I, Anonymous Blog

The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.





This morning, a man felating another man downtown near the train station. A homeless man on the burnside bridge popping a squat and forcibly trying to take a deuce but not succeeding. A drunk driver in the car next to me at 7 am. A phone call at work, one the first, exclaiming that I should have been at work when they tried calling earlier in the morning. We open at 9, they do too but are on the East Coast, multiple time zones are hard to comprehend. The Ups guy who parked in the handicap spot to make 4 floors of deliveries. My coworker who openly talks about smoking recreational weed. My boss who is too afraid to say anything about it because he's afraid of losing his job like the last boss. The guy whom I know nothing about who eats two slices cheese pizza and has a diet rockstar literally every-day-Monday-through-Friday. Why I insisted on using dashes to emphasize that when likely you won't hear it like I heard it in my head. Why I bother posting this. Why on my way home this afternoon, I'm just going to be thinking about if this weekend I'll be lucky with the wife or if I'm just kidding myself, only to resolve in stopping and buying ice cream as a weekend treat. Why tonight, I'll probably come back and see if anyone said anything in response to this. Why I actually care? And finally, how this weekend is going to pass so quickly, and by 10 am Monday and a few angry emails, I'll wonder why I spent my Friday afternoon on I,Anonymous, craigslist, and musicians friend drooling over a new guitar that I'm horrible at playing instead of doing the project that's due by 10 am Monday.

Passive Aggressive

I get it; you don't like me. I don't like you either. Fine. Get over it. You are a grown man who feels to need to shout passive aggressive comments at me like somehow you are affecting me in a negative way. Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up!! I don' want to hear it. If you have something to say, say it to my face.

And while we are on the subject of how much I don't like you, let me tell you why. You are a creep. You make my skin crawl. I feel uncomfortable around you. You also have no social skills, poor grammar, lack of intuition, multiple failed businesses, you disrespect women, and you walk around like the dick between your legs is the biggest thing and all women want you. That is why I don't like you.

So keep saying snarky shit. Keep it up. It won't be too long before I sue you for sexual harassment and make sure that this job, that you have only had for a year (but you think you know everything!), is the last job you hold in the Portland metro area.

Thank You For Turning Me Down

Your maiden name rhymed with the actor who played Fonzi. You have a late sister named Debra. I’m very sorry. She and I were in the same class at Llewellyn and CHS, and I only recently saw her obit. But this is about you.

You were the beautiful one. Cheerleader. Rose Festival candidate. A year behind me and Debbie. Liked by everyone and coveted by all the guys, and therefore, of course, well out reach for the nerds and geeks like me. And therein is the tale-and the thanks.

A couple years after high school I ran into you at the PSU candy counter. Hi, how are you , Hi, fine. You didn’t really remember me. But you were as sweet and stunning as ever. That evening, I wondered, what would she say if I called? Would I have the courage to ask out the prettiest girl in school?
Your family name was in what used to be called the “White Pages.” So I called and asked for a date. Of course you said no. It wasn’t like in the movies, where the beauty and the goofball get together and live happily ever after. But from that phone call and forever after, I was never scared to call a woman. If I was ever nervous, I would tell myself ‘You called Donna. This call is easier.”
Sure, I got brushed off lots of times, but I also got some dates, including the one with the woman I’ve been married to for 30 years. So I hope you are well, and thank you for being the girl to build me up by turning me down.

Just Screw It

Lately I've been looking at people and wondering what sex would be like with them. Most of it, I don't want to picture.
It's true, I don't give people enough credit, or the benefit of the doubt. They've earned it. I have no faith or expectations.
What the hell is up with impatient person driving that cannot wait for people to cross the parking lot?
You do stupid things. Everyone does. Everyone thinks they are smarter than someone else. Add that up. Put you and everyone else in cars. Put you, everyone else in cars on the street and in traffic. That's what you get.
Can't wait for coffee shops to ask people to bring own cups. And while we're at it, restaurants to require people to bring their own utensils and plates. it's gonna happen.
My name is Tim. "What was your name again?" Tim, I'm confirming my reservation for these days. "What day was that?" We're finally talking the same lingo, so I say what day was that? When? Hi, this is Tim.
It's no wonder you don't like texts. You can't read or comprehend shit because of what you reply.
Among homeless and street junkies, there's freeloaders. A lot! of freeloaders! No, you're not a freespirit, and I don't like you.
2 kids dealing weed, looking around, waiting for me to walk by. Oh, the hilarity to be young and think you're doing something kick ass cool, and we don't know what you're doing.

I'm Watching You

I been noticing security at alot of grocery stores these days. Awesome! But what's with the constant staring and profiling. I know. I know. That's what a security does. But they should teach you guys how to smile or say hello, or say have a nice day. All it does is make me uncomfortable. I feel like I'm doing something wrong and about to steal something just by the way you looking at me. It does not make me feel safe or more secure. If stealing is such an issue, just stand at the entrance and corroborate each receipt. I mean I walked right out of that store with loaf of bread and bottle of wine in hand. You don't know if I paid for that shit! I probably don't "look" like I'm a thief. Then why the hell you watching every where I go? How do you know who's gonna steal by the way someone looks anyway?! I could come in here, raggedy, boozed up, unshaven, and will you think I'm more a thief than suit and tie guy?

Missed Connection

Thought I would give the gym another try, but now I am reminded of why I didn't want to work out there anymore. You. You sat on the one machine I wanted to use, but not using it. More just sitting at it while on your phone. I worked out patiently behind you waiting to get the next seat. 15 min passed of you staring at your phone. Ahh! Some people want to work out, not post their missed connection at the 24 hour fitness on Craigslist! Your a turd and I hope u missed your connection.


Dear City That Works.

Can you please do something with dead goose that is rotting in the gutter on Naito and Stark? It's been like five days.

Thank you.

Thanks For Stealing My Bicycle!!

Well, I hope you feel proud of yourself, asshole. I am a U.S. Navy Veteran, which is likely something you cannot comprehend. Furthermore, I am a senior citizen, 66 years old. I purchased that Specialized Bicycle used, as per my doctor's suggestion for exercise, as I had recent heart surgery. You know the one. Stolen from inside Mall 205, by Target. This has been reported to the Portland Police, as well as several websites. If I were you, I'd return it to Bike Gallery, in Sellwood-Moreland, as the eyes are on your mangy ass. Are you not aware, you uneducated dirtbag, that cameras are everywhere, these days. Likely you have ripped the necklace off your dying mother to hawk, you piece of trash. A group of fellow veterans are searching for you. If they find you, it will not be pretty. If someone purchased it, they can be prosecuted for receiving stolen merchandise. If I were you, I'd fix this ASAP.

Tinder Date from Hell!

You seemed nice enough when you messaged me through tinder, and although you didn't have a clear face pic I thought I'd take my chances. You invited me to an art gallery shin dig that you organized which in of itself was pretty cool: dj, free beer, good art, huge turnout. When I found you there, you were sitting with a group of people and your beautiful husky dog. I asked how you knew these people and you said "oh, this is a tinder group." I thought that was kinda of strange because there was never any mention of this, but it quickly dawned on me that there was another guy there who was clearly only there to see you, instantly granting me third wheel status. We couldn't talk anywhere in the gallery because the music was really loud, so we stepped outside, only to find your other date smoking a spliff. We proceeded to make awkward three way small talk, and all the while all I could think was "fuck, I need to get out of here!" So after listening to your self-absorbed life stories for as long as I could, I bounced. And boy was I happy to leave! Maybe if you just once acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation, or apologized for putting me in such a weird scenario, maybe I would've been interested in you, but you didn't. You are obviously socially retarded, and I didn't appreciate nor consent to being a part of your social experiment. If you wanna live your life like an episode of the Bachelorette, maybe you should warn the people you are going to pit against each other. All that being said, you aren't worth fighting for. Good luck, "white chocolate."

It's About Heavy Metal

...and I'm not talking about you're favorite hipster pretending to be the second guitarist for Mayden.

I'm talking about our foundries, our mills. I'm talking iron, steel, aluminum. The vast majority of imported Ferrous-alloys (the "cookie" ingredients so to speak) come from China, Russia, Brazil, South Korea and Korean peninsula at large, and South Africa. Think back to the year/s of bullheaded campaigning promising to revive American Steel. Light bulbs yet?I'm not against military aggression for the sake of controlling a few out of line "dictators." Honestly, I don't know enough about them to say where I land either which way. I know this though, I work in supply chain and importing of these goods. It's been increasingly difficult to get these goods into the states. Here's the problem, we have no self reliance. We don't have large deposits of silicon alloy like China. We don't have insane stockpiles of Ferrochromium like Albania and Turkey. We do have Molybdenum to compete with Germany, Sweden, and SA, but it's in Alaska and everyone is against the pebble mine so there's that. Bring it closer to home, the majority of pouring taking place in the Pacific Northwest is self-spawning (a term that gets thrown around loosely in the industry). That is, most of the casting is for the wearable parts being used in mining and extraction domestically. So to paint the picture: we're going after the bad guys, who control the ingredients for American Metal, and locally, we're using these ingredients to cast parts for domestic mining which we're limiting anyways. Doesn't add up.


Dear City of Portland,
Where the fuck are all the trash cans?! With the incline of tourists and an assload of food carts, you'd think there would be a plethora of receptacles for their greasy, gentrified wasted food to find shelter in. Instead, we get In-your-face rotting Oblisks of discarded waste overflowing the smallest of cans that have eventually been located. We want a clean city and you have replaced the eco-friendly, easily-located bins with Nike bike stations. Get your shit together! Oh wait, you're more interested in insanely-expensive apartment complexes for fuckheads who saw Portlandia once. Pull your fat heads out of each other's assholes and see there's plenty to do around here.

Economic Bomb

That bomb we just dropped cost $16M (only hardware). Killed 36 terrorists, which pencils out to ~$444K each. Setting aside politics/ethics/etc. for a minute, that just doesn't make economic sense. How is this sustainable?

Go F Meeself?

C'mon. Is that all yee got? That's about the same as someone giving me the middle twat tickler. It doesn't hurt. At all. Not one bit. It makes you feel like you're the superman though. Like you can kick some ass, hoss. Puff up yer chest. Sorry I didn't get yer joke about something being built by my grandpa. I said what does he have to do with anything. I said I'm sure it was built by someone's grandpa. So yee said, it was a joke trying to be funny. Me said I guess I didn't get it. I didn't find the humor. Then, yes, oooooeeee, out came, "go fuck yourself." To think you could be someone's grandpa yerself. At least a husband, dad, or brother, likely. Do they know this "Go fuck yourself" about you? Be proud, Mr. I'm gonna kick some ass. Be proud. You showed me. Say something cleverly stupid funny, and I will do the same. But if you can't take it, don't cry like a titsucker.

Man Who Did Something

This is not a rant or anything that I care to keep anonymous. I wanted to thank a gentleman who stepped in when I was getting verbally harassed downtown by a random stranger this morning. Thank you for stepping in, being present and walking me away from the situation. Thank you for also not judging when I started bawling. I didn't ask for your name and barely remember what we talked about but I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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