Hello Trash Pandas, and happy day-after-Labor Day! Like (hopefully) every one of you, I honored Labor Day by not crossing the picket lines at Fred Meyer's or New Seasons, and let me tell you, my grocery shopping has never been more fucked! I've been hitting up QFC and Winco and cannot find a damn thing. Neither can anyone else. We're all wandering around with a single item, trying to convince ourselves that all this can wait, we probably have enough food at home. Not to complain—strikes are meant to be disruptive! But it really makes me appreciate my neighborhood Freddie's, where things are in places that make sense, and there are enough carts, and I am efficient. I sure hope the folks up top at Kroger realize how bad this look is while they're also in the news for price gouging.

Enough about that. It's garbage time.

Jerks and Their Jets

Amazon founder Jeff Bezos bought a new private jet for 80 million dollars, even though he has two other ones, but this one is the fastest private jet money can buy, and it's special for its luxurious on-board kitchen. And like, pick a lane, Bezos. Do you want to hurry to get places, or do you want to bake a leisurely loaf of sourdough in the sky? I wonder if this is a situation where my brain can't comprehend being so filthy rich, because to me it makes NO SENSE to cook on an airplane! The smells? The mess? The fire hazard? Even if it's a private chef cooking for you—WHY? To me it just feels like when they launch, like, Doritos-flavored Cheetos. Not everything has to be two things. There are bad crossovers:

Speaking of rich assholes with private planes, the US government just seized the jet belonging to Venezuelan president Nicolas Maduro while it was in the Dominican Republic for maintenance. I don't especially care about this (seems like it could be a major international incident, but boring?), but I like the idea of a jet taking a holiday to the Dominican Republic. Let's always refer to periods of rest on tropical islands as "routine maintenance." 

Stamosology > Scientology

You know who never had a chance in Scientology? John Stamos. The Full House actor claimed on a podcast that he tried out the religion to impress a girl but he wouldn't stop fucking around with the e-meters so they made him leave. I'm impressed that anyone could be too annoying for a cult, and I'm not going to lie, I kind of want to see if I could do it? For an experiment. It'd be like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, except instead of imposing a love fern on Matthew McConaughey, I'd pretend to be the ghost of Shelly Miscavige during an audit. 

Speaking of annoying, pop star Chappell Roan has been on one about how she needs some space from her fans. Believe me, I get it! Not that I need space from my fans—my fans graciously give me so much space sometimes I'm not even sure they exist—but that too much of a good thing makes it not a good thing. Case in point: Chappell Roan. Has anyone else's Spotify forgotten that all other artists exist? No matter what song I start a shuffle with, I get "Pink Pony Club" within five songs. It is criminal to get sick of her music, and yet here I am! Chappell needs a break from her fans, and the fans also need a bit of a break from Chappell.

Also, streaming sucks in general! Let's bring back physical media, girls. Did you know that DVDs at Goodwill are like $2 and you can watch them as many times as you want? I don't know how that flying kitchen man Jeff Bezos convinced us it made sense to rent a movie to stream for $5.99 when if you fall asleep on the couch two nights in a row while you're trying to watch it, well... tough shit, that'll be another $5.99 to the personal jet fund if you want to finish it? We shouldn't have to live like this! 

Festival Trash

The Venice Film Festival is underway, and I like watching beautiful people exist in Italian-ly. Famous exes Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are both there promoting news films (Maria and Wolfs, respectively) and imagine the careful scheduling going on to make sure they don't accidentally end up in an elevator together. Lucky for Brad, his new girlfriend and his co-star George Clooney and Clooney's wife Amal have all been his buffers on the press calls. I get that Clooney and Pitt are in Wolfs together and being charming together on the red carpet is a must for publicity, but I sure liked George a lot better when he was dragging our elderly president in the op-eds than bro-ing down with a guy who (allegedly) abused his wife and children.

Also showing up to the Venice Film Festival: Daniel Craig and his wife Rachel Weisz. This isn't gossip as much as a PSA that Daniel Craig grew out his trademark buzzed hair and the result is one of the most stunning, well-conditioned couples to have ever lived. Please click through to see the pictures and schedule your next hair treatment.

Local Trash

Portland's oldest home was built in what is now the Bridlemile neighborhood in 1855. (Not counting the native peoples who inhabited the region for centuries, of course.) Less you think that something as cool as the city's oldest home would be protected, the house and land its on are for sale for close to $2 million and they're pitching it like a tear-down, although neighbors are hoping to turn it into a park. What I found interesting is that a descendent of the original owners lived there until just two years ago, and this same family has the surname of Tigard, yes, like that Tigard! I never really thought about how Tigard got its name, but something in the back of my head kind of assumed it was tiger-related? Turns out it's not.

That's all for now, loves. I'm off to sit in a sweater in front of the air conditioner because it shouldn't be 100 degrees in September, goddammit. 

Pumpkinly,