Because You Care!

I've been out of town for the past two weeks, but I'm sure I'll have interesting stories to tell about the pathetics of Ptown promptly!

In another downtown locale I found myself in the Red Light District. I thought that was just a place dreamed up in tinseltown; silly me!

All I wanted to do was find a restaurant and a new pair of jeans. I was trying to look chic, or just tall in jeans and a pair of heels, but that novel idea outlasted the actual proliferation by an immense ratio. Around one street corner I found myself staring down a big street, full of doorways, and red light bulbs illuminating their shadows.

Halfway down the street I saw two bums fighting over a $7 price tag (zero's purposefully and intentionally omited, so yes, just $7). We figured this was heading no where enlightening, so we turned around just before reaching a toothless streetwalker who found us amusing. She followed us for two blocks taunting us: "Found yourself in the ghetto, did you? That's right... Turn around, turn around, turn your pretty little faces around and get going... You don't belong here with all of us... Scared?... " Imagine a little bit of snickering tucked in as well.

Actually, I will admit that I was impressed with her diction.

Winners and Losers and Potato!

Someday, I would like to dedicate a blog to the winners of this fair city, but tonight I'm just saluting the one loser I ran into tonight. I hope someone reads this, knows the person I am talking about, accidentally doesn't see them in the middle of the street in the middle of the night because they are hanging their head low and wearing all black, and hits them with their car.

Around 8:30 PM I was looking for a parking spot on 17th and NW Glisan, right outside McMenamins. Out of my right window I spotted a man vehemently and intently tearing a poster off the pole. I wanted to see if he was going to clean up his mess or leave it on the ground, and if it did leave it, I wanted to tell him what a pathetic scumbag he was. As it turns out, I had an entirely different reason to believe that he's a scumbag.

So - on with the story! My husband realized that he was tearing down the poster about Potato! If you live in this city, I don't know how you could possibly not know about Potato - but Potato is a precious 1 year Bulldog that was stolen from his family! There is a current $5,000 reward for him!
http://www.myspace.com/bringpotatohome

We both got really excited thinking that maybe Potato was found! In fact, the guy saw us watching him and even picked up the pieces of the poster he tore down, so we were thinking that he may just be a straight up guy! As he passed by my window, I asked eagerly: "Did you find Potato?"

He replied sinisterly, "Yeah! Dead! I shot her in the head."

We were both stunned for a minute. He didn't skip a beat, he just spun around on his heels and continued on walking up Glisan. I can't even express how immensely horrific and disquieting his demeanor was.

Well, obviously something just didn't feel right - it goes without saying this scumbag likely has something to do with Potato missing. From McMenamins he walked up Glisan to 19th and turned left until he got to the NW Fred Meyer. He obviously lives in town because he was on foot and knows his direct way around town. Unfortunately I didn't see him come out of FM.

Late 40's
5'10"
Brown Hair
Medium Build
Straight nose with bulbous end
Square jaw with pockmarked cheeks
Small mouth, thin lips
He was wearing a dark blue jacket and cream slacks with a tan Beret

Please - let Potato's family know if you know this person or you see him! I live downtown too, so I can keep my eye out if you will please post comments here, and on Potato's page to keep everyone posted! Potato was also seen up the street on 21st and Irving. A picture was taken of a person seen with Potato - the person I saw is not the same person!

You'd Be Surprised How Many People are Out and About at 3:00 AM.

I just overheard a couple arguing about which of the two were shorter, the man adamant that he was short!

Following them, I heard a man yelling about a car bomb. Yikes, that actually sounds a bit scary now that I think about it.

Then, a serious of people pretending to be cats and dogs. The dog people were much more believable then the cat people.

Whip Cream & German Midgets

There are a few things in this world I don't know, and many of those things involve David Hasselhoff. I know that he is a drunk slob and I know that he is sometimes on, sometimes off, the show, "America's Got Talent."

The other evening downtown, I came across a rowdy bunch of guys. They were all very large, very rambuncktious, and very friendly. One of them in particular was having some difficulty walking and talking, and refraining from laughing after enjoying his night on the town. He was very earnest and made me a promise:

"I WILL NEVER DRINK WITH GERMAN MIDGETS LIKE DAVID HASSELHOFF AGAIN!"

I had a roommate in college that was obsessed with midgets. She used to work at Wet Seal and she always said that if she owned a midget, she would have them hang out in a circular clothes rack at her job. Then when she needed to hang something up she could call for them and they would peek out from the clothes, hold out their stubby hands, and hang them up for her. She was very explicit about this. She also liked to poke her arm with syringes full of air.

Later that night, I was fortunate enough to come across these guys again. This time they were across the street from me standing precariously in front of some bushes. I thought they were "taking care of business" and I was fine with not knowing, but one of the bunch saw me walking past. Even though I was on the other side of the street, he informed me:

"NO! WE AREN'T DOING WHAT YOU THINK! WE AREN'T DOING WHIP IT HITS!"

The Wash Cycle

One of the people who live in my building has figured out how to do their laundry for free. All they have to do is wait until someone else starts their wash and leaves the room. They take that laundry out of the machine and plops it on the floor.

One day I waited for the perp. I was standing next to the washers facing the door when he walked in. He looked scared to see me, not that it should be uncommon to find someone else in the laundry room. He left immediately; walked in, peeked in, walked out. When he came back he went and got his laundry out of the dryer. I watched him without saying a word. He refused to make eye contact. I walked out with him and watched him walk home.

I let him watch me watch him.

Someone else has drama laundry woes too:

I have written "you're welcome" over her note.

Entrepreneurs with a Fro

I was solicited outside a grocery story today by an artist. He really, really wanted to show me his drawings... he said, "it would really make him happy."

I said, "Why?"

He is trying to sell them. They are "awesome" circles and black dots and lines on lined college rule paper. He is only selling them for $1 and $2 each. I should have just bought one to scan in.

I said I didn't have any cash. Of all the things I could have used as an excuse, I felt bad. I might as well have said, "They are terrible."

As I started walking away, I turned back. "Have you tried Craigslist?"

No, thank you, he replies. I think he thought I was trying to invite him someplace.

I took a step closer and said again, "Have you tried selling them on Craigslist?"

"No. I don't have a camera."

"You could use the public libraries scanner."

"No. I don't want to."

Concert in the Park

If you haven't got a chance to check out Ebony and Ivory's holiday concert - do so ASAP!

You will know you have found them when you are downtown, in front of Pederson's, Nordstrom, or the Living Room. Ebony will be perched upon his 'city bug' scooter, dressed all in black. Ivory will be sporting his silver puffy jacket, declaring that he "still has 53 pairs of earrings to sell!" upon his milk crate.

Usually Ivory will have main control of the disc man pumping out the digitized background music, but there is no clear star of the show! Both men share lead vocals, devoid of emotion or rhythm for that matter.

Enjoy, and be sure to post your own review!

Presidents of the USA

The Presidents always put on a good show, particularly when at the best small venue in the city, and last night's show did not disappoint; despite their new smoking agenda.

This is the thing about downtown - people think because they either are, or pretend to be crazy they can get away with virtually anything they want to. That, or they are just plain stupid - which is high to extremely probable.

I made my way to the front of the crowd during the show, but during the mosh pit portion of "Kitty" I was shoved to the 2nd row. As I remained there in the 2nd row, shoved around by the mosh pit behind me and thereby inadvertently shoving everyone else around me, this pathetic loser next to me says: "Not going to happen."

I deduced that this was his first concert for multiple reasons:

1. He thought I was the solitary person in a group of 600 people shoving him, solitarily.

2. He protected his position in the 2nd row with one hand clutching the railing in front of the first row, his other hand wrapped around the large man in front of him and because the poor boy was only about 5'4" he couldn't see a thing above or around his boyfriend, but obviously believed that he had the best position in the entire venue. Not to mention the fact that he was enjoying butt hugging the man in front of him.

A few moments later I felt a hand on my butt. Typical - when everyone is shoving, but then I felt the hand creeping down. I whipped around the see this fat bozo standing behind me looking creepy, ugly and disgusting. I said, as I elbowed his collarbone, "Don't touch me." He looked eerily guilty as he shrugged his shoulders.

Nearing the end of the concert, I decided to head back to find my cohorts and on my way back I happened to pass right by the groper. As I was still pretty heated, I turned towards him and shoved him hard, enough that he fell to the ground.

I should have followed up with a swift kick to the groin, but I never think of the best things to do and say until after the fact - something I need to promptly improve upon!

This Blog Should Be Titled: Adventures & Mishaps With My Dog

Now that I have recovered from my accident, I feel up to retelling my McDonald's story. Also, I should confess a small misrepresentation about my accident blog: Although I did have many scrapes and bruises on both my knees and elbows - it wasn't exactly "nearly to the bone"...

Now: For purposes of clarification, because I don't neglect my doggie - on another occasion that I had my little doggie with me walking home from work, I needed to stop by McDonalds to drop off a movie we rented at the RedBox. (This is starting to sound like a pay per post, but unfortunately my bank account is not benefiting from me writing about my mishaps - and I need money desperately (I don't want money, I need money!)) Anyway, Redbox is relatively simple - You hit return DVD, slip your DVD into the slot and leave. A feat easily accomplished in less then 10 seconds - a short enough amount of time that my obedient little doggie is able to sit still for.

I had not stepped into the store more than a foot before a McDonalds Servant began shouting at me: "Get Your Dog Out of Here! NO DOGS, NO DOGS!"

The last thing I said calmly was, "I'm just returning a DVD."

"I don't care, NO DOGS!"

"And what exactly am I supposed to do with him?"

"I don't care - tie him up outside!"

"I'm not tying him up out there with all those bums - he'll get stolen! I'll only be a few seconds!"

"No you won't - Get your dog out of here right now!"

At this point one of the other customers came up and offered to watch my dog outside while I returned my DVD. I wish instead that I had thrown the DVD at him, but as I mentioned my lack of money I didn't want to be charged $25 for the DVD! So, I allowed the nice man to take my doggie outside while I returned the DVD.

Because I regretted my decision not to throw the DVD at him, I came home and wrote a letter to the McDonalds franchise and to McDonalds Corporation highlighting the events of the evening emphasizing their supposed commitment to the community, yet lack of basic manners to their customers. This is what we call a paradox.

A few days later I got a call from the McDonalds store offering me and my family free dinner - whatever we wanted, and we could bring our dog so that he could dine with us. Check back tomorrow and I'll scan a picture of our lovely evening at the McDonalds restaurant.

My Doggie Gets Me Into A Lot of Trouble!

I would love to blog the story about my fight with the manager of McDonald's but I am still writhing in pain from my bike accident due to a pathetic, asinine, incorrigible, ruthless, unintelligent fool who has a tail that he hides between his legs from the shame of living a worthless, loathsome, meaningless, abhorrent, revolting existence.

Currently, both my thighs are black and blue, the left one is worse. I must have fallen and slid primarily on my left side although since I blacked out, I don't entirely remember the entire incident.

Maybe tomorrow... check back. I'll probably have a great story because I'm going to a sports game at the local University and I'll be cheering for the away team!

A World Class Piece of Crap

I may have a concussion, so if this doesn't make complete sense, you will know why. To preface: All the expletives in the world can not express my absolute outrage over the events of the past few hours.

I was riding my bike today with my dog. He does great on a bike. He knows not to run in front or behind the bike, but to stay next to me running at the same speed. And, he loves it. He gets to run and run and run. We made it within a block of our destination. I was in the street of a two lane busy street and he was up on the sidewalk.

Everything was fine - until a big dog came out of the parking lot we were riding/running past. My dog got a little nervous, and I tried to keep him running, but it was too late. He stopped. Of course, if he stops and I'm holding his leash, I stop!

I flew into traffic! It was nothing short of a miracle that no cars were driving past as I flew from my bike next to the sidewalk, past one lane of traffic into the far left lane and slid about 6 feet. Through my denim jacket with sheepskin lining, and a long sleeve sweater both my arms were scratched nearly to the bone, my knees also. My cell phone flew with me and the front screen broke.

Sure, it was an accident. Bicyclists get into accidents all the time, particularly when you are holding a leash and a small dog is trailing you. But, there exist leash laws for a reason - and this is one of them. On the other hand, I allow my dog off a leash at times too, but I also watch him and my surroundings at all times - and if my dog causes a problem, an accident or a potential car pileup, I don't scurry away with my tail between my legs.

I was a bit disorientated after my fall. I saw the bright lights of the 8 cars stopped because I was lying in the middle of the road. I heard my dog whining and felt him licking my face nudging me up. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man hiding against the building next to the parking lot, and softly calling: "Parker" which I can only assume was the name of his huge gi-normous black dog that caused the accident in the first place!

I got up, assured those stopped in their cars I was OK, pulled my bike up onto the sidewalk, and saw the jackass skimping off. I started walking after him yelling, "Hey! Hey!" He kept going, not even turning around. "I know you can hear me - STOP!"

He turned around the corner, but I was just behind him. I turned around the corner and he was gone. There was no where he could have been, I looked around for a minute, and not seeing him I decided to give it up. I turned back around and started heading towards my bike - but I was too infuriated. I started back in his direction again, and there he was coming out of the bushes! I started running after him; he also started running - away from me! I kept yelling, "Hey! Hey! Hey!" He turned another corner. When I rounded the corner, again he was gone. I looked behind the bushes but I didn't see him anywhere.

There were several apartments here, and there was a chance he entered one, although I was sure he was just hiding again. What a world class piece of trash! I was so infuriated and I couldn't stomach chasing after this pathetic loser anymore! I screamed loud enough for the whole block to hear: "Come out here you stupid, worthless coward!" No sight of him... "You freaking pathetic excuse for a human being - I can't believe you! I hope you sleep at night knowing you left me in the middle of the road!" And just for good measure, "Put your freaking dog on a leash!"

Crazies work here too!

I can only assume, based on my experience that because the downtown area is full of crazies, it is a prerequisite to working downtown that you must be a crazie also.

I have an issue with my car. When I make a sharp turn to parallel park, or complete a U-turn I hear a clicking noise. In addition to that when I am driving highway speeds and I press on the brakes my steering wheel shakes. Obviously, something is wrong. I took my car into LES SCHWAB on NW 19th! 3 times before they finally agreed that something was wrong.
I'm not sure why I kept taking it back.
Finally, on my 4th trip they determined that the rear wheel bearing needed replacement. It would take 2 weeks to fix - we had company so we asked if the car was safe to drive. The mechanic said, verbatim: "If my brother wanted to drive around with your car and his wife and two friends and a baby, I would break his arm."

Well great! I've been driving around on this car for months - during which you kept telling me nothing was wrong!

So it was fixed. I was a bit skeptical so when I went in to pick up the car I asked for a detailed explanation of what was done on the car considering my previous experiences. The chavanist at the front desk told me, verbatim: "We did whatever you asked us to do." I said, "And, what was that?" He replied, "It's all here," pointing to a sheet of paper. I responded, "Did you balance the tires?" He answered, "Did you ask us to?"

I took the car and left. Now, it's about a month later. The wheel is no longer shaking, but it's still making a clicking noise when turning.
I called LES SCHWAB again - why? I'm stupid!
When I called I started to explain my problem and they guy who answered the phone, probably the same chavanist who returned my car previously told me he didn't need to hear the problem, he already knew what the problem was! and referred me to Kyle. He was actually very helpful. I told him the problem, and I told him my reservations about returning - he was very clear that he wanted to earn our business so I decided to give them one more try.

I couldn't make my appointment at 11:00 for the next day, so about 10 after I called and Danielle answered the phone. I began explaining, "Hi, I had an appointment at 11, and I am obviously late..." .... .... .... She hung up on me. Maybe it was a mistake, so I called back. I tried something else, "Hi, I had an appointment today and I wanted to reschedule because I am late and..." ... ... ... Okay, this time it wasn't a coincidence. I called back, fully ready to confront her! But Jason answered this time - I rescheduled and then I asked if they were having difficulties with their phone system. They weren't, so I asked who the woman was who answered the phone before him, and told him that she hung up on me twice! He paused for a minute, and then said, "Oh... yeah."

You can argue that maybe it's me. I may come across a bit rude and snobbish in my retelling of my experiences, and that may lead you to believe that I act in the same way in my interaction with businesses and their employees! But! the customer is always right! And I don't act that way in person.

Anyway, I'm calling the Manager Joe on Monday, and they lost my business for the last time! This time for real!

Bestiality

I'm walking home from downtown about midnight on Thursday with my dog, and a big truck drives past with some kid hanging his head out the window, presumably because he's about to throw up.

He spots my dog and begins verbally and affectionately coddling him.

"Oh Craig, Hi Craig! Aren't you cute Craig... Yes, good boy Craig pee on that fire hydrant Craig. I love you Craig."

My dog's name is not Craig, nor am I acquainted with this crack head for the record.

The driver reaches the end of the block, and we are no longer in his sights, but I can only suppose the vision of "Craig's beauty" lingers in his memory.

"Craig!! Craig!! I'm so drunk Craig! Help me Craig! I love you Craig!"

He passes another block, but fearing Craig may not be able to hear him, his voice escalates as his distance increases.

"Craig!! Craig, find me! I will (perform sexual acts on you) Craig!"

It was a poignant scene.

Petty Testosterone

Because I don't neglect my dog, contrary to what some fat lady told me on the corner the other day just because he loves people and was excited she was petting him, I often take him to work with me.

My path to work leads us by a leashless dog park which we typically stop by as a daily routine. Today though I was in a hurry, and I had an appointment I had to make it to, so I didn't intend to stop but there was a cute little dog playing alone, off his leash and my doggie so badly wanted to play with him. So, while still on his leash I let them tussle a bit and finally I decided it was wrong to deprive him so I announced quite loudly, "C'mere doggie, I will take you off your leash!"

Those two went crazy! They were having soooooooooooooooo much fun, it was adorable. If you have a dog, and you are a decent person, you will know that it is a common practice for dog owners to make small talk while their dogs are playing. So, I proceeded to ask the guy how old his dog was. He ignored me, so I thought maybe he didn't hear me because he was a short distance away, so I asked louder. There is no question if he heard me or not, unless he was deaf, which I came to learn in a few seconds was not the case so he ignored me again and began walking away from me. By this point our dogs were running in huge circles all over the park. He began chasing after his dog, in what appeared was his attempt at still looking suave while I watched amused.

After many failed attempts to call his dog and reign him in, he made a lunge but his dog evaded him and instead he plummeted to the ground. This clearly upset his frail self-esteem and he screeched at me, "Lady! Call your ******* dog!!!!!!!!!!!" I ignored him for a minute, but then I got really enraged when he screeched at me again, and I said, "Listen don't yell at me because you can't control your dog!"

I was infuriated! What nerve! Are you kidding me, so I yelled again, "Don't ever, ever talk to me like that ever again!" with special emphasis on ever! He responded, "You are the one who took your dog off his leash in the first place!" I retorted, "You freaking idiot! This is a LEASHLESS DOG PARK!" Even though as he scurried away he mumbled under his breath like a 2 year old, "Nuh uh".

http://hinessight.blogs.com/hinessight/2003/11/lust_and_longin.html Even these fools know what to do at a dog park!

Scant Vagabonds

It's been a slow couple of days when it comes to the crazies - not to mention I've been away from home... so there is little to share; however the first night we were living here we were awoken from a sound sleep to a crazy woman shouting at the top of her lungs!

I thought she was saying, "Get Out! Get Out of here!" accompanied by some expletives. It went on for a good 1/2 hour before the people above us screamed at her to shut her cake hole! But the next day I was talking to a neighbor who was outside at the time, and told me she was actually screaming: "Get out of MY HEAD!"

Fortunately we live straight across from a pub from which the likes of many crazies attract! and this is not an uncommon occurrence. About two weeks ago some guys were out there talking amongst one another as if they were in an opera, every syllable extended, high pitched and drawn out and surprisingly it took a while for them to grow weary of it! To date these romantic gentlemen have been my favorite, late night serenade.

Happy Halloween Goblins!

I got a call from a very disgruntled woman at work today, and bless her heart she tried with all her might to sound terrifying and bossy, and in her attempt to antagonize me all she accomplished was to get made fun of on my blog! I almost feel bad for her.

The conversation went as follows - the initials representing her will be OFL, (Old Feeble Lady) and my initial will be K, (Kitty):

OFL: "I demand to know the name and phone number of the owner of your company!"
This info is pretty much common knowledge, especially considering the fact that she had enough prowess to find my name and number...

K: "Sure, I would be happy to give you that information."
It's always been my policy when people misdirect their frustration and anger, to help them out a bit by multiplying their initial agitation, so first I told her the name of the company, and then I followed up with:
"However, I will just need to verify who you are."
Any one else, even mildly adept could have taken the name of the company and located its telephone number, but I won't blatantly insult her further by stating her inadequacies and failures for the entire web.

OFL: "Just give me the phone number!"

K: "Okay, but like I said, I just need to verify who you are."
What's more, is that she didn't even make up a name so that I would stop taunting her!

OFL: "Oh, just tell me me! 503 - then what!!"

K: "Yes, it starts with 503, and I would be happy to tell you the rest if you just verify who you are."
Of course, I'm speaking totally facetiously allowing my voice to drip with all the honey it possesses.

OFL: "Fine, I'm calling with the FBI! Would you prefer that they call you instead?"

The Clapper

So this is a funny little story. Yesterday, early evening outside this mid rise apartment building there was an ambulance parked with it's lights flashing. It kinda looked like a scary building, so I decided to walk that route home. A middle aged woman and a quite older man were outside. He was sitting, however she couldn't stand still; her eyes were darting she was hopping up and down, clearly wacked out.
Before long, the paramedics wheel out another middle aged women. Sobbing she says to the hopped out one, "Pray for meeeee..." to which the hopped out woman responds, "Of course!" and skips around a bit.
Still wailing, they cart her into the ambulance. The hopped out woman says to her elderly boyfriend, "She probably fell - and hurt her bum again!"

Bumper Cars

When I got my drivers license at 16 I had to prove my prowess at parallel parking. I didn't have to park in between any cars, I simply had to reverse my vehicle in a straight line. I hit the curb going back, again when straightening forward, and again on the 2nd attempt.

I could only assume I had miserably failed my entire examination based on the parallel parking portion, but after we returned to the DMV I was awarded my new shiny translucent freedom pass.

I have since improved upon my skils, often impressing those present in my vehicle with me when I am displaying my talents. But... I know many persons who haven't been bequeathed with my particular aptitude for curbside parking.

One of whom I witnessed on my way home from school the other day. I'm not sure what this bloke was trying to accomplish, whether he was practicing for a driving test or what, but he totally rammed into the car behind it. It was priceless!! He was in a massive truck, and he was parked in front of a small white Honda. I think he was trying to park, because based on the situation I don't think he could have been leaving. He somehow had backed up onto the curb, nearly parallel with the Honda behind him. As he left and attempted to drive off, he clipped the Honda and latched onto the Honda's bumper - and he just kept going and going and going. He was halfway into the street before he realized he was trailing the poor Honda's bumper.

The best part was that he got out of his car, tried to reattach the bumper to the Honda and then got back into his truck. Then, he looked all around and saw me writing down his license plate number. Then he got back out and left a note for the Honda.

That is one of the real perks of living downtown - the constant suspense of not knowing if your car will be demolished the next time you check on it.

Crafty Bums!

I tell you what, those homeless bums are getting crafty! No more silent begging on the street corner with a sign casually requesting spare change from a passerby, it's all about brazen, in your face, petulant, demanding and coersive gimmies!
Last night we were trying to rent a movie and I was sitting on the stairs waiting while he picked it out. This girl came strolling up to me and yelled, "Yo will you give me som' money for a tampon?"
Maybe she thought I would relate as a female, I don't know - maybe she was going for the shock value but I gotta give her some props for creativity because it was an original business plan, I'll give her that!