Soaking Wet Alternate Universe Blues

[Doktor Howl]

Having been to Portland twice inside of 30 days, I have to say that I am in fact grovelingly grateful to be back in Tucson.  Tucson may be in a desert.  It may have no air.  It may be full of dead people...But it's home, and it doesn't rain all the time.  Also, our dead people act like dead people, and not like some ghoulish hipster-esque version of Ricky Martin.

I saw Nigel the first time I was there, and not the second time.  You have to be careful with Nigel, mind you...If you look into her eyes, it might not be you that gets on the plane at the end of your stay.  It might LOOK like you, it might TALK like you, but something will be missing and you won't be able to put your finger on it.

The second time, Nigel was busy, and so I didn't spend the trip feeling like I had been stood on my head by angry Irishmen.  But I noticed that Portland isn't what it seems to be when Nigel's crazy-ass eyes are suggesting that yes, you should in fact have another drink.  Or another ten.  Who gives a fuck?  We'll all be dead in 50 years, party now.

And it's not just that.  Portland is on its best behavior when you're out with Nigel.  We went to a rooftop restaurant connected with the second-best hotel in town, and ate DELICIOUS food for cheap, while looking out over the city.  Without Nigel, at the actual BEST hotel in town, I ate food that you'd expect in any hotel (ie, crap), while sitting in one of those kitschy hotel bar/restaurant things while it rained outside; the only thing I wanted was to go jump off the Burnside bridge.  Instead, I ate 2nd rate crabcakes which I suspect had never even MET an actual crab.

It is worth noting that NOTHING works in Portland.  Their toilets seem to be plumbed for that sort of person that shits like a rabbit.  No toilet in Portland can handle MY business, even if all I've had to eat was a snack bar and 2 Slimfasts.  No, the fucking thing stops up and I get glares from the maintenance crew.  Well, fuck them, they knew the risks when they took the job.  Nigel seems to have no impact on the functionality of things, by the way...While I was out with her, I personally demolished two toilets in one evening, just doing my normal business.

GPSs and google maps also do not work.  Google had me making a right off of Ferguson onto Prescott.  Those streets are parallel.  At least from the viewpoint of the observer...Streets do funny things in Portland, so if you LOOK at it, you CHANGE it.  Likewise, my GPS tried to lure me out behind the hangars at PDX, and only my natural paranoia saved me from a fate worse than death.  The fucking street signs don't function properly, and they are just supposed to SIT there.  One intersection had BLANK street signs.  It got so bad that I started ignoring one way street signs, no turn signs, and other vehicles.  The good news is, I wasn't alone.  Nobody who LIVES in Portland knows where anything is, either.

On both trips, it pissed rain on me non-stop, except when Nigel and I went to dinner, but we were above the clouds (which are 12 feet off the ground in Portland).  When I got home, it took me days to shake the depression, which was only possible because of how bright and warm and dry everything is here.  Especially the second trip.  I hadn't been around Nigel, so I wasn't warmed up by her burning footprints...And althought drinking with Nolodemiel was fun, there was a dead guy at the table with us (more about that later), which made everything weird.

Portland is in fact a weird place, though.  It's official slogan is "the city that works", which is a blatant lie.  It's unofficial slogan is "keep Portland weird".  When Portlanders say that, they don't mean Tucson weird or even Providence weird.  They mean a safe weird, like coloring your hair magenta and wearing lots of leather.  Nothing wrong with that of course, but that's not the only weird they get.  The whole fucking city is haunted.  It is full of cannibal street urchins.  It is run by psychopaths who hire murderous policemen who will cheerfully shoot you in the back of the squad car and call it a righteous shoot.  The river bends space, and streets change direction without corners or curves, the moment they cross a bridge.  There are rats the size of Rottweilers, and the strip clubs and bodegas are full of zero men and their flint-eyed girlfriends.  The sun doesn't exist.  I've been above the clouds, and there is no fucking sun.  It's missing.  Earth just flies in a straight line, through a gigantic cloud of God's piss, which is why it NEVER STOPS RAINING, even when you're drinking with a ghost.

To be continued

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Oh I like this. I like this very much.

[LMNO]

Wow.

[Doktor Howl]

Oh I like this. I like this very much.

These two trips (the first trip was too short and I didn't have to drive or eat) have instilled in me a deep sense of horror.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

But it's so pretty here, and so very, very clean.

[Doktor Howl]

But it's so pretty here, and so very, very clean.

It's covered in moss and the streets are so full of blood that nobody can remember what it smells like.

[Roly Poly Oly-Garch]

That's not blood. It's sap. We're not dead. We're vegetation. You'd think the people of this city would be paranoid knowing that we're surrounded by a rainforest that could reclaim all everything in the time it takes to cross a bridge during rush hour. But we're not...because it already has. We've long since shed our primate existence, becoming carnivorous plants with very loose roots and a strong taste for bacon. This is why we eye vegans with so much mistrust. They are, in fact, cannibals.

[Doktor Howl]

That's not blood. It's sap. We're not dead. We're vegetation. You'd think the people of this city would be paranoid knowing that we're surrounded by a rainforest that could reclaim all everything in the time it takes to cross a bridge during rush hour. But we're not...because it already has. We've long since shed our primate existence, becoming carnivorous plants with very loose roots and a strong taste for bacon. This is why we eye vegans with so much mistrust. They are, in fact, cannibals.

This explains everything.

Except those fucking street signs.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I saw these things yesterday, and thought of you.

This one was the first of many detours:


Note that there were not, in fact, any "bicyclers" on the roadway. Rather, what there was was a great deal of heavy equipment and a big hole.

One of an endless number of signs in Oregon proclaiming the former locations of random semi-historical buildings that are now completely gone without a trace:


Business as usual at the crosswalks.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

"Other pursuits" is a euphemism for "whorehouse", BTW.

[Doktor Howl]

"Other pursuits" is a euphemism for "whorehouse", BTW.

Yeah. caught that.  Working on the part about drinking with a man who wasn't there.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

"Other pursuits" is a euphemism for "whorehouse", BTW.

Yeah. caught that.  Working on the part about drinking with a man who wasn't there.

That'll be interesting... He still gets to me, which is why I don't have anything to do with him.

[Eater of Clowns]

Portland is in fact a weird place, though.  It's official slogan is "the city that works", which is a blatant lie.  It's unofficial slogan is "keep Portland weird".  When Portlanders say that, they don't mean Tucson weird or even Providence weird.  They mean a safe weird, like coloring your hair magenta and wearing lots of leather.  Nothing wrong with that of course, but that's not the only weird they get.  The whole fucking city is haunted.  It is full of cannibal street urchins.  It is run by psychopaths who hire murderous policemen who will cheerfully shoot you in the back of the squad car and call it a righteous shoot.  The river bends space, and streets change direction without corners or curves, the moment they cross a bridge.  There are rats the size of Rottweilers, and the strip clubs and bodegas are full of zero men and their flint-eyed girlfriends.  The sun doesn't exist.  I've been above the clouds, and there is no fucking sun.  It's missing.  Earth just flies in a straight line, through a gigantic cloud of God's piss, which is why it NEVER STOPS RAINING, even when you're drinking with a ghost.

To be continued

This is a brilliant paragraph, man.

[East Coast Hustle]

Alot of the navigational fuckery in Portland can be easily explained by the fact that Portland has 5 cardinal directions rather than 4.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Alot of the navigational fuckery in Portland can be easily explained by the fact that Portland has 5 cardinal directions rather than 4.

This is true! I find it amusing when newcomers have absolutely no idea where they are when they're in North Portland, like it's some sort of mysterious void.

OH GOD I'VE FALLEN OFF THE MAP.