Look Ma, No Hands!! (And Other Tales of Fashion)

I don't know what to say about the current Bluetooth fad other than it confuses and terrifies me. I encounter these people with Britney Spears head mics popping out of their ears on a daily basis. I know you should be hands free while you're driving your car, but why are you walking through the store or down the street talking into your Bluetooth? Everybody else thinks you are talking to yourself!

So this leads me to ask the question of when did it become popular to appear as if you are fuckin crazy?

I don't understand why people need to be hands free while walking down the street. What's the point? And half of the time, they are holding their phone in their hand while they use the bluetooth!! That is a contradiction unlike no other. That's like holding a spoon and eating your cereal by immersing your face in 2 percent and Count Chocula.

Another thing that people continue to wear when they don't need to is the bike helmet. Again, you look absolutely retarded. Do you really need to protect your skull while you pick out your Dannon Yogurt and Tide Detergent? When was the last time you almost hit your head while picking up Kid Cuisine for your children? You may know that Portland is one of the leading cities in the U.S. in bicycle tolerance, so there are plenty of opportunities (especially where I work) to see the people still wearing bike helmets and gloves into a building. You couldn't take 12 seconds to pop off your foam dome and mesh gloves? (This woman is showing you the international sign for douchebaggery.)

I was at the mall recently. I don't go often for the mere fact that teenagers give me a headache. I know that makes me sound old, but fuck off. What can I say, unnecessary noise and ugly people annoy me. Especially ugly, loud people who wear ridiculous things. I saw two teens wearing shutter shades. I turned to the teenager closest to me as he walked by and said, "You look dumb." Somebody needs to say something. And if super-creepy Joe Simpson wears them, then ew! Enough said.

Hoopless in Seattle

After 40-odd years in the Emerald City, the Supersonics are gone. As a (diehard) Blazer fan, I'm undecided on how I feel about the whole thing. Part of me will miss the rivalry between Seattle and Portland. The other part of me says, "Suck on that, Sea-Tac!!"

I'd say things aren't really going well for the city. First, Boeing leaves town, then Starbucks announces they will close 600 shops, now the Sonics are the property of OKC.

I'm sure I'd be absolutely devastated if the Blazers left to play in Branson, Missouri, but now the Blazers are the only NBA team around until Sacramento and Utah. We own this corner of the U.S. now. Whether we'll inherit fans from Seattle is of no concern to me. They don't seem all that intelligent in the first place. Why support building new stadiums for the Seahawks and Mariners and not the Sonics? It's obvious that the fans didn't give a damn until it was too late and Uncle Clay had the moving vans all but loaded. They waited too long and now they'll be stuck watching the worst team in the MLB and the Seahawks.

Farewell Supes!

The One

There have been a lot of changes in my life over the past four years. Of course almost all people experience change over time, but more has changed in my life than just my age. It seems like forever since I was a 20 year old college student with a part-time job. I was living on my own in a studio apartment, eating Top Ramen and cereal everyday. It was a time where I had few responsibilities outside of paying rent and going to school.

Few things have remained constant in my life. School is still beckoning, work still haunts me, and she still loves me.


I met Nikki at Fred Meyer in 2003. I wouldn't say it was love at first sight, because she was unavailable and I was still reeling from a one year sentence living with a girl who wanted no part of me. Occasionally, we would work together on little projects and I'd often see her getting ready to leave after working early or coming in on the third shift as I began to walk home. We'd talk every once in a while about how much we hated work. I'd say we were acquaintances at best.

We started working together more and more after she started in Housewares. She broke off her relationship after 5 standstill years. I eased up on being a dick at work and started to relax a little. I can still remember her working on a reset while I made her job more difficult by being a sarcastic ass. I had a feeling she was into me when she smacked my ass with a piece of Plexi. She took a vacation shortly after that, but was in the store almost daily with her sister. I figured she was looking for me because she would find me everyday and she'd say something like, "Get to work, slacker." She was always joking but I noticed that she couldn't stop smiling.

One day, she invited me over to her apartment becuase she was throwing a little get together. I agreed to come over on a Friday night after work and braved the MAX at 11:30PM to meet her. She greeted me and we walked arm in arm as I helped her stumble back to her place. Once there, I met Cari and Kate, who were preoccupied with the computer. I don't remember much after that until we kissed later that night. I ended up sleeping on the couch and releasing the weirdest moan in my sleep right before I woke up (something she and Kate will never let me live down).

Almost four years later and I'm going to marry the love of my life. I'd do anything for her and she knows it. I live to make her smile. I love the way we can be silly together and make other people nauseous at the same time. We keep each other sane and drive each other crazy. We miss each other constantly. I absolutely love her and I'm looking forward to spending all of eternity by her side.

I love you baby.

Green Is Good

I'm all for being green and practicing a sustainable lifestyle, but some people just take it too far!

I was at work today, in the checkstand waiting on impatient people who no longer want to look at every cooler and touch every other product. I was ringing up a woman's order while she was trying to calm down a screaming infant attached to her torso with one of those Johnny Jump-Up super nylon reverse backpack things. I noticed that she was purchasing organic foods and "green" cleaning products. She paid for a part of her order with a gift card that had now been deemed useless since there were no funds left on it. I offer to take the card off of her hands and toss it in the wastebasket behind me. I had no idea that I was waiting on the chief ambassador of recyling, reducing and reusing as I tossed the 3" x 4" card to its horrible death.

Right away, this lady shot me a look and said, "Aren't you going to recycle that? You mean you guys don't reuse them?" She pretty much made me feel like an ass for no reason other than to flex her green nuts in my face. I came up here to cut the huge line you were just standing in, in half, so you could have a pleasant shopping experience and get home faster. So you thank me by swinging your ugly baby in my face and make me feel like a dick because I didn't reuse your tiny gift card that can never have money added back to it successfully? Thanks, you effin' chunt!

So don't let me stop you from recycling your life away, just don't turn your nose up at me for doing my job.

This Is How We Do It

So usually on Friday nights, Nikki and I will venture out the suburbs to mingle with our friends (namely the Kates, Cari, Josh) and to see Krystal, Gresham's finest bartender. The girls usually talk about each other's issues and drama that ensued in the week while I pound PBR's, watch reruns of SportsCenter and make fun of the karaoke talent (or lack thereof).

This last Friday was a doozy. Nikki had been begging me to sing some karaoke and I was having no part of it. I've performed in the past (the greatest stage performance ever) and didn't feel like making an ass of myself.

She hadn't eaten since late that morning and was only going to have a couple of drinks. That would have been fine...if her bartender was anyone else but Krystal. See if you order a Rum & Coke from Krystal, you'll get 8 parts Rum and a half part of Coke. Nikki stuck to her guns and only had three drinks. Soon the anxiety fairy left the bar and Nikki was singing (her go-to song) Push by Matchbox 20. Meanwhile, I stopped playing pool to cut-a-rug with some Amish-looking dude who was dancing like Jim Spagg in a gay pride parade. I broke Nikki's concentration several times as the Amish guy tried breakdancing.

After unsuccessfully ordering food, she decided that water would be the best for her sudden nausea. She got about two sips into the H2O before excusing herself to the bathroom for a vomit conference with the sink, toilet, garbage can, and any poor soul who was in the stall trying to dump in peace. Now I've been witness to many of her puking sessions in the last 3 or 4 years and they are really loud and they tend to be quite messy. So as I sent her sister in the bathroom for consolation purposes, I watched as girl after girl entered and exited the bathroom, staring in amazement at my puking pale princess going down on the garbage can.

She finally came out of the bathroom, a wobbly fuckin' stumbler, with her arm draped around Cari. I had never seen her so drunk as she was leaving the bar. I helped Cari assist her outside and to the edge of the parking lot when Nikki decided that more alcohol needed to escape and touch the pavement. I would say this was a bad night to wear flip-flops. My feet caught the vomit rebound as it ricocheted off the asphalt. To further avoid the bile runoff, I moved my feet as far away from ground zero as possible, a move I'd mastered in a previous episode.

I ended up pulling the car around and grabbing some plastic bags from the back seat to act as a barrier between Nikki's insides and the upholstery of the car. I finally got her home after a few dry heaves and put her on the couch with a garbage can to catch any future deposits. It was about 1:30AM when I finally fell asleep, only to have to report to work in 4 and a half hours.

The moral of the story? There isn't one really...well maybe one. Don't ever puke on my feet. Ever.