I, Anonymous Blog

The views expressed in these submissions are from anonymous, unverified sources and do not necessarily represent those of the Portland Mercury.


I think you should just accept it. You'll never be like one of them. You're aiming too high. You'll always be small and unsightly. Leave the world to the big loud people with money and friends. Stop trying to be something you're not.
Bury yourself in work. It doesn't matter what kind. Don't worry about getting ahead. Just get by for a while.
Find yourself a trailer or a shed somewhere. Get a library card and a netflix account. Leave your old friends alone. You don't want to get whatever you have one them. Just get further and further away until you stop thinking about them completely. It's not like any of them are out there looking for you. None of them expressed any concern or disappointment when you left.
Move on. They did.

Paging Mr. Tore...

Following his recent blitzkrieg through Europe — aka "Treason Week" — Trump decided to retreat to his dicks w/ sticks club in NJ to hide out. So, I called up there and asked them to page a member: Trey Tore. The receptionist said she'd relay the message.

Childish? Maybe. Do I feel better? Absolutely. And look forward to seeing that fat bastard dragged across the White House lawn in handcuffs. Tick Tock.


Very tired today. New phone. New shoes. New backpack. God damn new to me car still won't work. Behind on paperwork. Neck hurts. Extra depressed about the things and stuff.
I'll be one of the few that gets through it. I could have done more. Someday I'll learn to live in a positive helpful way, but in the meantime the isolation hurts.
I think about freaky friday scenarios gone wrong. I switch bodies with my best friend. She's stuck with the kids. Husband's out a lot. It gets old, but he's fun and a good listener. I'd look dumb trying to adjust.
Too long in my body and she'll come back to me, "I can't get a job or an apartment and I'm afraid to say my name out loud." I tell her - if they don't let you in the front door, just go through the side. Keep trying.
It's upsetting to say and worse to hear.
In a few versions of the story she dies in my body. Awful. Could be worse. It could always be worse.
I fly my spaceship alone.

Stop Clacking Your Fan

Dear fan-clacking homosexual, whichever dance floor you may haunt: I know your dance game isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but your loud accessories (in particular, your fan) are an affront to a safe space. In the age of Pulse, very anxious gays, such as myself, could go without the bang-bang-bang (so often off beat) slapping our fun night away. I leave, so you can have your fun, but there are softer versions of your prop, a nice breeze to cool the room. Or consider the tools of rhythmic gymnastics! An expressive spinning with a ribbon yells pride louder than your reminder that I could be killed because I like to suck dick.

Our Beloved Baby

When my partner and I decided to have a baby (buy a purebred puppy), we started the process by discussing it with our doctor (looked at a breed guidebook). After several weeks of trying (locating the right breeder), I finally got pregnant (got on a waiting list and received documentation on the surrogate mother), and we couldn't be more happy!

My labor (waiting for the dog to be born) was very long and difficult and tested our patience. We finally left the hospital (picked up the puppy after it was weaned) and happily brought our baby home! We had decorated the nursery (put a dog bed in the pantry) and our baby was overjoyed (peed on the floor) to see it!

It's been rough being new parents... the late nights (constant whining and yapping), changing dirty diapers (scooping up hot poop in a bag) and generally losing a lot of sleep (constant whining and yapping), but it's been well worth it. Introducing ourselves as a dog mom and dad fills our hearts with joy. Holding my baby (dog) on my hip and taking selfies to post on social media with the caption "a parent's never-ending love for their dog-child" is probably the greatest thing ever! I LOVE the attention!

We never thought being a dog mom and dad would be so rewarding, but it's taught us a lot like leaving our dog-child alone for 9+ hours while at work will probably result in a messy diaper (poop and pee on our new sustainable hardwood floors). We're considering getting a new crib (cage) to keep the messes (pee and poop) to a minimum.

Ahh... we love our wittle baby (dog) and love being a dog mom and dad (dog owners)!

Confessions of a Male Escort #3

Confession 3: Just wanted to clear a few things up. The people I've had encounters with and the life I've lived at my age is more exponential then most can even comprehend. That's why I post about my profession. I know for a fact you haters love to hear about it otherwise you wouldn't continue to comment on my posts. No one cares? You must sweetie, otherwise you wouldn't be leaving a comment. That's okay though, thanks for the attention baby I'm flattered. Oh and one more thing, does anyone really care about the bullshit you all rant about on this anonymous blog? My posts are by far more intriguing then the bleak lives you live. Truck stop? Sorry boo not familiar. I get payed a couple racks to look beautiful and be arm candy. What do you do?

If the Heat Doesn't Kill You, I Might

Look, I know its Portland. And I know you like driving slow. I know it makes your dick hard/pussy wet to piss off every car behind you by going 10 miles under the speed limit. But it's summer time. It's literally 100 degrees RIGHT NOW as I type this. And because I'm a dyke with a specific ascetic and no money I drive an old truck with no AC. So while you're cruising around in your Prius going 19 miles an hour down MLK with the AC blasting I need the actual wind in my hair to feel cool (ascetically and temperature wise). That wind only blows when I drive faster than 20 miles an hour. Without that breeze I'm so hot I want to fucking murder you. I want to run you RIGHT OFF THE FUCKING ROAD. I have an electric vibrator with more speed than your electric car. So get over your perfectly temperatured self righteous ass and drive like a normal fucking person. Or I might just follow you home and kick your ass.

Confessions of a Male Escort

Confession 2: First thing you should know about me is I take pride in embracing my sexuality and the the profession I CHOOSE to pursue. Why brag you ask? Well its quite easy when there's tricks like you that decide to troll the internet just to comment on an "illiterate" whores anonymous blog post. Pretty sad if you ask me. Someone must be bored of their 9-5 minimum wage paying metier. Oh and just a disclaimer, never said I actually had s*x with my clients. I'm compensated for my time and companionship only, something you seem to not have much exposure too. Maybe you can give me a ring?


To quote Lil' Kim "When you need someone to talk too, someone to fuck you. Satisfaction guaranteed I give what you need. Call me, just call me!"

Yuk Yuk Yuck

No one should feel self-conscious about their laugh. Except you. Comic: check your chuckle.

Real laughter is the sound of joy, catharsis and recognition of shared experience escaping from an amused human.

Too often yours is not a genuine human laugh. It's affected. It's a rude interjection. It's a heckle.

You might think you're helping. Lots of hecklers feel that way. You're wrong.

Stand-up is symbiotic. The comic feeds the audience with funny. The audience feeds the comic with laughter. You're eating off everyone's plate.

Your laugh is the bark of the Great Dane next-door who can't let the Chihuahua down the block get all the attention.

Your laugh pisses on the room to mark your territory and assert yourself as the alpha.

The problem isn't that you're loud. Loud is great. You're just noisy. Like an alarm on a car nobody bumped.

It's not even that it's monotonous. There's some variety. We've heard you be patronizing, attention-seeking, virtue-signaling and editorializing. But we didn't come to hear what you think, nor what you think we should think. We came to laugh. For real. It's supposed to be a fun ride we're all on together. But unless you're onstage, don't do the driving.

You're a comic. You should know better. Few will call you out, not out of respect, but out of fear. Hell hath no fury like a caller-outer called-out. You're no hero of a safe scene. You're a bully. But that's a whole other I, Anonymous.

If you can't handle the anonymity of the crowd, stay out of the audience. When another comic is on, it's their house. You and your fake-ass laugh are trespassing.

Confessions of a Male Escort

Confession 1: Despite popular opinion often times an escort, hooker, whore whichever sort of semantics you wish to use, a sex worker can be very high class. I'm independent which means I charge a LOT and the money goes straight to me, not through someones hands first. Class, discretion, & professionalism are a huge part of marketing yourself as high class. One of the best parts of being an Escort is totally being worshiped and treated like the King (or Queen) you are AND getting payed for your time!


A penny for your thoughts

Now I see a little more clearly! It's not men who are the problem, it's masculinity. Certainly the phallus wielding persuasion of humans can be great oppressors, but it's not the cock, it's the way it's fetishized. Penis = power is a really IMPOTENT argument. It's like a pyramid. Patriarchy trickles down the idea of the Mighty Phallus to all possessors of penises consciously or subconsciously, but the idea of Patriarchy means there are Patriarchs- the great kings of penisocracy, the ones who will do all for the penis, everything for the penis, all the penises in the world, all the hairy, throbbing, throbbing with power, manly, very manly penises. They will die for the penis, they will kill for it.

Just saying cause I know a lot of good guys who don't believe penises as the end all penis all.

Daycare Douchebags

To the asshats that park at the daycare lot and start anally blasting the neighborhood with rap music at 2am: Fuck You. I get it, the party doesn't end after the bar down the street closes, but the daycare sits behind a house and a large apartment complex where children, animals and tons of other people live. Not to mention there are 4-5 apartment complexes down and across the street and literally everywhere within a block of you. I personally do medical treatments at night that you are disrupting, so I can't exactly go down and politely ask you to stop. This isn't the first time you have done this. Thankfully it's not a regular occurrence but when it does happen, you guys stay there for hours blasting music (sometimes from two cars at once playing completely different songs; what the fuck is up with that??) standing around and screaming. Y'all aren't even dancing or doing anything remotely interesting. Fucking lame. Also thanks for choosing one of the hottest fucking days of the year to do this, ensuring that everyone around you without AC gets to pick between listening to you or baking alive in their apartment. Look, when you start up at 11:30 on a Saturday evening, I don't really give a shit. That isn't unreasonable, especially since the bars around here are loud until 1am. But no, tonight you had to pop up at 2:30 in the fucking morning and based on previous occurrences you'll probably be here for at least another two hours. (It's 3:30 as I'm writing this.) Honestly, the only reason we haven't called the cops on you is you're all POC and we can't trust the police department not to do something stupid. Please just fuck off.

How’s the catfish boss?

I catfished my old boss. Here’s how it went. Work wise, for a year, I did everything I could to be a model employee. She never let up and continued to treat me like shit in every way possible, she was miserable made sure I was while I was there. I ate crow the entire time and continued looking for a better job.
Little did I know she was single and on the prowl, so when I noticed her profile, I created a patsy to engage her with. She ate it up while I dangled a perfect match, luring her in. My profile mirrored her quite well. On my last day at work, I called in sick(duh) and had her driving to meet my catfish creation at a restaurant on the coast, Where she Wonders what’s taking me so long and checks her inbox, I’ll let her know she can go fuck herself.

Hit and runs

Dear Portland Drivers,

You suck for many, many reasons but this is the second time my tiny car has been hit in a designated parking spot in a lot while parked. Both hits had substantial damage. Not just scraped paint from the car but large dents, punctured metal etc. My insurance went up $60/month from the last hit and run repair, I can’t imagine how much more it’ll go up for this one. It’s not that hard to avoid hitting cars parked in designated spots in parking lots!


Sucking Putin's cock while destroying the Western alliance is Toddler Dump's most dangerous agenda of all. We are dangerously close to falling into an authoritarian dictatorship and some people are still whining about Hilary Clinton. The EPA is carving up the planet and firing scientific analysts and all the news can talk about is Scott Pruitt's $1500 pens. The new tariffs are poised to wreak financial ruin on farmers and manufacturers all over the country and if I complain about it on Facebook I get harassed by conservatives telling me how great the stock market is doing, since corporations kept ALL THE MONEY Trump gave them. 3000 children are being detained away from their parents in dog kennels and president Trump continues to use G13 to describe the millions of innocent people who are facing horrific conditions that are mostly to blame on our own policies of regime change, corruption, and corporate larceny. And the Trump family is violating the emoluments laws to the tune of billions of dollars but if you tell that to a Republican they'll just start talking about how Bernie Sanders has a couple of nice houses. I don't give a fuck about Republicans or Democrats, but if Congress doesn't flip this fall I am seriously considering repatriating.

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