I just want to give a shout out to the dickbag tour guide who has the schtick about calling Salmon Street Springs the “take a shower you dirty, fucking hippy” fountain. “And there should be shampoo and conditioner dispensers! Ha! Ha!” I get it. You make shit wages with no benefits for the privilege of showing off “weird” Portland to a bunch of mealy tourists who will all go home and feel better about their mundane, normal lives because once they trusted a fedora-wearing, sailor mouthed tour guide to take them on a walk on the wild side. They’ll say, “Whew! We survived and it sure is a good thing our town isn’t weird and dirty like Portland. I sure did like those Voodoo Donuts, though!”
You know what? The “weird” is inseparable from Portland’s greatest virtues, which are understanding, tolerance and acceptance, you piece of shit. Without acceptance, there would be no Voodoo Donuts. Without tolerance, there would be no Pioneer Courthouse Square. Without understanding there would be no Tom McCall Waterfront Park and the Mt. Hood Freeway would have made huge chunks of the eastside unlivable.
I don’t know about you, but I grew up here. I don’t want people laughing at my city. I want people to go home and be inspired to create a little bit of awesome in their own hometown. You may have a crap job herding around a bunch of people who were too lame to learn how to explore a new city on their own, but you could at least not be a dick about it.
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