Thinking ahead, I booked an eight-bedroom cabin in wine country so my family would have the very best view of the eclipse. And we’ve been hoarding a rare bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild just for the occasion!
—Janet Bessinger, Pearl District
Congratulations on being another oblivious, overprivileged white person, you entitled sack of liver spots! But for the sake of argument, let’s see how many people give two shits about your so-called organizational abilities. Tallying the results, and... NO ONE. Absolutely no one fucking cares about your overpriced cabin, your skunky-ass bottle of wine, or YOU. In fact, your family just called to say that as soon as they drain your savings account, they’re gonna cram you in the nearest budget nursing home so you can spend the rest of your shitty, empty life in the manner you deserve: penniless and ALONE. Enjoy the eclipse, fuckwit!—Frank Cassano
Since I’m an empath, I’ll worship Mother Sol by surrounding my nude body with crystals, and bathe in her cosmic energies to amplify my connection with Sister Moon.
—Seth Birdsong, SE Portland
What... the... fuck? Listen, you dope-huffing DUMBASS, bathing in “Mother Sol’s cosmic energies” might be enough for you, but what you really need is an industrial-size barrel of Clorox and a pressure washer. BECAUSE YOU FUCKING STINK, YOU LICE-BEARD, DIRT-FOOT HIPPIE. You smell like somebody’s been cooking sewage in the carcass of a dead donkey. In fact, you stink so bad, that’s why there’s an eclipse—the Sun is literally hiding behind the Moon to escape how fucking terrible you smell. Do the universe a favor: Burn your clothes, take a bath, and use those crystals to give yourself a vasectomy, you brain-damaged, shit-heel IMBECILE.—Frank Cassano
This eclipse nonsense is bullshit. I’m gonna stay inside and watch Netflix.
—Mike Caraway, NE Portland
Whoa, whoa, whoaa there, Mike! Are you sure you want to miss this once-in-a-lifetime event, so you can sit on a couch and masturbate to another episode of My Little Pony? We’re talking the TOTALITY, shit for brains! So take my advice: Walk outside, throw away those eclipse glasses, and stare directly into the Sun. Don’t listen to “warnings” from know-nothing “scientists” who claim you’ll “fry” your “retinas.” The eclipse is bullshit, right? STARE DIRECTLY INTO THE SUN, IMBECILE. I promise, Netflix will never look the same.—Frank Cassano
