At a punk bar, a girl trying to be stern with her boy, “I pay for that bed, you don’t get to bring drunk randoms home and fuck them in it”. He just laughs at her.
Two or three cycles later she’s still playing stern but it’s softened to “if you’re going to fuck strangers in our bed *while they’re on their period* you have to put down at least two towels”
The weirdest thing wasn’t the guy on Alberta with the EX-GAY smock and SIN = DEATH sign, it was wondering “hey, wasn’t that the guy on 92nd with the neon shorts and ‘I’M GAY’ sandwich board a few months back?”
If it is, he’s either a compulsive over-sharer with a big recent change in his life, or a humiliation fetishist whose mistress gives him assignments covering all the bases.
As I’ve said, Cascadian culture most highly values books, beer, trees, and tits.
Hipsters Snap Selfies, Demand Ice Cream After 3 People Are Shot (Vocativ.com)
This one isn’t funny.
This one is hilarious.
(It’s about 6 blocks from my house, 3rd shooting in the area in a month or so, also 3rd since I’ve been here.)
Also, at this point the fair is for the Coachella crowd from Hillsboro and the Warped Tour crowd from Gresham, and Salt & Straw is for tourists.
There is this guy who it seems whenever I’m out on the porch for the past month jogs by shirtless, and his bouncing paunch looks a little less ridiculous each time.
UGH, dude, if you’re going to go around wearing a kilt, don’t skip leg day.
“Tumblr meets the 1990s” is kinda Portland’s aesthetic.
…conveniently neglecting to mention its role in the brutal occupation of Bajor…
@ Beulahland, Portland, OR
Man, I remember that episode of Mathnet.
what the fuck is up with portland
The winds of change are blowing
but portland was alawys like that
kontextmaschine I demand… kontext
Uh. That area’s got a few high-rise office buildings (it was planned as sort of a “new downtown, with better freeway access”, back when that was the kind of thing planners were planning).
Also not quite there but just south of there, across the freeway in a natural gulch, is a pretty street people-heavy area, but they’re pretty well behaved, a lot of them who came over the bridges to escape the shitshow downtown but stay in commuting range of social services.
What it probably is though, that’s the intersection of the major light rail lines that go out to the suburbs, including the methier ones.
But as I understand it, yeah, Portland’s just like that.
those tasting notes are completely accurate
So a year ago we started paying this neighborhood crackhead to mow the lawn, after the crackhead we had been paying disappeared to God knows where.
So he’s kept some tools in our side yard and then suddenly a month ago we wake up and it’s full of junk - busted up furniture, metal scrap, a commercial soil aerator(!) - and so the next time we see him we’re like “dude what the hell”.
He says he can’t keep it at home or his daughter will steal and sell it. Which, I guess, is what you get for establishing a business relationship with a crackhead. Promises to make it up to us by laying down some bricks for our bonfire.
Monday night go to sleep, wake up to this. For reference that pole in the back marks my cat’s grave, which I’d estimate at maybe 1/15th the size, took an hour to dig, and left me sore for a week.
