Hi, everybody! To celebrate my one-year anniversary of writing One Day at a Time, I've chosen a sampling of my best (read: grotesque, disturbing) work. Love! Ann

MONDAY, JUNE 15, 2000
Today was another banner day for the Portland Mercury, as two of our editorial staff were arrested and thrown in jail--and get this, on different charges! Though we are unable to release their names, or the specific details of their crimes, we can tell you that it did not directly involve drugs or prostitution. We can also say that one was charged with shoplifting and the other with criminal trespassing. The latter defendant was working undercover for the Mercury, and as for our shoplifter, he wasn't working on a story--he just likes to shoplift. Both employees were released from the pokey, and are now back at their desks resting comfortably.

Today in Portland, a wide variety of Americans celebrated our nation's greatest day by getting drunk and blowing shit up. On the Broadway Bridge, many fine Americans gathered to watch the fireworks show over Waterfront Park, as well as viewing a single person's fireworks show on the Broadway Bridge. Sponsored by "Drunk Guy with a Mullet," the Broadway Bridge fireworks show featured an exciting array of firecrackers, bottle rockets, roman candles, and lady fingers. However, while most people shoot off fireworks to draw attention to themselves, "Drunk Guy with a Mullet" was unexpectedly shy--even horrified by the attention. "Whatwhat are you people looking at??" he yelled at the onlookers. "Stop staring! Stop staring at me!" he screamed, stumbling away from the mob of prying eyes trained on him. However, "Drunk Guy with a Mullet" was to face even more humiliation after he slipped and tumbled into a dense patch of shrubbery. Unable to express his embarrassing grief, "Drunk Guy with a Mullet" arose from the bushes, and regaled the crowd with one final epithet before returning to a life of cherished anonymity: "My ass hurts!" Happy Fourth of July, "Drunk Guy with a Mullet." Happy Fourth of July.

Police Chief Kroeker's new rule banning long hair on officers hasn't been sitting well with the rank and file, especially with Officer Dave Barrios, who argues his long hair is part of his Native American heritage. Unfortunately for Barrios, Chief Kroeker came up with a hilarious compromise: Barrios could keep his long hair--as long as he wears it in a BUN. Today was Barrios' first day on the job with the bun, and after being relentlessly teased by other officers, Barrios isn't happy. "For now, my hair is up in a bun," he said. "But this isn't over until I get to wear it the way I want." While One Day empathizes with Officer Barrios' plight, we think he should give the bun a chance. There are many products that can make the most of his new bun, such as Topsy-Tail™, Hairdini™, and an invention that seems tailor-made for Barrios' predicament--the Whirl-a-Bun™.

[Editor's note: For a strangely threatening response to this item, see our "Best of the Letters" section on page 11.]

Today in 44 B.C., Roman emperor Julius Caesar ignored the warnings of astrologer Spurinna, to "beware the Ides of March." As it turned out, Caesar should've been more attentive, for on March 15 of that year, he was promptly assassinated. Today, roughly 2045 years later, a Portland man ignored similar warnings by purchasing tires from Les Schwab and accepting free meat. Craig Knott, of SE Portland, says he's always been attracted by the Les Schwab promise of giving away free meat with every tire purchase, and when his own tires began to show signs of wear, his tire company choice was made simple. "I needed new tires, and I like meat," Craig said. However, friends and coworkers were dubious about Craig's choice to accept frozen meat from a tire dealer, and warned him repeatedly against it. Ignoring their pleas, Craig purchased four Firestone radials at the Les Schwab Tire Center located at 122nd and Sandy Boulevard. In exchange he was presented with two summer sausages. After eating the sausage, he watched an episode of Survivor on television, caught up on a few e-mails, and sat in a chair reading a book. At midnight, it was obvious Craig had suffered no ill effects from eating the Les Schwab sausage, other than a mild case of indigestion. Did this mean it's no longer necessary to fear the prophet's warning to "beware the Ides of March"? "Umm, sure, I guess so." Craig said with a shrug. "What's the Ides of March?"

Today, a female student in Hyannis, MA, bit into her cafeteria sandwich and spit out a piece of a thumb, complete with thumbnail. (And we thought we experienced humiliation in high school.) Officials determined the thumb belonged to a cafeteria worker, who had severed it in a slicer accident earlier that week. According to a cafeteria supervisor, the slicing machine had been sanitized and all nearby food had been thrown out, though slicer topspin could have propelled the thumb almost anywhere. "Obviously this is completely unacceptable," said a spokesperson for the cafeteria worker. Uh, y'think?

Today, One Day's husband (Kip) and I decided to spice up our marriage, by engaging in coitus at the Rose Festival Shooting Matches. Though we generally like to engage in coitus during the Grand Floral Parade behind the main grandstand, we felt the floats drew our attention away from the task at hand. Thankfully, we found the Shooting Matches more to our liking. Sponsored by the Estacada Rod & Gun Club in Eagle Creek, this competition features target shooting with high-powered rifles, as well as conventional pistols. It also features concealing shrubbery within 50 yards of the targets, adding an extra level of excitement to our coitus.

Though one might expect the never-ending barrage of gunshots to be interruptive to the process of coitus, this was hardly the case. In fact, the gunfire heightened our coital fervor, and, as Beaverton native John Collins fired his winning shot into the bullseye of his target, so did Kip; my yelps of post-coital ecstasy being successfully muffled by the cheering throng.

We love engaging in coitus at the Rose Festival. Maybe next year we'll try the Midget Auto Races!

SUNDAY, JULY 23, 2000
One Day
had a very unpleasant little episode with a not-so-nice young gentleman today. While jogging, the ne'er-do-well approached us from behind and tried to yank down our trousers! Now, let this be a lesson to all you proper young ladies out there: The correct method of combating this unfortunate situation, as we so gracefully demonstrated, is to turn around and begin kicking the young man HARD in the shins while yelling as loud as possible, "DO YOU WANT TO TAKE IT UP THE ASS?" at least four times. As soon as these magic words escaped our dainty lips, said young man muttered the word, "Sorry," shriveled, and ran away. So what do you say, boys? Wanna take on One Day? Better bring a body bag.