Jesus, coworker asshat, your cod smells like a fucking rat crawled under your desk and died three weeks ago. Seriously... COD?!? in a shared office?
I ain't from here, a non-native as it were, just like the majority of YOU are. California is where I was born and raised, on the playground spent most of my days... and you know the rest. Growing up, I truly experienced this melting pot that people speak of. I had brown friends, black friends, Asian and white, all the colors of the Benetton rainbow. A different social status was had by all, no matter the color. Moving up here in the mid 90's, I was amazed at how fucking white it was. Everywhere you go, it's just white, white, white, white, white, white, white! Man, oh man, that pale pink skin just kinda grosses me out sometimes. All the minorities are in their place here, at the bottom where you white folks like them...or at least expect them to be. It's a shame that as progressive as Portland claims to be, the minorities can't move up the social ladder. Standing on the side of the road looking for work, or getting shot in the back by the cops, the non-Caucasian folk sure have it rough. A godforsaken sea of eternal white...ugh. Gives me the shivers just imagining what those skinny white guys look like in the buff, all pale and gross and looking prepubescent. l think I'm gonna puke now: Barf.
It was bad enough when I saw you standing on the corner of 14th and Everett, leash in hand, oblivious, waiting for the walk light while your dog stood, unleashed, in the middle of 14th as traffic tried to maneuver around it.
But you had to top that, half block later, when your dog shit in front of my office door. I had just parked, was walking to get my parking ticket, and watched you walk away, steaming pile of freshly squeezed dog turds sitting there like Alpo soft serve. When I yelled after you whether you wanted to come clean that up, and if you needed a bag, your response was to walk back, scoop up the dog shit with your bare hand, and fling it at me. First, your aim sucks. Second, no, I'm not shaking your hand. And third, seriously, thanks for proving to the scientific community that humans are closely related to chimps.
There are good dog owners, bad dog owners, and crazy dog owners. Then there's you, ass in a hat, walking around the Pearl with the sweet smell of your dog's butt on your hand.
There is a direct correlation between the more sun being in the sky and idiots playing their music loudly. From Ranchero music blaring out of chrome-plated trucks, to Hip Hop coming from cars so low that the muffler scrapes the street, to classic rock being pumped out of a crappy Camaro. More sun equals more noise! Like in nature, certain mammals change their behavior to correspond with the seasons. The dumb love sunny days, for it triggers something inside of them that makes them think it's a great idea to show the world how stupid they are. Unfortunately, I get to experience the Ranchero side of things and I can't fucking stand it. Circus music bass lines rattling my windows while hours of car washing takes place across the street. If they would only keep their yard as clean as their vehicles, I might let the loud music slide. Perhaps a slashing of a tire is in order tonight. I sometimes hate sunny days.
Rules for most Portland bands I see, besides doom metal. Soundcheck for 20 mins and have all your friends come up to you and tell you how great you are.(They're lying).While were at it, play with your stage outfit and/or hairstyle. Or every song you play could sound the same. Or you have at least one female member in your band. If you don't have a female, at least one member has facial hair. Or your merch/gimmick has to make up for the fact your sound sucks.Pretty much concerned with everything else except the music. "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?" The answer is, "Practice".
Hey, you. Protip: If you want to build credibility with strangers, don't stomp out of the room in a huff when you don't like the conversation. And your shitty facebook comment, that you used in place of sticking around for the duration of the meeting? A sad testament that "queer" does not always equal good politics, or even being basically thoughtful. Good luck at Forever 21.
Hey douchecanoe! Thanks for stealing my purse at the Wishing Well a couple of hours ago while I was singing karaoke! Oh yeah, and my leather jacket from Target and my fugly gray thrift-store sweater. Did you REALLY need to take that sweater? The one with orange buttons I loved that looks like a Cosby sweater after it got eaten and shat out by moles? Yeah, thanks. I hope you felt at least a twinge of guilt when you realized my month's supply of anti-anxiety pills were in there too. I'm going to fuck you in the ass with a tire iron.
You are an asshole! I know you have to realize that your goat is bAAAAHHHH-ing CONTINUOUSLY from sun up to sun down. The noises are sad and pitiful and are made even more so by the way the poor thing stares at your door looking for someone to interact with it. I'm no goat whisperer but even I know that goats are HERD ANIMALS. Meaning they like to be around other goats. Your goat is lonely, you stupid dickchunk! Pay attention to it, get it a friend or give it to someone who won't leave it alone ALL DAY LONG. Its mournful goaty cries are giving me, and probably the rest of your neighbors, a serious case of the sads.
Btw, what the fuck is a party favor? That was the last question I posed in an email exchange last summer with a lady I'll refer to as nancy. She had a W4M ad in the casual encounter section of CL.
Im not the greatest looking guy and the dry spell was pretty unbearable. Mix that with booze and porn and you got yourself a fatso driving out to Gresham to fuck a fatty( I've never met).
I show up. Kids are at their dads. The place smells like sugar and mold. We have nothing in common but our height. I bring 20 dollar champagne, beers, some white, and a viagra. I need the pill as nancy is butter face.. We get loaded and start dryhumping on couch. Moments later we're butt naked and nancy starts making weird groaning noises. Noises that begin to ruin it. Big time. We give it another go and kinda pull it off but now, post ejact, I'm bummed. The smells. The heat. The pictures on the walls on my way to the pisser.
Nancy, if you read this, sorry. I tried the wrong door and ended up in the garage which led to the yard and then my car. I hope you found a good home for my shoes.
This whole Ann Romney thing, about her not working, is just leaving me speechless. It took me some time to gather my composure after I heard of this vicious attack thrust upon poor Ann. I, too, am a stay at home mom and I'm really outraged. No, we're not as wealthy as the Romneys, but we struggle just the same. I think we make about half of what they do, kind of a living month to month sort of thing. If you look up into the West Hills, you'll see that large castle-like house to the left of the tower, that's our house. It's not as big as the Romney's, but it's ours. It's definitely a fixer with only 4 bathrooms! When we look down on you people, and I don't mean that in a classist sense, I mean that we're literally looking down on you, we really feel a sense of connection. We love you people, especially the stay at home moms like myself. I hope you mothers are outraged too, since only we know the hard work we put in. When our nannies and chauffeurs take the day off, only you and I know how hard it can be raising our children for the day, especially on a budget. Am I right, ladies?
I get the whole "stop breeding" thing, I really do. But, some of you people are just plain dicks about it. The world is definitely overpopulated and we, as a species, need to quit popping out them babies. What I don't get is all the negativity and WHINING that comes from these anti-breeding people. You people are just plain sad. I bet you were little spoiled shits when you were kids, right? Hey, your parents decided to breed, are they assholes for it? Your parents raised a self-righteous little prick who gripes and complains all day long, so maybe they are assholes. Education is what we need, not a bunch of grumpy old dipshits doing nothing more than spray painting stop signs. How pathetic is that? "Hey man, I'm totally gonna paint the word 'Breeding' under the word 'Stop', that'll show 'em!" "Show them what, that you're a dumbshit?" "Wha?" If you really want to curb people from breeding, then certainly don't vote for a Republican, those psychos want no end to breeding, for "God will provide". Whatever. If I was a kid today, I'd egg the fuck out of your house, that'd show you.
To the asshole on Woodstock and 52nd, halfway in the intersection on the unprotected left, who saw me coming quick for the yellow light, and decided to lay on his horn, bringing me to a confused halt, at which you glared at me as you took a left in front of me while the last few seconds of that precious yellow turned to red, I say, fuck you, and I will feast on your organs. If you ever pull that shit again in your raggedy ass just-come-from-a-hit-and-run-looking Volvo, I will show you what you've been missing, from living in a city with so little road rage.
I am the parent of two teenagers and from the day that they could comprehend things, I've taught them to beware of strangers. We've all been taught this when we were young, weren't we? They have a program they teach in school called "Stranger Danger" and they have an alert system called Amber Alert that is activated in the event a child is abducted. I've read that a child has the best chance of escape before they are actually thrown into a vehicle and during this short time, the child must do whatever they can to get away: fight, scream and gouge out the eyes if necessary. You're fighting for your life in those few precious seconds. I don't sit around all day scaring my kids, but they do know of the danger. They know to fight and they know to run. I can't believe that I've been wrong this entire time. What I should have taught them is to let a stranger approach them. Do whatever the stranger tells you. Don't fight the stranger, don't run and don't scream if you're physically confronted. Do nothing at all. Assume this stranger is a diligent protector of freedom, a guardian of liberty who's protecting life, limb and property. Do everything this nice stranger tells you to do. Because if you don't, and you fight back or scream, this freedom fighter has the right, under the Constitution, to shoot you point blank in the chest and take your life. And you know what kids? You're going to be to blame for it and it's going to be your fault for doing everything that I have taught you.
Hi! Remember me? You fired a gun at my car last weekend-from 4 feet away-and missed! Guess what? As you may remember I have a faster car, no fear of death and a desire for vengence! Oh and I got your friends' license plate number. Good job trying to get me on those side streets, too bad I am smarter than you. See you next weekend by the Copper Penny! Yeah did not call the cops cause I hate them even more than you do. Instead I will take my own revenge. See ya!
I think it's great you bike! It's a super efficient way to get around and fun way to shed a few pounds. But I'm pretty sure that blue Trek with the shocks on the front that you seem to favor has more than one gear. Pedaling a million miles an hour in gear 1-1 isn't getting anyone to the Freddie's recycling center any faster. Take that grip shifter in your right hand and just turn in forward a notch; maybe two! Maybe even up to 5! Then you can do the same with your left — take it to the 2! Easy now, you're no Thor Hushovd — yet. Come Autumn though, you'll be thinking that gear 2-4 is like baby stuff. Next time, we'll talk about which side of the road to ride on.
When you buy a pure breed puppy for $150 from a web site - it is a puppy mill dog. Your dog probably was not vaccinated, wormed, or cared well for. When a dog is coughing, it is SICK and probably very contagious. Letting your puppy run at a dog park, drink water from communal bowls, and lick other dogs while coughing is completely irresponsible. My dog is sick now and if I could I would collect a vet fee from you for every dog you made sick at the park. Please read a basic guide for disease and responsible dog handling. You puppy is the most at risk - germs like PARVO will kill your dog if you aren't careful.
For all you out there that get on Trimet and feel the need to talk on your phones, really.. I know it is nice to talk to Grandma but come on, not to mention the lady yesterday who was calling about a job and had to keep asking the people to repeat them selves I don’t think that is to good of an impression and not to leave out the girl who is trying to get a hold of her lawyer over a MV accident, to the lady who is talking to her friend about all her physical ailments and my favorite the kid who is haggeling over the price of a dime bag of weed!! I would think you would all want your privacy but I guess not. In any case, as a rider also, I really could give two shits, you are all loud, rude and annoying. Save it for Ma Bell!
Hang up and ride!!
I became the lucky recipient of a large sum of money at the tender age of 20. I didn't do anything to deserve it, I merely shared the same blood with someone who did do something to deserve it. How much, you ask? Let's just say that I am recession-proof. I get to see things from the eyes of the 1%, I am privy to "gatherings" where plans are laid out, "donations" requested and "support" desired. I am invited to these so-called "events" where the powerful and elite devise their plans to make themselves richer. Don't get me wrong, I never support these groups, but I guess you could say that I experience what it's like "behind enemy lines". I'm writing this to say that I think it's very sad that some of the working class out there actually vote for politicians (Republicans) who represent the elite. They happily sign away their livelihoods and dignity, simply because some politician tells them lies that they are all too ready to hear. And I hate to say it, but these millionaires and billionaires are actually laughing at the people who vote against their best interests. I just don't get it and it makes me sad. When you're at the top like me, whether you've earned it or not, it's a different world with different rules. I just wonder if and when these voters will ever wake up. I hate to say it, but it doesn't really matter if you agree or disagree with me, I'm at the top and you're not. And I also hate to say that I know the truth and you don't. Lucky me.
So when there's a line a couple dozen deep in between sets at a show it definitely isn't the appropriate time to jump in the bathroom with some dude and blow him. I know you're a horny shit but could you wait until the bands start up again and there isn't such a need for urgency? It may be a tad more discreet as well. Also, if you really gotta do that wiping your mouth as you leave makes you look even trashier than I thought possible. Use the toilet paper and a bit of water. Or just take a piss and blow someone after the show or in an alleyway instead. You'd be less of a douche.
After dutifully perusing the weekend work of my beloved I, Anon blog contributors, it has come to my attention that the gender war has launched itself onto a new front. It’s taken some catch-up work, but I’ve been reading your poorly constructed arguments of the merits, and demerits, of the opposite sex. Honestly, how could I not? You’ve littered them both in anonymous postings and semi-anonymous, yet rambling and ridiculous, comment sections.
As a person with a deep sense of despair towards human idiocy, I am greatly saddened by this turn of events. You know I like and respect you Anonymous? I want you to succeed. So with some careful thought, and loving encouragement from my partner, I believe I’ve come up with a solution for this too-familiar problem: If you hate the opposite sex so much, it's time to love up on your own gender. There's a ton of merit in a homosexual life, and god knows we're always recruiting.
Now, I respect your intelligence, so I'm not going to lie to you. Switching your sexual orientation is going to take some work on your part. There are certain compromises you're going to have to make. You’re also going to need to learn a whole new sexual vocabulary. You’re a Mercury reader, so Dan Savage has brought you up on Queer 101. There may be awkward moments with your friends and family as they get use to the new, more fabulous you. I encourage you to look on the bright side! If you can't get married, you can't get divorced!
If sobriety is what you want, what the hell are you doing bumping into me at bars?? You dumped me so you could "get sober" and "figure out who you are"; so I'm asking why I saw you at our old "Winchester" the day after I came to get my things from your place? I wasted away a year of my life catering to your every need (which includes but is not limited to: babysitting your son when you had to go to "band practice"; being your personal grocery shopper/cook/maid; paying your band rent when you were broke; all while being your personal chauffeur because you lost your license due to the fact you won't pay your tickets or your taxes). I am now going to be "that bitch" and declare before the whole world (through this Portland Mercury) that I now lay claim to every bar in town; and if you need to "figure yourself out" by becoming sober, by all means do it...however don't think it's something you can accomplish by hanging out in bars. Alcoholism is something that maybe a twelve step program could solve; or possibly even something getting a job could solve; alcoholism might even be something spending more time with your son could solve. Who knows? All I know is that if you dump someone for the sake of sobriety (among other things), don't be "that asshole" that finds himself sitting right next to the person he just dumped AT A BAR!! It's finally time for me to be selfish so here it goes...if the bar exists within Multnomah County...it is now mine; so stay the hell out!! -Anonymous
I hope you are enjoying whoring/slacking your way through your thirties and forties (seriously?) in search of the perfect mate/job while postponing any shred of material or emotional responsibility in life.
The thing I don't get is: What is so scary about being an adult? About having kids? About liking your non-flashy job or feeling ambivalent about ironic facial hair and tattoos? Remind me why my life sucks more than your so-called "FUN" life?
I can tell you that as a married man with kids who likes my job: my chances of offing myself at my own hand are less than yours; I am getting more sex than you are and enjoying it; I won't die alone when at 56 I realize that THEORETICALLY as a man I can have kids into my 40s and 50s but that no self respecting woman of reproductive age is going to want my grizzled ass.
Same goes for you ladies.
You won't all be cute and care-free forever. In no time you'll be in a job that was fun as a 30 something but ridiculous as a 40/50 something. You know what having five roommates is called when you are 50? Assisted living.
I know you think marraige and kids passe, but who do you think is going to be paying your social security, creating relevant art, making lattes ? My kids. You are welcome.
Once your parents die and your siblings are all coupled and busy with their own families, no one will be left to give a rat's ass about you. Good thing you don't have health insurance and aren't likely to live past then anyway?
Dear Diary, Look at what's happened to me, I can't believe it myself. I think I've met the girl of my dreams. Suddenly I'm up on top of the world, it should've been somebody else, but it's me! I didn't think it would happen.
I was down in the dumps, but believe it or not, I'm walking on air. I never thought I could feel so free. I feel like I'm flying away on a wing and a prayer. When I look in the mirror, I ask myself "Who could it be? Believe it or not it's just me".
I've done the online thing, but now it's like a light of a new day and it came from out of the blue. I met her in "real" life, when I was least expecting it. This feeling I have is breaking me out of the spell I was in, making all of my wishes come true.
I feel so happy I could fly.
Literally, fly up in the sky!
It's a little hard to be anonymous when you are in my shoes, since apparently I am the most famous undesirable in town. Between nearly weekly appearances in Busted, and a feature photo of me in the Tribune (all for not having train fare) I am famous. So when I saw your knowing smirk and sidelong glance at the box office girl when I walked up to your theater I knew it was a bad omen. Searching for something to do on a Saturday night, I spot a local comedy figure walking nearby. Talking on his phone about a set he was to do later that night. I asked him where it was, and he directed me to your theater. When I approached the theater, the aforementioned douchey doorman smirked and when I asked him the cover for the evening he told me it was $20. This clearly was a lie, and he was quoting me an outrageous figure in an attempt to get me to not come into his establishment. He got his wish. Aside from simply being a dickhead move, I have to wonder about its legality. With recent allegations of discrimination against women in gay clubs for similar acts (selectively raising prices), I wonder if I have an actual case of discrimination that I could pursue. Either way, you can eat shit and die, douchey theater doorman. And I'm sure the comedian (or other performers) would appreciate knowing that people who want to see them are being given unfair barriers to entry.
If there are more that 3 people waiting behind you while you lazily paw your way through the latest Redbox titles you really need to just pick something or get the fuck out of the way. Some of us have actually reserved movies through the web or Android/iPhone apps and just want to pick up our movies, not stand there and watch some douchebag making the difficult decision on which Adam Sandler masterpiece to rent.
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