• In a thinly veiled admission of defeat and failure, Mercury Editor-in-Chief Wm. Steven Humphrey begged to be put out of his misery. (What are you waiting for, cretins? Cut off the head, and the body will follow.)

• Once again demonstrating her ability to annoy the living shit out of anyone, regardless of their idiot beliefs, Sarah Mirk invited herself to a pro-life conference. In related news: Ms. Mirk, along with the entire staff of the Mercury, is an excellent advertisement for Planned Parenthood's services.

• Like a prim schoolmarm, Ezra "Ace" Caraeff scolded the Trail Blazers' Brandon Roy for being "passive aggressive." At the Mercury, pouty whimpering is apparently considered "sports coverage."

• Marjorie Skinner lazily copied and pasted something having to do with dreadlocks. For a number of obvious reasons, I did not read this post.

• Finally shutting the fuck up about Portland's irrelevant political scene, Denis C. Theriault decided to waste everyone's time in a different manner—this week, he fawned over a missing puppy. (Confidential to Mr. Theriault: Everyone knows you stole it, ass. Abducting an animal and forcing it to spend time with you is the closest one such as yourself will ever get to experiencing love.)

• Erik Henriksen spent an entire day drawing tears on the faces of celebrities. His continued employment in this economic climate is an insult to everyone.

• Alison Hallett got her panties in a bunch about the Mercury's lack of coverage of comediennes at the Bridgetown Heckling Festival. Alas, L'il Ms. Bra-Burner failed to note one important fact: Nothing with a vagina has ever intentionally made a joke worth laughing at.

• Speaking of unfunny broads: Courtney Ferguson.

• After Ned Lannamann utilized all of his journalistic acumen to accuse Wayne Brady of shitting himself, professional tweester Colin Meloy twatted about it.


I... but... you... but—no. WHAT?!

I hereby take back everything I said about the Mercury's shitbrained employees this week, and redirect my fury and vitriol at a new, and even more deserving, target. ATTN. MR. MELOY: You, sir, are a fucking imbecile.