I remember a simpler time. Exchanging glances on the viranda of that corner store we used to frequent. Your finger gently taking advantage of the tip of my butt crack on the city bus. Your face and your voice were different every time but i knew it was you, my sweet warrior. I long for the days we would sit in your storage unit breathing paint fumes, sipping on hairspray, and masturbating to old issues of Exotic. Don't go! Not just yet. Join me for one last wild ride down the public thoroughfare that is my life.

I don't know how I turned out this way. If you had told me in high school I'd be a petty thief I would have laughed. Or that I had a drinking problem. Or that I'd cheat on my girlfriend. Or that I would be fat. I had big dreams and I knew how to accomplish them. I was a good person. So I thought back then. Those dreams died. I turned out the be petty filth.

Ladies. If we're talking on a dating site it is because I found your profile to be witty or clever and your pics cute or even hot. But then the meeting.

Can you at least TRY to put pics up that reflect what you actually look like? Because I have been on a date with a lady that looked amazing online but had hatchet face. And if you're "curvy" full body shot or at least say it in your discription. I'm not against some fluff, I don't like seeing ribs when I fuck. My pics look like me, what you see is what you get.
So turn of the hipstamatic, peel off those fake eyelashes, and post what you actually look like, not what you wish you looked like.

I ANONYMOUS, what the hell has become out of country!?!? everythings gone to shit! ever sence bush was in office everything got a hell of a lot worse. its a god damn police state and its bullshit. somehow lobbyists can bribe and its legal, religeon is getting mixed with goverment, corperations are now people, and theese fachist pigs can do what ever they want becouse of a god damn badge! this pisses me off. how do you feel?

Could you please watch some European soccer matches in order to get a better idea of how soccer matches should be live edited? I'm quite tired of watching long replays of insignificant plays while the match resumes and the viewer misses out on live action! Please mimic the way the rest of the work televises soccer so that people who know the game and love to watch it, (ie, all of portland) can watch the timbers without horribly live edited viewing experiences. Thanks!
W

I know our relationship was going to shit. I knew you were planning an exit. I foolishly thought we could work it out, and I spent months trying.

What I didn't expect was for you to handle it so poorly. You told me you wanted to work things out, you claimed to be trying. Yet, through these past few months you've led me on. You admitted yourself that the only reason you stayed with me was so that you would have a place to stay, and you thought that if you didn't pretend to make it work, I'd ask you to leave.

To lie like that, to fake a relationship, and use someone simply so you have somewhere to sleep is fucked up. If you had any clue you'd know I wouldn't — couldn't — leave you out on your ass. If only we could have had that honest, open, and mature relationship that I was always pushing for, eh?

I don't feel bad about reading your text messages and discovering that you were fucking your co-worker and delving into a world of sex, drugs, and booze. I had my suspicions after you ditched me on several dates to hang out with him. Wrong or not, I deserved to know. You're angry denial when I asked only made it that much more obvious.

You hate me because I'm so "grown-up" and "responsible". So what if I don't want to go out and party every night? it's because I know that there are bills to pay and money to save. You want to go out and be reckless, young, and free? Fine, go for it.

I just wish you could have done it without leading me on, using me, lying, and cheating.

Sometimes I think I'm funny and I'm not. For example I steal stuff sometimes as a joke. Once I stole someone's boat. Hitched it up to my truck and left it in a strip club's parking lot. I broke into a movie theater, but I only stole a case of Junior Mints. Last week I saw a Jehovah's Witness guy put his bag down and as he turned to lock up his bike I swooped in and nicked the bag. It had a bunch of reglious flyers and books and shit in it. But it also had a wrapped present inside. There was a card attached that said, "I know you can beat this. May God preserve your strenght. My prayers are with you." I didn't open the package (feels like a book or a picture), and there's no other identification in the bag, so I can't really return it. Now I feel like an ass and don't know what to do, except apologize for my stupid joke. I'm sorry and I wish I had been more thoughtful.

Dear douchebag skateboarder: I know it's all Portland-y to race down a crowded sidewalk at the lunch hour like it's a skate park, but you nearly ran over a couple of Kansas State fans out for a walk.

I apologize to these fans. Please enjoy the NCAA tournament and our city, despite this 10-year-old in a 30-year-old's body.

I'll admit it, I'm a racist. I hate certain people based off the color of their skin. It's not what you would consider the usual suspects but more a new wave. I find everything about them offensive; their culture, their food, their accents. I fucking hate them. Every single one I've ever met was an entitled asshole. I honestly wish they'd go the fuck home.

So, you want to have a website made for you, huh? You want it to look really nice, you want to have the final say on every last little design detail, and you want it to do cool stuff, like allow you to sell things with a neat-o shopping cart like Amazon has. And you want to pay how much for that? $300? Less? Fuck that. Guess what - it's going to cost you MUCH more than that to have it done, assuming that you want it done RIGHT, and done by a PROFESSIONAL who knows what the fuck they're doing. I'm getting really sick and tired of all the lowballing, webstite-needing dickwads who think they can get freelancers like me to build them an awesome website for dirt cheap. If you think that a eye-catching, functional website shouldn't cost you more than a month's worth of groceries, then why don't you spend a year or two learning Dreamweaver, HTML/CSS, Javascript, JQuery, PHP, MySQL, Wordpress, and Photoshop, and fucking DO IT YOURSELF. Assholes.

I wish I could change. I really do. But I'm a horrible abusive monster. I can't control it either, it's like a switch gets flipped and I go from perfectly normal to a screaming asshole who hits you.

I don't know why you stay with me, other than you say it's ok. But it isn't. Part of me wishes you'd leave so I'd have to do something about it but you don't.

I'm sorry I hit you. I'm sorry I scream at you. I don't know how to change but I'll keep trying.

Why, oh why will you women 20-39 years of age only watch movies made for children? Was I asleep in sex ed the day the teacher explained that it takes more than half the female lifetime to develop a need for characters that reflect the actual human condition, plot lines that make basic sense, and a more developed sense of humor than your average 8-year-old? Do grown people really need to waste time discussing how ‘Puss in Boots’ was cuter than the other ‘Shrek’ movies? What is it that’s so terrifying to the female psyche about any moviegoing experience that requires the audience to feel emotions deeper than glee-at-multicolored-scenery, favorite-animal-is-now-singing-favorite-song, lead-female-character-is-hilariously-sarcastic-but-otherwise-no-different-than-traditional-disney-princesses, and ending-was-spelled-out-in-the-preview-but-I-hate-surprises-anyway? THESE MOVIES ARE MADE TO ENTERTAIN BABIES! A little angst in a movie doesn’t make it that scary! A little sexual content in a movie doesn’t make it that slutty! A less-than-perfect ending doesn’t make it that depressing! I’m sorry life hasn’t shaped up to be the fairytale you expected, but it’s okay to readjust what you want out of life rather than hiding forever behind childhood naivety. Take a chance! Feel something! Quit intentionally pandering to yourself!

This actually goes for some guys too, now that I think about it.

dear douchebag,

i was biking up ne going after a day of work into the sunset, you decided to casually roll through a stop sign in your ugly-ass suv type gas guzzling truck to make up for your small dick because you don't even have a brain. maybe you just forgot about your heart and that i'm a person since you decided to give me the finger when i had the right of way, especially since i was riding my bike ass hole. next time take the time to actually follow the rules and go love yourself dickface.

Dear Millie,

I don't know who you are, but you annoy the shit out of me. Every single night you delay my coveted internet television time. Please stop offering your shitty internet connection to everyone. Get a password. Please.

Sincerely,
Your Neighbor

No, this isn't another "Why do you hate polar bears so much?" rant about how you're killing the earth because little Holden and Scarlett need more room to roam. It's about your delusion that your Super Hummer XXL is a COMPACT.

99% of the time I park my crappy two-door Civic (which is an ACTUAL compact) in the "compact" row in the Whole Foods parking lot, I'm flanked on either side by your behemoth rationalization-on-wheels. That means getting out of my car is going to look like a scene from a Marx Brothers movie, and actually pulling out of my space is going put the lives of other Whole-Foods-Shopping douchebags at risk because I can't see past the giant gadonkadonk of your Buick Enclave.

I'm sorry the "compact" spots are the ones closest to the store, but please at least give us crappy 10 year-old Civic owners ONE perk. We need it. Because no one has ever gotten laid in a Civic.

A big sarcastic “Thanks” to the guy who switched out our recycle bin.
Now, we’ve had our bin stolen before, we’ve had people use our bin as a personal dumpster, and we regularly have all the returnable cans and bottles nabbed from it (which is fine) and a huge mess left in the wake of said acquisition (which is not fine).
Anyway- when you drove up in front of our house yesterday and started rustling around in our recycle bin, I bet you didn’t realize that my partner was sitting on our porch smoking a cigarette. I imagine you thought you were being pretty stealthy, but you made a lot of noise, and when you left my partner went and investigated your little crime scene. He discovered that you’d not only stolen our recycle bin, but had also mysteriously replaced it with your own, extremely filthy one. The bin you left us was foul, and filled with unwashed jars, a broken clock and vase, and a bunch of trash. It’s incomprehensible to me why you would do this. I can see dropping your shit in someone else’s bin to avoid paying a bill- or taking bottles to return- but swapping out bins is possibly the strangest form of property disrespect? Damage? I don’t even know what to call it, let alone why the fuck you wanted us to recycle your dirty hot sauce bottles but took our wine bottles (which you also can’t return). I don’t even really mind except for the fact that everything was covered in mud and grime and had to be hosed down. Honestly it was just a bit of a disappointment there wasn’t a good reason you did this, like finding a dismembered limb or something.

To the Mercedes driving asshole who uses both of the two laundry carts at the 48th and Woodstock laundromat, and leaves his shit in the dryers for several hours at a time: Today when I saw you taking my clothes out of my dryer the second after it finished was the last straw. A self important, "Oh is this your laundry? I hate having to move laundry." is all you managed to get out. As soon as you sped away in your fancy-pants Mercedes, I pulled your sopping wet laundry out of the dryer you had just paid for, and left them in a basket for everyone else to rifle through just like you did with my clothing. Luckily for me, I was sitting there waiting for my drying to finish. Too bad for you.

Leave it to good ol portland to be where professional protesters live. i mean come on, someone stole from his company and you spend the day you were already gonna waste, in the rain trying to have a local grocery store reinstate a lunch thief? and after the protest is over you walk inside the same store and use your foodstamps to buy some quick sugar fixes?!?!
get a job, mind your business, and dont support local thievery.

[Editor's Note: Using grammar and proper capitalization is always in style.]

Portland, I can't live the lie anymore. I have to come clean.

I like Whole Foods better than New Season.

They're both over priced and self-congratulating. They're both corperations owned by overseas investors that pretend to be local.

The difference is that when you walk into a Whole Foods, there's a former chef offering you samples of 3-year aged gouda, or slices of rare Jamaican Red Pinapple.

You walk into a New Season, and the guy in the produce department is listening to his ipod and sneering at you because you have a job that pays you enough to shop at New Seasons.

I spent a good part of my twenties stocking shelves at supermarkets, so I know a thing or two about the grocery arts. I hate to say it, but Whole Foods is just a better grocery store.

So the other evening I ran out of gas. I know dumb move... Police show up, (Yeah I'm saved!) No not so much. They tell me to keep starting the car, then inform me my battery is dead. I felt like I was in some Monty Python film. No officer It's not dead yet. They call a tow truck. I let everyong know I just need GAS. Nope they want to tow it to impound. WHAT???, I'm out of gas you silly peeps. Aparently tow trucks no longer carry any gas. He won't tow it to my house which is 3 miles away. I have no idea where Impound is but I see a $500 dollar bill in my future. I inform tow driver I can't affor that. I tell him I have $30. He tells me to go get it. Takes it and drives off. What?? Police drive me home. I walk to gas station and put in car. I start it up and drive home. Wow

My mom has gone through a lot of shit! An abusive husband who held us up at gunpoint many times. She looked into hiring a hit man to protect her two sons from him. The reason she didn'tt is because the piece of shit killed himself. Her parents severely beat her and her siblings. And during that time, I recently found out you molested her. Her own brother. You are a prominent pastor in the area. As her son I am going to slaughter your name online. You are a piece of shit. I hope you die cold and alone. I will take every measure to make that happen.

I usually have a rule that I will not allow a person's belongings to become lost or broken when in my care, but I made a very special exception for you.
I gave you the option of a painless breakup a month before you broke up with me, but denied me on the grounds that was "chickening out." If it was just the fact that you used that month to drain me of every spare penny, cigarette, and bud I had while trashing my room and withholding sex, your stuff would still be intact. But you also used that month to cheat on me with a mutual friend, leading me to believe you just wanted to hurt and humiliate me as much as possible.
I have no regrets "accidentally" smashing your irreplaceable picture CD's or pouring toothpaste on your favorite leather shoes. It was a pleasure to shatter every single one of your DVD's you left in my room. I can't wait to fuck another woman on your favorite bedding, and give it back to you dripping with her orgasmic juices (and you KNOW how good I am at making women wet, don't you?)
I'm not proud I broke one of my own rules, but I have to admit, after the cruel and sadistic treatment I've received from you, it felt good. DAMN GOOD in fact.
Thought you should know.

I should of know that you had already puked once in the night and were going to do it again. Maybe it was the puke on your shoe and pants. Or maybe it was the fact that you eyes were rolling around in the back of your dome. But I thought for sure no dumbass would get on on the MAX on a busy Friday night after already proving he can't hold his liquor. But you ARE a dumbass. So while crossing the Steel Bridge you projectile vomited onto everyone. Why the fuck did you puke forward into your hands, and not down on the ground? Genius! The people you puked on are amazing because nobody said anything out of being frustrated, angered, or startled by your burrito chunks going everywhere. No really, they went everywhere. So by the time we got to the Rose Quarter we all had to get off because you created a bio hazard. So then everyone had to wait while TriMet brought a new train in, disrupting traffic for the line. You cleared a fucking train! Also you aren't 100% to blame. You had two brilliant friends who were way more sober than you, who didn't think twice about bringing your puking ass on the train. They didn't even flinch at the situation, like this was routine. I know puking on the MAX happens. But for fucks sake if you have already been drunk, puking throughout the night, don't get on the train until you know you are cool to ride. Got it you little poopshit?

That is right I am SKINNY
Not because I work out every day, and not because I completely watch what I eat, but because nature made me this way.
Much like your fat ass, with the exception that most of you can't avoid a fried food menu at a bar to save your lives.
Saying I'm naturally big boned then eating three plates of cheese sticks, and chili fries with your cocktail? COME on who are you trying to kid?
WE are all beautiful. I am not hating on you for being fat.
I am sick of YOU making fun of me for being thin.
Why is it so socially acceptable to make fun of skinny girls?
I for one am sick of it! Next time you do make fun of me, my bony elbows are going to hit you in your three chins, then my knobby knees will run faster then you can roll!

The other night you told me and my friend off in that condescendingly friendly way so unique to Portland. You believed we had cut you in line, when in fact you were waiting in another line when a new register opened up. You then preceded to tell us to "be careful next time" when getting in a grocery line. What the hell man?! You can't reserve a place in line that doesn't exist yet. Take your self-righteous advice and shove it up your tight ass. I would have said something as such but I was so dumbfounded by your snobby gall.