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Re: “Say Hello to Mr. Balloons!”
He must be given a weekly column...immediately
Re: “David Cross Comes to Portland”
...such...layered sarcasm...can't...divine actual opinions...EERRGHH!! (head turns inside out)
Re: “Church Computer Literacy With Mrs. Bobby”
Kenneth the Page?
Re: “Win Tickets to the Hold Steady!!!”
After participating in a heated three hour drinking contest (which I won 22 shots to 18, thank you very much) I set of from my opponent's St. John's area home to walk back to my own domicile and relish my victory/yell at my roommates and pass out.
I set out on the half mile walk to my house and perhaps it was the torrential rain, the liver full of HRD or maybe just my perpetually ass-fucked internal compass but by the time I stopped walking and managed to focus my eyes on a road sign I was somewhere on SE 19th and Morrisson. And water logged to almost twice my weight. And mysteriously lacking my wallet and cell phone.
Somewhat taken aback by this realization I wandered in the direction of some enticing neon lights which turned out to be a bar and struck up a slurred conversation with a heavyset man outside of the watering hole (I was refused entry after proving unable to properly operate the doorknob) who gave me two cigarrettes and a detailed account of the guns he had stored in his basement in preparation for the inevitable collapse of society. I somehow managed to communicate to him my desire to call a cab and my newfound friend quickly informed me that there was no such need. He would give me a ride as soon as he downed another and cleaned some "sloppy gunk" out of his truck. I bolted soon after he re-entered the bar.
Not having paid much attention to which direction I'd bolted in I soon found myself in an unrecognizable section of town of whose poor street lighting was making walking increasingly difficult. Fortunately though, I happened upon an inviting Lutheran Church which I entered with the intention of resting in for a second to dry off and get my barrings.
I awoke the next morning curled up on a church pew with an ancient blue haired woman informing me that she'd just called the police who were on their way to arrest me for tresspassing. I thanked her for the information and made an somewhat hurried exit, evading both my octagenarian companion and the hands of local law enforcement as I saught out a bus and high-tailed it back to Northeast from what turned out to be a neighborhood slightly south of Woodstock.
Massive nights, y'al. Massive nights.
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