Oh Portland, My Dear Portland

I live in Portland, Oregon. It’s one of the most beautiful cities in the country... That also reeks of hobo piss. Our city is within sight of two beautiful (and one very erupty) volcanoes, or “mountains”, since we don’t like to think about molten death. Seriously though... I’m sure it’ll be fine. People ask me a lot if the show Portlandia is true. Yes. It is quite fuckin’ accurate, and then some. The then some being some shit I’m about to fill you in on.

We have a lot of strip clubs. By that I mean, more strip clubs than you have ever seen in your life. Yes, I even mean you college bar employees who save all year to forget a weekend in Vegas every summer. I happen to live a few blocks from one called “The Pitiful Princess”. It is exactly as it seems... Awesome! My first time there I saw an overweight stripper cry, and you thought Vegas was fun. We also have a few strip clubs that don’t serve alcohol. Because putting 18 year old douche-bags in a room with naked women (yes our clubs are bottomless too) with no self esteem and family issues has never, ever, led to a sex crime. Oh, and the food in the strip clubs is incredible. If you live in the Midwest (where I’m from) you have never eaten a steak this good. Ever.

We have an entire shanty town in the middle of downtown, and more homeless people than you can shake a hipster at. The homeless people all have jobs here it’s called “holding a sign”. These signs usually say something funny, or something about being a wounded veteran. I know the U.S. needs to treat its heros better, but if the amount of “wounded veterans” here is accurate... Goddamn son, we are in trouble. Most of the homeless people here are reasonably polite, and will ask you for cigarettes, food, change, or whatever you could think of. Once you tell them no they politely slink away, or more likely didn’t even bother standing up from the sidewalk they are napping on to ask you. So they slowly fade into the distance as you happily jingle your change and smile. Oh, and they all have dogs... Seriously... All of them.

There is no “hood” in Portland. There is however, a hood in Gresham, and Gresham is attached to Portland. By attached I mean that there is no discernible difference in the two cities. You are sitting at a light at 162nd and Division, you go forward through the light, and you are now in Gresham. You are also probably about to buy some crystal meth from a tranny you just met on craigslist. Gresham isn’t the only city like this, there’s also Milwaukie, Clackamas, or Vancouver, Washington... Yea that’s a thing too. See, some people who live in Portland, don’t really live in Portland. No matter what they say on Facebook, those fuckers live in Gre-Shame.  

These are just a few things you should know about my beautiful city. I love this place, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.