Quit bitching and moaning and giving me the details of the life you fucked up stupidly on purpose and are paying for now already. I got problems of my own that I don't lay on you but they are worse. I just don't feel the need to try and slap you down with the "Oh gee that's terrible but what I'm going through is way WORSE than that." Just suck it up and get on with life.
Dear new transplants to Portland,
No doubt you've enjoyed our awesome summers, the beers, the women on bikes, the food carts, house parties, etc. Summer in Portland is dope and it's probably fulfilled your wildest Portlandia dreams. Right?
Well now the real Portland has shown it's wet, soggy face, and it's gonna mean mug us all for the next 8 months so here's the rule: If you have an umbrella and the person walking toward you doesn't, DON'T walk along the space under the awnings and leave the other folks to get soaked. Your umbrella does specifically what those awnings do: block out rain. You're essentially keeping your umbrella dry while leaving other people to get drenched. WOMEN YOU SEEM TO BE THE MAIN CULPRIT OF THIS SHIT. I don't care if you're a lady, if you have an umbrella, get the fuck out from under the awnings and quit hugging the wall.
How and why this needs to be repeated every year is beyond me. I wish you fucktards with your fresh ink would move the fuck back to the midwest. FUCKITY FUCK FUCKERS!
To the guy at the Peter Hook concert last night:
I don't think you heard me but people who are actually, really, from Portland do not give a fuck if you think they're cool.
Also, it's just kind of standard concert etiquette to not stand directly in front of someone. I'm sorry if you thought my "dude really" comment was NOT COOL. But holy shit did you overreact and it was hilarious. Sorry you came here because you thought Portland was cool? I guess? NOT COOL
And to my new instructor, I'm a fucking adult. Yeah I'm late to the whole college game and you might be used to teaching 18 year old kids straight in. But I'm 35 fucking years old and paid for this course and the books (which hey thanks to the curriculum change cost 5x as much!) out of my pocket. I'm going to piss when I want to. I will never raise my hand. Sorry. And holy god if you try and discipline me for not doing that, I'll be so excited. Because good luck enforcing hand raising. That is actually a fight I want to get into for the sheer entertainment value.
Anyway, good-bye shittastic week. I won't miss ya.
Escalators are just faster stairs, people. If you are going to stand there and get fatter, please move to the right so people can move as their bodies are intended to.
I get it, I'm skinny. I'm trying to be less so, but it's actually a lot harder for me to do than you might think. I'm not going to attempt to numerate the hardships faced by skinny people or anything. The main hardship is chairs, as they are hard, and my ass is boney. That's not much to complain about.
There is, however, a certain type of jackass who feels the need to subject strangers to unoriginal attempts at body shaming, so I will say this:
If you, a stranger, are compelled to tell me that I "need to eat a sandwich", then you had better have a fucking sandwich for me. I'll be happy to oblige you by eating it right then and there. You can watch. Just don't pull this shit if you aren't prepared to provide the aforementioned sandwich.
I get it. You're hip, weird, edgy, smart, mysterious, and beautiful. So why do you walk/bike/lounge around looking like someone pissed in your Cheerios day after day? Look around you. This is a beautiful city! Pick your head up, unplug your goddamn headphones, smile, and acknowledge the people in your immediate presence. If you're really that unhappy, man/woman/queer the fuck up and get yourself some therapy and meds. Hate the weather? Move. Is your drinking and drug use causing your unhappiness? Then cut down or fucking stop. We are all in the same boat, the same existential crisis here. Try some humanity on for once.
Dear ComcastCenturylinkATTVerizonTmobileSprintClear and anyone else I've missed:
- Fuck you for replying to my "I'm not interested in a bundle" with an explanation of your bundles.
- Fuck you for gimmicking up your pricing.
- Fuck you for term contracts.
- Fuck you for your online chatbot suddenly appearing.
- Fuck you for being slimy over a fucking chat session (that takes much more effort than over the phone).
- Fuck you for managing to offer DSL that is slower than a 3G phone (I'm looking at you, Centurylink).
- Fuck you for offering wireless internet that doesn't work in the fucking rain in fucking Oregon (I'm looking at you, Clear).
- Fuck you Comcast for just being Comcast.
And a most hearty fuck you fuck you fuck you to ALL of you for refusing to answer a simple question with a simple answer. It's easier to schedule brain surgery than it is to get a straight answer of how fast is it and how much does it cost. That is COMPLETELY FUCKED UP.
I am a white, middle-aged, middle-class professional, who happens to be severely under-educated by contemporary standards. I completed two years of high school before embarking on my uninterrupted life of self-supporting work. I did receive some vocational-related certificates. But, they don't count.
I've always considered the GED a waste of time and money, and I am not sure if I've changed my mind. However, when I read in the news that the test is being changed at the end of the year, I decided to go take it. I wasn't the oldest person at any of the five tests. I saw people cry during the test.
If I told my wife, she would probably leave me. I definitely wouldn't get points at work. My friends' views of me would adjust, negatively. Who or what is a fraud?
Hey Neighborino! I noticed you tore off your porch and hired some dudes to start rebuilding said porch. We live in a nice area of the city with lots of old Craftsman style homes built around the turn of the century. I was hoping that you were going to restore the bastardization of a porch that was on your house before, but alas, you are fucking clueless. I was somewhat in shock several months later when I released what was shaping up, and now, mostly just appalled. Was a thousand dollars to hire an architect or designer too much money for you, so you thought you would design it yourself, or worse have your contractor do it for you? Your porch looks like some asshole glued on a modern, bracket exposed design from the suburbs. You do see all the other houses around right? You do realize that you are a fucking idiot who has taken a beautiful old home, and rather than restore it in a historically accurate manner that would reflect not only your house, but the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, taken it and fucked it up even worse, all while costing yourself money. You are not a designer, or an architect, but perhaps they can feature your house in a "don't let this happen to you" advertisement for local remodeling companies. In closing, I would like to say fuck you for making me look at your design crime, you fucking idiot.
I see you there several times a week smoking, drinking and hanging out with your friends near the fenced area that is posted No Camping. I have worked hard and supported myself since I was 14. I get up at 4 am 5 days a week to work my ass off and barely scrape by. No, I am not giving you my hard earned money and fuck you for harassing people who don't support your lifestyle. I do give money to disabled people and veterans and nice people who don't leave their trash lying around and don't harass me.
I don't know why you took the quick release out of my front wheel of my bike at Beulahland tonight. My wheel was secured to the frame and the bike staple via u-lock. I admit I was taken aback when I unlocked my bike and the front wheel fell clean off.
I certainly don't know why you wrapped most of the quick release in a soggy newspaper and left it sitting beside my bike.
But I know that you are a toilet.
my friends never call me. they facebook me to cancel plans. they stay with their boyfriends who they fight with constantly. they stay at their jobs that they hate. they keep watching tv and commuting. they are tired, always too tired.
i have tried to make new friends. i don't know how. everyone i meet wants to be famous in some way. or they like drama.
does anyone want to do something real? i don't mean anything big. i don't mean a political movement. i just mean go for a walk or make a dinner. hang out in the yard.
do you remember when it was summer break and you were out of school and the days were so long and slow? you were bored but in a good way. you could sit still back then, and you were happy with just a daydream. I was on the porch this summer with my knees pulled up to my chest and I felt a tiny drop of sweat creep down my leg. I was not texting.
I'm gettin' real tired of these super-sized prescription glasses and the ballerina bun trend. How can you walk around like that? I have to ask you to reconsider because I can no longer hold back a smerk or explosive laughter. You look dumb cuz you are dumb cuz you're following trends so that you appear to be fashionable but you are not fashionable because if you were fashionable then you would not be doing ugly magazine things, you would be doing original and creative things. That is the difference between having style/fashion sense and being creepy sheeeeeple. Quit being creepy sheeple.
I don't know what planet some of you are from. But it is not acceptable to strip butt naked in front of strangers at the gym. Its clear you've never played any kind of sports where changing in the locker room is neccesary because we don't even do that. Its disgusting. I'm new to Portland and to the public gym scene. No one wants to see your disgusting body.
To the woman on the bus ride home yesterday that yelled "OH MY GOD!!!!" and stood and pointed - causing the bus driver to slam on his brakes, launching all standing bus riders to the floor and creating a panic - people rushing the windows, trying to see what you were "OH MY GOD" ing - yeah, it was nothing. It was a shoeless guy standing in the center lane.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??!?!
Keep in mind this is the express bus coming straight from OHSU - do you know how many medically trained people went into triage mode? People who just worked 10-12hr shifts sincerely helping people, some in emergency situations?
When multiple pissed off people yelled, "Why did you do that??!!!", you fought back tears and stammered, "I... ummm... I don't know..." I suspect, you were trying to be funny or maybe you didn't intend for such a grand reaction. Nonetheless, fuck you.
It should be an interesting ride home tonight.
I love you Portland, but where are your good paying jobs?
In this town, $15 dollars an hour is considered the holy grail, and I can't even find anything close to that.
I would like to think it's not for lack of trying. I have two college degrees. I'm registered with several temp agencies. I try to send out at least three resumes a day. I hit the pavement at least twice a week. I'm constantly checking job boards, hanging out on linkedin, and bothering friends about potential networking.
And I still keep two part-time jobs so I can pay my bills in the meantime.
So Portland, I humbly ask you.... How did you get your job that breaks the $15 dollar an hour threshold? I don't mean to complain, I just want to know what the secret is.
But the fact that you couldn't even show up on TIME to the date we rescheduled and moved says way more about you as a person than how you feel about me. I get it, you're a sad, gay man who bought a house, filled it with a dog and now all your want is a husband to be as docile and subservient and void of personality as your dog. Cute. But, why the f*ck did you think asking someone like ME out would be an option?
I've stopped to talk to you ignorant 20-year-olds on Hawthorne and at 3rd and Morrison in the past and there are 5 things you need to Google to avoid another 5 decade loss for the cause you think you are helping with. Paul Erlich wrote The Population Bomb in 1968 when it was noted that 3rd world countries are overpopulated 5 decades ago. In 1971, the Concert For Bangledesh, George Harrison, Leon Russell, another decade-long attempt to save 3rd world children. Sally Struthers cries into the TV all through the 80's trying again, the Angelina Jolie method of saving kids all without abortions, pills, condoms. 1991 Micheal Jacksons We are the World, another try at the same failed method. Just stop and use the adoption money that probably doesn't make it to a kid anyway, to fund immediate abortions, pills, condoms or something that works. Anti-abortion Catholics say that technology will expand so all Gods children can be seated at the banquet of Christ. Send pictures of that table. I didn't buy an electric car and have only one child just to make resource room for your misguided adventure. Those that refuse to pay attention to History are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past. Funny how none of these unplanned births don't live at your house. Sad.
Dear badass. I get it, I used to be a vandal too. Walking up and down the city streets finding shit to fuck up just because I could. I don't hold it against you; everyone goes through that phase. But cutting squares out of motorcycle seats is a weird way to express it. If there is one thing I've learned since my prowling days it's that shit has a way of catching up with you. I know a little life advice my be tough to swallow so, if I ever find you, I'm cutting a god damn square out of your fucking thought to help you process it a little easier. Promise.
I can handle small talk about your vacation in the Caribbean’s with your wife and kids. I even appreciate you making me wait in a hospital gown with my knees pointed to the sky from being in stirrups, waiting ever so patiently for you to return from lunch, because you fit me in Monday when I called to reschedule my pap smear.
As much as I do appreciate you letting me cancel my pap smear and fitting me in the same day, I DRAW THE LINE AT YOU ROARING A BURP INTO MY VAGINA, REGARDLESS IF YOU HAVE A MEDICAL MASK ON OR NOT! I laughed so hard, my vagina clenched down on the speculum, and I think it pinched cervix.
OK, you don't want to wear a helmet, I don't give a fuck. You want to ride a fixie, or a banana bike, or a $5k yuppie stick, still, no fucks will be given. But when you don't have any lights on your bike at all, and it is dusk or dark, I can not see you. I ride a bike as well, and commuted on my bike for years, I know how the roads can be for bicyclists. Last night in inner SE around dusk, I came very close to creaming a bicyclist with no front light on his bike, like too fucking close, like again, this happens all to frequently in Ptown. But for fuck's sake, are your really so fucking stupid? Maybe this is just natural evolution working to reduce the gene pool of morons who don't put lights on their bike at night. Perhaps you deserved to be ground into the pavement by my 2 ton vehicle. Nevermind, carry on.
I’m sorry that they are doing construction. I’m sorry that there is a flagger controlling traffic for both us and oncoming traffic, and we have to share the same lane while construction is taking place. I’m sorry my little car doesn’t have mud flaps. I’m sorry that there is an abundance of small loose gravel all over the road. I’m sorry that as you slowly ride downhill in a construction area, that gravel is being thrown at your whole entire body, by every fucking passing car. I’m sorry that I’ve seen this happening to you every day for the past two weeks. I’m sorry that you don’t take a different route because violently pitched gravel to the head with no helmet on FUCKING SUCKS. I’m sorry that flinging your arms back and forth to protect your body from flinging gravel isn’t working. I’m sorry that your flinging arms made you bite ass this morning. I’m sorry that as you got up you yelled “fuck all of you, stop and just let me go first.” I’m sorry that the flagger pulled you aside as he continued to let traffic through.
BUT, I am proud of you for pushing the flagger dude aside, grabbing the Toyota's truck bed (right fucking in front of me) and scaling down the rest of the hill using the truck bed as a shield. Because that was fucking awesome.
I have some left over packing bubble wrap, I'll take it to my car for you. See you in the morning I'm sure.
I know this is a petty first world problem, but I'd like to make an offer to all baristas right here right now. I won't pour the top of my coffee into your trash can if you actually leave room for cream (which is why I presume you even ask this question in the first place). You can make overblown sounds of exasperation like I just riverdanced on your mom's taint as you did today when I poured a measly 1/4inch into the trash, but leaving a sliver as big as a piece of angelhair pasta around the lip of my cup does not "room for cream" make. Leaving room for cream has to be the easiest part of your job, how is this even happening?
Fresh off the max, Burger King in hand, just walking to my house when I see what must be three blocks lit up with police strobes. Someone's been up to some shit, clearly. And then the first cop stops me, takes my ID, telling me I fit the description. After verifying that I am not the rapist murderer ding dong ditcher he lets me go. Another block down, and a second cop stops me. A similar interaction occurs. This cop lets me go, another block down, one block from my house, and yet a third cop stops me. He yells at me to halt, asks what am I doing, who was I with...what's in the bag. Dude? What's it smell like? And hey-see that walkie talkie strapped to your belt? How about you use it to check in with the line of gun wielding cops I just walked passed to see if they might have already spoken to me. Portland police, you truly deserve the absolute shit bag reputation that you have. Whatever this guy did that got you out in my area in the first place, I hope sticking fresh pinched turds in your tail pipes was at least one of the charges.
I'm dying to know what your deal is, but since you're obviously some kind of crazy, I only dare to speculate.
Five days a week I see you on the way to work. You appear to be a fairly normal dude; well dressed, briefcase in hand (implying that you hold a job), and passably attractive. Upon closer inspection, though, your behavior is consistently bizarre.
Every day you pace up and down the bus, occasionally stopping in one place or another to stand there swaying or dancing to your music. Sometimes you sit down and read a book for a minute or two before you get up, remove a layer (suit jacket or button down shirt, depending on the season) and do some stretches. Then you repeat the whole ritual over.
So tell me, what's going on? Are you crazy, or are you in on some sort of amazing secret that I'm just not hip to?
|Most Popular||I, Anonymous||Best of the Merc|
Get the best of the Mercury each week in your inbox!