Back room at the Lucky Lab. No free beer, but there are activities, coloring and shit, and free stickers. Did I mention there was major frontloading? Because there was.

Oh dear. It’s a fucking lion’s den in here. I promptly locate Drew the Unpaid intern who is here with the sequined hat-clad Bus Project crew, and once we figure out how to work his camera we take some rad pictures of what Real Journalism looks like. Neither of us can manage to locate the pictures after we take them, much less upload them, but we’re pretty sure they’re totally impressive.

I sit down at a table, there’s colored pencils and stencils, cute kids everywhere, and am promptly joined by several friendly Jim supporters. They want to talk about the hotness poll. Did Jim win? Of course he won. Who else is hotter? Randy Leonard ain’t bad; “He’s hot in a Tony Soprano sort of way.” And “Sam adams is hot, but he’s gay, so ladies don’t like him.” Oh come on now! Scarlett Johannsen ain’t gonna fuck you, like that consideration plays into your solo after-dark meditations.

There are cute young twentysomethings next to me eating rice and zucchini out of bowls. Booorring.

I’m blogging! People want to talk to me.

“Jim biked down here tonight. That’s worthy of blogging. He’s true to his blogging roots.”

“The fleece vest is to Jim what the sweatervest is to Gordon Smith. In a good way. Brings him home to Portland. Unites him with his base.” I don’t know what that means! This table is wobbly and there are lots of beers on it, I’m a tad worried about the ol’ laptop. I keep getting introduced as “the blogger.” Thumbs up! Lots of men in plaid buttondowns. The table is dangerously teetery.

Scott Moore is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Over and out.