This is what I look like when I’m moving. Or, drunk. Or both. I haven’t written anything in a while because I have been moving. And maybe drunk? Perhaps a giggly combination of the two. But I’ve been happy, too, which always makes spilling my guts onto the internet a

OK so let’s just jump right into it, because I’m fucking bored, perpetually heartbroken this week, and just not really into anything. Usually that’s when I get my best writing done but lately all I can do is sit in bed and like, cry, or play this new-ish Simpsons game

Like most people that live in Portland right now, you’re probably thinking something along the lines of “the sky is grey, everything is grey, the choices I make get perpetually worse every year, my life is going nowhere, I want to die, is there someone available to take care of

Some dude who is probably leaving Portland after a one-year stand. Portland, my little city of dreams. I love you so much. Everyone claims to love you so much. Your dreary grey skies make for pretty poetry and days full of coffee and booze and strip clubs and cheap, delicious

“I think the underlying notion that we should be making decisions on behalf of women for their health care decisions, or qualifying forcible rape versus non-forcible rape, I think those are broader issues, and that is a significant difference in approach between me and the other party.” – Barack Obama

This was Chris and Chris’s Christmas Card one year I’ve known Chris Nieratko for like five years now. I first met him when my friend Sarah was working over at VICE in Brooklyn, and had to arrange his west coast book-signing tour for his then newly-released smut novel, SKINEMA (then a book,

GRRRR! Let’s date! Portland is not famous for it’s “people who are committed to just sleeping with one dude or chick for a presumably extended period of time” rate, let alone the amount of successful marriages. Whether you’re hanging out with someone in their mid-30s who is struggling not to overdose on