The pressure to fulfill the others life, fill up the holes, provide the inspiration is debilitating. To be feminine. To be fuckable. To be entertaining. To stop over-thinking. It feels insurmountable when all you do is fall in love and then not have it work out, and not really know why. Inadequacy. I understand arranged marriages... we just had some basic expectations of each other, and they were simple. Its so hard to be single. I just want to find you and have it be real this time. I don't want to find you and not have it work out anymore. I don't want to sleep with anyone ever again, to get to know anyone, to open up to anyone except you, whoever you are. Wherever you are. Am I stupid at choices or is this just how it is? Is it normal at 30 that nothing has worked out? Just a trail of failed long term relationships? I hate this. I want it to be over already, its so dominating sometimes.. over my direction in life even, which really sucks to realize about myself. Feminism is a cruel mistress to biology.
My husband who I love immensely and I got pregnant. Incredibly unexpected and seemingly impossible, yet there I was with child. Being financially unstable and aware of the overpopulation epidemic we decided to do the responsible thing and not create another human being. Don't get me wrong we want kids someday, but through adoption. I was nauseous, fatigued, stressed and overwhelmed with the process, and then I called you. Oh thank you Abortion Clinic, you made my experience so comfortable. I was concerned about the judgement, the looks, the whispers, I felt I was going to be seen as Satan. Instead all I received was well wishes and understanding. With all that's happening, this "War on Women's rights", now is the time for more women to come forward with good experiences and positive feelings that they made the right decision when going through these types of situations. I'm glad I had the option to choose, and I would be horrified to live in a world that stripped me of that right.
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