You could put this on their Yelp page.
Or write it in your diary.

You know, whatever.

January is when you have to deal with all the shitty/new second string bartenders, largely do to quite a few of the old ones getting canned on New Years for serving people that were way over their limit. But then again, this sounds like pretty normal behavior for a dive bar, regardless.

You're a fat chick from California and you've come to Portland to grow your arm pit hair and cover up your rolls with wool for 9 months a year! tahdah

These letters are pointless without the name of the bar. And by pointless I mean fake.

It's spelled "perpoleaxed."

“...hot little piece of jailbait..."

Well, like my Pappy always used to say: "If there's grass, play ball."

(JUST KIDDING, PEOPLE -- JESUS -- RELAX.)

I guess a drill gun makes a better immersion blender than an old battery-powered vibrator does.

Oh, so you HAVE met Portland's finest bartender.

Based on the bad beer and terrible service, I'm guessing this is Tugboat.