Hey, Portland. It's me. I was there last week. Nice city. But not so nice that you can be such a bitch to me. I know, I'm a walking cliché in my backward sports team hat and my G-Unit T-shirt. I know because of the condescending looks you give me when I shop at your overpriced stores. I don't mean to be violent, but the next person to laugh at my shaved face and baggy jeans is getting sent to the dentist. I hope you have good health insurance, Portland. Because you're gonna fucking need it if you keep up the 'tude. Like your emo-geek chic is any better than my wanna-be gangster outfit. You unoriginal bastards. How about washing your beards for once? When your face has more bodagets than my asshole, it's time. And yeah, I'm so glad you're gay. Good for you. I'm straight. I didn't ask to be born this way. When you shame me for it, it doesn't make me feel good. So glad you're green, too. That is great, but you don't get to say shit to me when I throw my pop can away until you clean up the toilet bowl of a river you got. And keep smoking, you fuckin' hypocritical schmucks. You trendy, uppity, eco-fuckers. You pretentious, goober, high-priced coffee- and condo-lovin' dickholes. Fuck you. See ya next weekend.—Anonymous
A Nice Place to Visit
The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.