As soon as I saw the dreaded color of the cult like gym started construction in my neighborhood, I knew my rent was going to go up. But anyway. I have to walk by the windows and every. fucking. time. I do if I even slightly hesitate, look for my wallet, walk by with my dog...You beep your fucking cars at me. It is so obnoxious, and startling. Oh no, your yuppie gym is in a "bad: neighborhood! somebody might mess with your car in broad daylight in front of the storefront window in your direct line of sight! Calm down. You choose to come here, I'm obviously not homeless or acting crazy. It's so fucking rude, knock it the fuck off.

Jean shorts.

Anonymous, I'm reaching out because I'm increasingly concerned about someone we both know. It seems they may be involved in a highly controlling group or manipulative community. It's important for us to offer support and understanding during this challenging situation. Discovering one is in a highly controlling group or manipulative community can be traumatic. Signs include excessive control, isolation from loved ones, manipulative tactics, claims of absolute authority, financial exploitation, limited exposure to alternative viewpoints, and emotional manipulation leading to fear or guilt. Approach the individual with care and empathy, assuring them they are not alone. Validate their experiences and offer resources like books, articles, or support groups to help them understand the dynamics at play. Respecting their autonomy is crucial. Encourage professional help, such as counseling, to provide support and guidance in navigating their path to healing and autonomy. Maintain open communication without pressure. Our patience, empathy, and unwavering friendship will make a significant difference. Together, we can create a safe space where this person feels supported and empowered to break free. Our care matters. With heartfelt concern and solidarity, Anonymous

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I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and yeah I get it. Sexy Beast. It just always reminds me of the people that don't get to have this , Especially today, as I am above and beyond. Sexy. Sometimes you just have to stare that beast down and eat it up and walk out the door and say , here I come, people. Not all of you can have me , just know I love you anyways , maybe tomorrow, here we go . grrrrrreow!

In the perilous realm of modern media, the erosion of journalistic objectivity threatens the very essence of our profession. As PR agencies, celebrity connections, and personal biases wield their corrupting influence, truth and impartiality hang in the balance. PR agencies, once lurking in the shadows, now pervade journalism, subverting the pursuit of truth. Journalists, entangled in self-interest, sacrifice integrity for agenda-driven narratives. The duty to empower the public fades as alliances and favorable coverage take precedence. Celebrities, revered as deities, exert insidious power, blunting impartiality. Fearful of damaging connections, the media averts its gaze, enabling antidemocratic behaviors to thrive. Yet, the gravest threat lies within. Personal biases silently shape our stories, clouding judgments. Echo chambers reinforce these biases, eroding our commitment to impartiality. But we must not succumb. Responsibility lies with each journalist. Rise above PR favors, celebrity glamour, and personal bias. History's watchful gaze is upon us, recording every action or inaction. Reclaim objectivity! Embrace truth, fairness, and accountability. Confront biases, seek diverse perspectives, and challenge power fearlessly. Let us honor journalism's legacy, safeguard democracy, and uphold the public's right to unbiased information. Though the path is treacherous, we have an opportunity to redefine journalism's purpose. Will we be remembered as guardians of truth or mere mouthpieces for the powerful? The choice is ours, and history awaits its judgment.

In the realm of life's peculiar encounters, these past few days have taken the cake. It seems as though the universe has conspired to test my sanity and push the boundaries of what can be deemed "normal." I find solace in sharing this tale, hoping that someone out there can validate my bewildering experiences. First, it started with a string of bizarre coincidences. Everywhere I turned, I encountered the same peculiar face—the bearded man with mismatched socks and a penchant for playing the accordion. Was he following me? Or was he an eccentric doppelgänger haunting my footsteps? I may never know. Then, the everyday objects in my life began to rebel against me. My alarm clock decided to play tricks, waking me up an hour early one day and refusing to sound the alarm the next. My coffee maker, once faithful, brewed a murky concoction that tasted suspiciously like brine. Even my trusty umbrella chose the most inconvenient times to spontaneously invert, leaving me drenched in the rain. And the conversations... oh, the conversations. I've found myself engaged in nonsensical dialogues with strangers who spoke in riddles and metaphors, leaving me questioning my own grasp of reality. Is it me, or has the world suddenly become a surrealistic stage for bizarre interactions? I confess, I'm no stranger to the peculiar, but these days have tested the limits of my tolerance. Is there a hidden camera crew documenting my descent into absurdity? Or have I unwittingly stumbled into an alternate dimension, where the laws of logic no longer apply? If there's anyone out there who can relate to these very odd days, please, let me know I'm not alone. Together, we can navigate the strangeness and seek solace in the fact that reality is sometimes stranger than fiction.

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Hey Jackass! Pay attention! Your complete obliviousness is getting hard for us to watch. That woman has moved the world for you on multiple occasions and your are too selfish and self-involved to recognize the value of pay her some basic courtesy and due respect even in the context of your own self-interest, let alone the true value of such a goddess to us all. We really shouldn't have to spell it out for you but despite the persona you've constructed around yourself, you aren't all that great. Settle yourself down and do some real work for both her sake and your own, among many others. If nothing else, take a moment to seriously rerecognize how much smarter than you she has always been and what that would mean about which way the scales would ultimately tip should she elect to exercise the suite of options available to her, and we aren't talking about splitting anything down the middle. Now come on and get your act together, get your game on, seriously, we are really rooting for you to come through but make no mistake at the end of the day, we are with her.

What a very strange situation to come across. I've never seen anyone so excited to get a flat tire just so they could release their enthusiasm to use their instant fix-a-flat device they got for thanks giving. What a complete nerd! Thanks for showing us how to make the best of a bad day while bringing some joy and cheer to shitty situations. I hope getting a new tire on by the mechanic is as fun for you as getting the flat was. Happy Trails!

Jesus fucking Christ ! We are more Jesusy(et al) than Texas and Florida combined! If you look at our tolerance and acceptance of all our brothers and sisters. Texas will banish you from the tribe. That's what hurts and is very unJesusy, imo.

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You were tall and handsome, but what I really noticed as you walked toward me was your coat. You were wearing a powdery pastel lilac canvas jacket. It was so beautiful. You looked so good in it. It fit you perfectly. I simply had to say something. “I love your coat! It’s such a perfect color.” Your response floored me. You gave a gentle grin and uttered seven words that stopped me in my tracks: “Do you want to try it on?” You are a robust man who is probably at least 6’4”. I am a humble transmasc who clocks in at 145 lbs and only recently started filling out a T-shirt. There is absolutely no way your jacket would fit me. But I did 100% say yes. You handed over your gorgeous treasure of a garment with ease and trust. Its weight felt perfect hanging off my shoulders. We bantered a little and parted ways, but not before we repeated each other’s names and smiled. “I think I just found my new boyfriend,” I whispered to my friend. I was mostly joking, but something about that interaction warmed a cold and distant part of my heart. Thank you for meeting a stranger with openness and joy. If you are out there and you are reading this, you seem like the type of person I would like to know. Let’s eat some french fries and watch the sunset. I’ll wear your coat.

I have a copy of the first print issue of the Mercury. I was 16 and at a cafe in farking Lake Oswego and there it was. And there was Portland! Where weird kids like me could go find music and thrift stores and places where other square pegs were thriving. Thank you for the doubtless insane amount of work it's taken to get a print issue out again. I cried when you guys stopped and essentially subscribed to the Mercury by making a monthly $10 donation, which I really hope more people will do. It's an important alternative to the increasingly right-wing Oregonian (why do you hate public school so much?) and the milquetoast Willie Week. And Jesus, the musicians and authors need the love your paper provides, they're making no royalty money cuz "moving fast and breaking things" (more punk coverage please!). The point is: I love Portland, and I FUCKING LOVE THE PORTLAND MERCURY, print edition 2.0. Yay yay yay.

[Thanks so much for the kinds words! ❤️ We're psyched for our return to print—even if it's just quarterly for right now. That said, things are looking up, up, UP for Portland and ourselves, so who knows what the future holds? Much love to you and all our readers (and haters too)! Yer pal, Wm. Steven Humphrey]

Oh, I guess back to the job drawing board. But I cannot continue to work for someone who is not an inspirational leader that I do not respect and admire. I cannot be on a team with a coach with no direction or communication. I cannot act with a director with no personality. I cannot play in a blues band when someone wants to make classical music. All metaphors but you dig? I still don't know if I feel better being free because, ah, money, where's it gonna come from? But I do know for sure, my mental health and contentment going to work 8 hrs a day for how ever many years is fairly important compared to like being in an unhappy marriage. Oh, what to do? Show me the way. Give me a sign. Perhaps I already knew the answer long ago and just don't have the faith to act upon. But I sorta did. I haven't quit. I haven't been fired either. I haven't gone to work in 2 days. I know I have faults. This could be wrong and unprofessional, and it is not in response to how I've been treated unfairly and unprofessional, but I cannot be managed by someone who cannot manage themselves. I need to be amongst artist, crafters, innovators, creators, and progressive thinkers. Not people that just want a paycheck to get by. I think that is my answer.

That's what I always say. That's what I am. There is a difference. I am for sure superstitious. I always love coincidences of the cosmos. When I need 21 more bubble wrap sheets that I prepped randomly in order to wrap an item, and have exactly the amount of bubble wrap i need to wrap the remaining items. Stuff like that. Or if I'm going through some mental hardships and need some guidance, someone will post a message, not intended for me in anyway, but it hits me right at the opportune time to show me uplifting support as if they should've written it just for me. Timing is everything. Then the spiders that just appear out of nowhere. On the shower wall. Catch and release. Another one on the cabinet while I'm washing dishes which is already a contemplative activity to begin with. But when I go to catch it, it runs away and pretty much vanishes into what? Like some black hole? They never get away from me! What does it mean? What do I do? Where do I go? "When in doubt, give up." "When in doubt, toss it out."

I think it's absolutely hilarious the way you're frantically cracking open peanut shells, debris exploding out of your general eating area, while you shove peanuts in your mouth. Are all those demolished shells going to fit into that little tiny cup your putting them in? I don't knooow-oh, It's getting preeeetty full! What a hilarious mess you've created. Thanks for entertaining me while I sit and let my food digest. I hope you have a pleasant evening.

I seen some fashion statements that I just don't get. I made some fashion statements where I dont care. I guess thats why I'm not a fashionista and someone once told me I make fashion faux pas. I'm sure there's many many more I've not seen that I dont get but again, I'm just not into fashion. The pants hanging off ass. Everyone knows this one. Come on, wearers of this costume, is this comfortable or practical in anyway? I guess maybe to get nude or go potty, it just might be. The comb in the hair. I guess, you can always have your comb with your keys, wallet, and phone. Which the last 3 were what I'd never leave the house without. Then the mask came along, and now I always have THC and CBD tincture too. The sticker labels left on the hat. I guess labels get left on more than hats anyway. Here's the new one I saw but it could be perfectly old. Again, I do not follow Vogue, or Playboy, or Penthouse, or Cosmopolitan, or Vanity Fair, or Newsweek. The one where both sleeves have been cut from the body of the shirt but safety pinned back in place with a 1/4 gap in between. This statement would be a Godsend at weddings or the office though. I wonder how many outfits of this style one person could own. Then you could get really wild and creative by safety pinning up different colors and patterns together. Oh, I really like this one. I'm gonna ask a quilter to quilt all my shirts from now on.