I have been steadfastly working on getting into shape for just over a year now and I am starting to get pissed off. I have been eating right and exercising with vigor. Every time I get in the gym I make sure that my mind is ready and that I am really pushing myself. I am without a doubt better than I was a year ago but fuck me if friends aren't seeing better results with DVD workouts in like 3 months or whatever. I am not wanting to look like I am on roids but I would like to feel confident in my birthday suit this summer out on Sauvie Island. I have been riding to work, running at lunch, eating a pound of spinach a week and thanks to crushed flax, shitting like 3 times a day. Where is the damn six-pack? I'll take four, three even. Don't get me wrong, I am happy when I sweat it doesn't smell like pickles and popcorn anymore. I want it to smell like dirty, sexy man pheromones, though. Pheromones that will infiltrate the nostrils of some sexy red head with sleeve tats stimulating a response of desire so powerful that at my bidding she changes city coding laws and the P-Palace finally opens. I will cover her in pudding and pleasure her right there on the putt-putt course. Maybe I am just a dreamer. Maybe I am just an HGH shot in the ass from living this shit out, though.
There is something to be said about appreciation in a relationship. It shouldn’t only take place in the act of intimacy. We shouldn’t only truly love and appreciate one another when we’re giving each other pleasure. It should be persistent at all times. I do so much for you its annoying. I hardly get anything in return. Is it so wrong that, as your girlfriend, I like spending time with you? I feel like I’m the only one that ever tries to do anything for you. I threw you the best surprise birthday dinner and you were so thankful in that moment, but only because you were drunk. Your only emotion is when you’re drunk. I ask you to help me move my stuff and your response is “I don’t know, I might be hung over.” Wow, really nice of you. I only have a few men to ask and you aren’t even one of them. My ex would have said “Of course I’ll help you!”, he was always good for that. Always wanting to help, and always showing appreciation. I always say I don’t want to compare the two of you, but I do. He was a way better boyfriend than you will ever be. I have never felt more used than I do in this relationship. I deserve so much better. This rant has helped me realize how thankful I am that college has ended and we are moving away. I will be able to rid myself of you and not think too much about it. It’s so hard when you have all the same friends. But I will assure you, I will be appreciated as much as I appreciate someone else. Someday.
Is my house really your "territory"? I spent a ton of time and money building a very nice looking retaining wall last summer. It made my house look much nicer than the crappy falling over wall that was there before. For some reason even though it is blocks and blocks from any busy street you thought it would be awesome to spray paint the world's ugliest tag on it. Seriously the only reason anyone would say your tag was anything other than shit is that you didn't use brown paint. I spent an hour of my sunday removing your poopstain from my wall. I am not pro graffiti but I recognize that some of it is artistic, yours is not, and even if it were why would you paint in in a place where no one would see it. I hope that you get caught tagging by someone with a baseball bat who knocks that can out of your hand and then checks for your cup.
Dear street kids. You aren't homeless. You are BUMS. You are NOT entitled to have the right to sleep/camp on the street, just because you choose to not be a functioning member of society. You are drunk and high, dumping your trash everywhere, not cleaning up after your dogs, harassing people for money, and you want the rest of the world to give a shit about you?? FUCK YOU. You cannot mooch off of us just because you don't feel like working. You are not a victim - you are the PROBLEM. You tried to latch onto a political movement in an attempt to justify your laziness. If you are capable of aquiring camping gear, cellphones, musical instruments, pets, and an assortment of sharpies, then you are capable of working. Traveling? Fuck you - should have worked for the money before venturing out. Need beer and weed? Fuck you - why should we support your habits? Need food for your dog? FUCK YOU - you shouldn't have one. Go home, take a shower, and get a job- at least, try to.
Hi Pam, i hate to do this, but i got to Eugene and not only did that chick flip out on me in bed, but my car broke down too. i know we don't know each other very well yet, but i was wondering if i could ask for some help from you. From all of your photos it doesn't look like you work much or even have a job, so maybe you could pick me up here? It would be awesome if you could, cause i just want to get out of this town. I would buy you lunch at Denney's or something on the way home, you know, as a first date kind of deal. I called all of my other friends, but they dont want to help me because of jealousy. I can tell you about all of that later. It would be cool if you could help me, and someday it would be like a story we could tell to our friends or something, you know? I looked for your phone number, because you said you'd give it to me, but i cant find it, otherwise i would call you. It's hot here, how is the weather there? I want to be home because i have some stuff in the mail coming to help me build up my muscles. Its good stuff, but it taste like milk that has gone bad if you don't mix it just right. I know its probably sitting on my porch and my freak neighbor is probably gonna take it. He's a little strange sometimes and makes all these noises at night, like he's a animal or something, growling and moaning and stuff like that. Its pretty scary sometimes, but he's ok, i guess. you can meet him when we get back. Will you text me? Jake
I love the way you smell on an early Spring morning, the way the sun sets in your hills. I love your nerdy charm, your (fairly) inexpensive housing. I love that by driving two hours in any direction, I will be in the mountains or on the beach. I love your close proximity to farms, your devotion to beer, your wonderful street food, your attitude towards nature.
But after two years of tireless effort of trying to break into an industry that apparently you are “known” for, it’s time to call it quits. I can no longer linger in two low-paying jobs, in the hopes of one day being promoted. I can no longer simply settle for pay that is “good enough”. I can no longer afford to do another internship. I can no longer do free craigslist work for my already overwrought portfolio. I can no longer spend hours crafting a perfect resume, just to have it thrown into the void. I can no longer chase my dreams in a city that prides itself in doing the bare minimum. My 20’s are not going to last much longer.
Something has got to give, Portland, and I’m afraid it’s you.
Dear Perv employees,
To those working at a certain theatre on April 25th. My girlfriend and I appreciate the opportunity to share oral moments and some subsequent mind blowing seat - sex in your back row in a 100% EMPTY theatre. (Maybe try some new marketing techniques, we understood we were the only paying customers.) We also understand expressing our love for over 20 minutes, before you pervy staff, came in and finally decided it wasn't ok to have sex, since they couldn't get a clear view on their camera any longer. Yes, a camera. Literally said "We got it on camera, and umm.. you guys gotta go." My amazing partner and I feel gifted for the moment of a life time and ability to make grown men act like cowards, once they realized they were the ones whom should have authorities called for watching our breath taking - borrowing of universal bliss - filled energy; before manning up and finally deciding maybe they shouldn't have evidence of watching their customers pay their mortgage, prior to selling this video online.
No apologies on our end, we have a calling to express our tantric connection in Portland across the Universe.
We walked out proud of our public/yet private, sexual experience, with bragging rights of being kicked out, and the theatre staff got to watch some super hot live action porn. Kudos to both.
I'm going to be married in the Fall, at a little church in Sellwood. After 2 years of dating, he finally asked and I said yes. Here's the thing: I don't love him. I have never loved him, but I have been waiting to marry him. I've tolerated our relationship, and I've put on such a happy face that no one would know I am not in love. I'm just so tired of the single life, and I'm tired of never being able to make ends meet on my own. My fiance is a wealthy man, a very wealthy man. He hasn't showered me with tons of gifts, but he has been very generous. I want more, though. I want security. I want to be able to make more decisions about my life. So, I plan on marrying him, "sticking it out" for 2 more years and then divorcing him. I'll get half of what he has and then I will finally be able to have more freedom, to not have to worry, and to not have to work. I know it's a fucked up thing for me to do to this man, but I see no other way out. Women are underpaid, and the obstacles we face, you men cannot comprehend. This is my way out, this is my ticket. He and his family have no idea of my plan, they all are so happy. I just want to apologize to all of them in advance, for breaking his heart and taking his money. I am sorry.
On the below note. What is up with Portland's planning?
Just in the last month:
- historical buildings being razed to make room for condos
- nice bar downtown shut down for two over capacity violations and yet certain bars in Old Town live on
- a certain educational group that recently set up in Portland to produce expensive hyped up lectures were allowed to destroy a floor full of vintage tyling for a pop up shop
And countless more. Is the development commission really so stupid as to allow this shit to happen? Or corrupt (in the case of a major chain that owns said Old Town bars?)
I'll admit I'm not happy to have you in the neighborhood. You took over a corner that was awesome. It had a nice little pizza and delicious sandwich shop, a gelato place where a gaggle of Eastern Europeans would get together for coffee, cigarettes and loud conversation.
It had a Portland institution greasy spoon. All in all one of the few little spots in my neighborhood that wasn't bro-y or ridiculously trendy.
I don't know the ins and outs of the deal. Word on the street is the leases were ripped out from the tenants with little warning and then transferred to you because one of the businesses wanted to remodel the building. Shady as all fuck but that's the way shit goes I guess.
But what's replacing these businesses? Some bullshit hipster icecream place and ANOTHER FUCKING SUSHI RESTAURANT. OH JOY. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY SUSHI RESTAURANTS THERE ARE IN A MILE RADIUS OF WHERE YOU SET UP? OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD I CAN THINK OF 10. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
So not happy to have you around in the first place.
But your craftsmen are making this so much worse. From 7:00am on, sanding, cutting, talking loudly and generally being obnoxious. Here's a thought, if you don't want to piss your neighbors off anymore, just wait that hour until people head off for work. I get that you don't have to but come the fuck on. A little consideration goes a long way.
Probably not enough for me to eat at that fucking sushi restaurant though.
On and woman who probably part owns the hipster ice cream place? I was sitting behind that car when you backed in to it. They got a note with your license plate number just in case you did some damage. :) Because you certainly gave no fucks.
Welcome to the neighborhood assholes.
If classical music can supposedly make you smarter, doesn't it stand to reason that other genres can make you stupid? I'm talking about that mind-blowing STUPID music called Ranchero. Dear fucking Lord, is there any music more annoying than Ranchero? It sounds like the fucking circus has come to town. I have neighbors across the street that insist on playing that shit at random hours of the fucking day. And let me tell ya, they don't appear to be the brightest bulbs. One of them took a piss on their driveway last week, because apparently the bathroom was too far. Trash and debris littered about their yard, yet their chrome plated trucks couldn't be shinier. They don't appear to have enough brain cells to rub together so that they can form any kind of thought process as to why NO ONE else on the block plays their music that loud. I mean, it's pretty bad when people can tell you're stupid just by looking at you. Dumb loves loud music, for it feeds some simple urge that lays within. That, and pissing on the driveway...like we all wanted to see your small penis, you fucking circus pig. Fuck!
It’s that moment of panic when you realize you’re totally in the wrong. Some people respond by calmly and rationally apologizing. When I was in this situation a few weeks ago, I responded by acting like a complete and total dickwad and blaming everyone but myself. I was biking home, and failed to make adequate clearance to cross the intersection in front of my apartment. The situation wasn’t dangerous, but somebody in a car honked at me, as they had every right to do. I responded by screaming, “Crosswalk, asshole!” as if the fact that I was riding my bike across a *crosswalk* without making clearance somehow made the situation not my fault. A passing pedestrian then informed me that I was the asshole (clearly), and I cursed at that person as well. I have no excuses for my actions. I sincerely apologize to both those parties and anyone else who chanced to see my reprehensible behavior. As was pointed out to me, I truly was the asshole. Mea culpa.
To the British tourist who I slapped; to the lady who I freaked the shit out of down on east burnside, to the poor bastard who's car i attempted to climb into, and most importantly, to the patrons of Belmont’s coolest bar (the Vern)... what can I say? I had some weird reaction involving an SSRI drug I recently started. oh and the cabbie too, sorry man. i love this town's vibe more than anything, and i violated it. i beg y'all if you are taking any SSRi to not drink excessively, it can get fucked!
Who the fuck are you looking for? I have applied for your job opening and gone to a group interview, but I still got rejected. You picked a candidate who was well over qualified for the position to be in my interview group but it looks like that backfired for you. You said you would let us know if we made it to the second round by the end of the week, but I was told you found someone to fill in the position. Then I saw you posted the job again the next week. Like some idiot who doesn’t know any better I applied again because I fit the description of the candidate you are looking for perfectly. I assumed that you picked the overqualified person because you can’t pass on cheap labor but it looks like he actually got a job he was more qualified for sine you had to post the job opening gain. A week passes and I don’t hear anything. Then today you post the position again. What the fuck? You are only offering $13 an hour for the job. Why are you being so picky? I currently make more money at my current job and do way less than what you want the new person to do for your company but I want to work in your field. You have posted the job four times in a one month span but yet ignore me. In my cover letter I even offered to just do an internship. I just don’t understand why you don’t want to hire a person who wants to work for you and is qualified for the job.
I don't wash my hands. Not often, at least. Why? Because I despise most people, and I'd probably despise you. People are stupid, just look at the typical Republican voter, or Occupier. I feign politeness with people at work and in social settings, but inside I am actively hating them. Since I have this hate inside me, I want to inflict pain on the outside. Not in a physical sense, but in a smaller, microscopic way. So, I don't wash my hands after I piss or take a shit. I intentionally move my hand up and down door handles to make sure I coat them well. When I sneeze, I do it on my hand, hold it closed to keep the goo and disease warm and active, then rub it on the nearest door handle. I try to spread my bodily waste all over, so that people can be exposed to it. I relish the thought of my fecal matter or mucus being unknowingly picked up by another person. I'm a sick fuck and I'm a passive aggressive asshole, I know this. I guess spreading my shit around is a "thing" that I have. We all have hobbies, don't we?
I recognized you by your rotten teeth, and your husband by his eyes. I caught your eye for a moment and I am not sure weather or not you recognized me. We barely spoke when we saw each other in court. While you and the father of your two children were relaxing having coffee and reading the paper in the deli seating area I wondered if you knew I had been on the phone twice already that morning with therapists, making arrangements for your five-year old daughter. Or that my husband had driven almost twenty miles before nine am so your two children could visit each other at a safe place, surrounded by therapists and DHS workers who actually care about them. Seeing the two of you sitting quietly made me consider for a moment that you may not be the monsters I know you really are. I know you are monsters because I am the foster mom that holds your sweet innocent little girl as she howls and screams every night because she is out of her mind with terror. And I am the one who hears the stories I don't tell anyone except our social worker. Your daughter is safe with us. Your son is safe with someone else. I really hope you two enjoyed yourselves, because it will be a very long time before your children do.
Portland is pretty lame; practically shutting down at around 11 p.m. People are freakishly nice out here it's creepy. I can't say that I hate Portland, it's alright and I think it's like any average U.S. city, say Boise.
I've lived in a bunch of crappy cities and traveled to a few 3rd world or "developing" shit holes that makes Portland seem really enticing. But what's with all this keep it weird crap? What exactly is weird out here? That it's fashionable to look like an emo dirt merchant who just went dumpster diving? No, it's not weird, it's ordinary. Hipsters are banal, the bars are average and the Mexican food isn't bad. Every now and then cool stuff happens, but I can't remember what it was.
I generally dislike people, but I'm forced to discuss how my day is by some hokey cashier with a shit eating grin. Really? You wanna know how my day is going? How about fuck you it's going? I know, I'm miserable, but people simmer down and let's not get too excited that you're counting my change.
Portland is a hospitable city and I like not being woken up by gunfire or having to deal with dengue. I enjoy the laid back attitude, the surrounding wilderness and shit. To me Portland is like a big ass suburbia sprinkled with a few meth heads and random minorities. No one really stands out much and it's relatively quiet. Oh yeah, the drivers out here suck a donkey's dick.
I know it was you that smashed chewed-up gum into the driver's side lock of my car. It was also you who splattered what appeared to be a handful of refried beans along the passenger side a few weeks later. You're just pathetic. That's the conclusion I've come to after being your downstairs neighbor for five months. My roommate and I hear your constant stomping around - evidence that you never leave the apartment, and therefore have no life. We also hear you drop heavy things several times every single day. Maybe if you got out more you'd at least acquire some coordination. I used to get mad at how loud and inconsiderate you were, which is why I tried to talk to you that one time. I even suggested it was the crappiness of this old building that was partly to blame. At the time, your flippant response made me think you're an asshole. Now I'm certain you're just a pitiful loser with no purpose but to violate floorboards and vandalize cars.
Eye drops and nail fungus drops shdnt be sold in identical pkgs. Nearly blinding mishap this morning due to this, KAISER URGENT CARE, etc. not me, someone VERY CLOSE, EVEN WORSE! How can fda approve this OBVIOUSLY DANGEROUS similarity? why do we pay taxes? do we have a lawsuit here? i am furious this nearly ruined my loves life. what rights, if any, do we have? I mean, eye drops are often used by people w impaired vision. I am certain this exact sh*t has happened countles times due to corporate cheapness n greed. We are all in danger from all sides, getting ripped off by the evil corporate takeover of all usa made items and outsourcing to CHINA.
Watch your every move, they are out to eliminate us, sounds crazy but i feel it. Apocalyptic terror!
31 minutes ago That is so bizarre, whenever I get ANYTHING from Kaiser pharmacy (more and more throughout the years, my night stand pillbox looks like Judy Garland's) they go through a mind-numbing time-sucking, but fortunately non-blinding examination and reexamination of the item and (if it it is first use or reuse) a mind-numbing time-sucking explanation of possible side effects (a la tv commercial).
28 minutes ago He has another appt tomrw. He is ok, Wildly horrible start to what was to be a long day of nuthin. Wish i could handle my liquor, i would have a half caraffe o wine. Bh wil have to do.
33 minutes ago I make a living as a nurse....my livelihood depends on shit like this.....and car accidents and illness and stupidity
You rifled through my car last night, leaving the trunk ajar and draining the battery. I diligently sifted through everything and as far as I can tell, all you got for your invasion was the old grungy penny that was sitting in the cup holder.
Don't spend it all in one place.
I hate cops, let me just get that out of the way right from the start. My friend and I got arrested at the Occupy last year, and the fucking cops manhandled our asses. We got bruised up they almost broke my hand, all while having shit-eating grins under their riot masks. So, I fucking hate them. My dilemma is this: last week I was at my girlfriend's apartment when we heard her car alarm go off. We ran out and these two dudes had broken her window and were stealing shit. I ran up and coldcocked one motherfucker and he hit the ground. Immediately, I get hit in the head and everything starts to turn black. I fall to the ground and by this point, my girl is attacking the dude that sucker-punched me. As I lay there on the street, dazed and confused, I see this dude grab my girl and start slapping and pulling her hair. I reached for my cell phone and thought, "I could dial 911, but I hate the cops". I put my phone down and tried to get up, but I got dizzy and fell back down. I couldn't reach my girl, and it was tearing me up inside. Back to the phone, I thought, "I need help, she needs help, but I hate the cops, who do I call?" All I saw before I passed out was my girl hitting the asphalt and the dudes running away. Thinking about all of this, I sort of feel guilty, like there was something more I could've done to help her, but what could I have done? I was hurt and couldn't get up, and I couldn't call 911 because I hate the cops.
spilt beer at concert
new blouse no apology
thanks a lot fuck face
I'm not much of a freak but I must confess:
I love going to ultra sterile environments and I love a gal in uniform, especially lab coats. The veterinary clinic is a HUGE example of a turn on for me. All my kinks under one (semi-affordable)roof, plus, my cat gets the care she may need. As a responsible pet owner, I take my cat "Chaz" to a certain clinic as per recommended. The place is great and the ladies are hot. Also, not once has anyone batted an eye when, 6 years ago, I filled out the paper work for Chaz. Under "name" I didn't write Chaz, I wrote Pussy.
I'm short, so what? Im overweight too and sometimes I don't do my laundry for a week. I sit around and game most days. You may have seen me around town standing at a bus stop and if your a dick, you probably said some shitty thing to me. My hair is long and I have a scraggly goatee with a few zits scattered about my face. I dont have a girlfriend, which Im sure to some of you dicks out there comes as no surprise. As you might suspect, I don't have alot of self-esteem. I've lived a life most of you will never know. I've had sex once, and I'm 34 years old. I've sort of given up on ever having a real life, with a family and all. That's never been in the cards for me. When I went out the other day and ate 2 burritos from the new mexican place around the corner, I didn't know they wouldn't sit well. I ususally have a strong stomach, but not with these things. I tried to take the bus home, but I couldn't. So, when you saw me drop my pants and take a huge shit that exploded on the side of that Tri-Met trash can, I'm sure it grossed you out. But, living the life I have lived, I kinda didn't care. I was surprised at how little shame I had. I don't know how to feel about this.
I saw you Mr. Police Radar Guy. I saw you set up that "Photo Radar Enforced" sign intentionally out of sight. You placed it on the sidewalk, in between a parked car and a bus stop and there is NO way in hell that someone driving by could see it. I assume that this sign being placed out is the law, to give drivers "fair" warning of your fat ass parked 2 blocks down. Sign out of sight, you did, in fact, drive 2 blocks down and hid your van in front of more parked cars. Cars driving by and flashed bulbs lit up as pictures were taken, racking up the tickets to pad your budget. Do you feel good about yourself, being all sneaky about that sign? Do you go home at the end of the day and actually feel that you've made a difference in the world? Did you dream of being an asshole cop hiding like a rat to catch speeders when you were a kid? Do you pat yourself on the back because you're so very proud of keeping our society safe from speeders going 2-3 miles over the limit? I bet you do, you sign hiding, talk radio show listening, front seat staining, stomach ever expanding shell of a man. What an ass!
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