No, I did not attend the Mercury's fruity little "Blogtown meetup." Unlike you shitstains, I have better things to do than spend time with (A) the imbeciles who "write" the Mercury, or (B) the imbeciles who "read" the Mercury. It's fantastic you cretins had a delightful time, though. Let's see if this "Atomic" nitwit is still grinning two weeks from now, when his beloved sailors have returned to the high seas and his urethra feels as if it's full of wasabi and razor blades.

• Reveling in his irrelevance, Ezra "Ace" Caraeff wrote about Emily's Army, some band that features some kid whose father is in some other band. Truly fascinating stuff, Mr. Caraeff.

• Alison Hallett obnoxiously trilled about a new cafe—noting, for no discernible reason, that she enjoys reading fantasy-romance novels while sitting on their couch! So now you know what cafe to avoid.

• Writing a whopping 13 words of original content—as well as tirelessly copying and pasting an entire sentence from Wikipedia—Wm. Steven Humphrey educated Blogtown readers about Funyuns. By all means, Mr. Humphrey, don't overexert yourself.

• Finally hitting paydirt after months of fruitlessly Googling "teenage boys + Portland politics," Denis C. Theriault came upon 19-year-old mayoral candidate Max Brumm. ATTN. YOUNG MR. BRUMM: DO NOT TO RESPOND TO MR. THERIAULT'S EMAILS.

• Sarah Mirk offered her drooling, lazy-eyed readers two flavors of bland this week: A lobbying expenditures pie chart and a synopsis of the latest episode of Portlandia. Ms. Mirk, your blog posts make me wish I was Amish.

• Marjorie Skinner blathered about either the bubonic plague or cats. As is frequently the case with Ms. Skinner's dribblings, I chose to expend neither the effort nor the time it would have required to decipher whatever the fuck it was she was nattering on about.

• In an online activity somehow even more pathetic than Mr. Theriault's, Erik Henriksen apparently watches Blossom at 4 am on Tuesday mornings. He deserves to die alone.

• At long last, Courtney Ferguson has decided to start contributing to Blogtown! Alas, she's chosen to write about roller derby—a "women's sport" that hasn't been sexy since 1981. Ms. Ferguson, I urge you to instead report on (and perhaps participate in?) Portland's burgeoning "foxy boxing" scene. Matches are held every Wednesday night in my basement.

I will return next week, and not one moment before. I urge you to do the same.