Only the truly competent remain on this last leg of Project Runway, meaning we are probably out of the woods as far as construction concerns go, and it's now down to matters of taste—in other words, we're in Nina's world now, and man has she pepped up. Abandoning her usual coiled cool, in which a raised eyebrow and a stern tone are about as hysterical as she gets, she's now screeching that "THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH LEOPARD PRINT! ACID COLOR LEOPARD PRINT IS A PROBLEM!" and "IT LOOKS CHEAP!!!!" while frantically looking around for confirmation from her fellow judges of the fact that cheap looking clothing is tantamount to the sky falling. Good morning, Nina, it's good to have you back.
This is also where I start to feel sorry for the designers. All of their looks are generally pretty good, with only the occasional atrocity, and so everything becomes super subjective. One thing, however, that everyone could agree on in this '70s-themed challenge, was that Joshua's plaid pants are... well okay, not the worst thing that could happen to a woman's ass and thighs, but close.
AHHHHH, indeed. No, it certainly doesn't "resignate," as Heidi points out, who apparently caught a bit of the speech impediment from totally useless guest judge Olivia Palermo, who mostly parroted what the other judges said, at one point asked "Why didn't you make a skort?"—NEVER A QUESTION THAT NEEDS TO BE ASKED—and stumbled or mispronounced every seemingly random garment-related word that tumbled out of her mouth.
My. This person sounds rather miffed.
I hope you get your eyes plucked out by insane pelicans while wild ferrets gnaw at your genitals. I hope your dreams crumble to dust and and all that you love and hope for dissolves into nothing, you fucking thief. May wild boars feast upon your intestines and vomit them back into your screaming mouth.
Good news, everybody! Science nows says doing 'shrooms will make you awesome — forever! Apparently, in a clinical study, 60% of patients exposed to psilocybin (for those of you who have never resided in Eugene, that's the "magic" in magic mushrooms) experience a significant personality shift in "openness" that's been shown, in some cases, to last a year or longer.
Says study author Roland Griffiths in this USA Today article, a professor of psychiatry and neuroscience at the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine:
"But, remarkably, this study shows that psilocybin actually changes one domain of personality that is strongly related to traits such as imagination, feeling, abstract ideas and aesthetics, and is considered a core construct underlying creativity in general," he added. "And the changes we see appear to be long-term."
Of course, Professor AwesomeDrugs requested, a bit halfheartedly, that you not try this experiment in becoming exponentially cooler and more interesting at home because "personality changes are personality changes," and also because "all the time people who use mushrooms recreationally sometimes end up getting into accidents or engage in homicidal behavior or suicide." Well, sure, but creative homicidal behavior!
So I'm just going to go ahead and call it: DO MORE DRUGS, PORTLAND. You're probably boring anyway, and being more creative might just help you land that bike messenger job you've been coveting (
BY KILLING ALL THE OTHER BIKE MESSENGERS by spiffing up your resume!).
And, hey, at least it's better than dealing.
Check out this map of the route and improvements (pdf), but the main change we'll see north of Burnside are green bike box painted at certain intersections and sharrows painted on the pavement along the route. South of Burnside, there's far more traffic (1,800-13,000 cars a day depending on the stretch) and therefore more serious changes to the road. Concrete diverters would block cars from turning onto 53rd Street from Burnside, for example, and the plan calls for the removal of 200 parking spots from 52nd Avenue between Division and Woodstock (there's currently 447 parking spots there and the city counts them as only 20 percent utilized) to make room for a bike lane.
I know this because I actually read one of Canzano's columns this week. (A column that I've since dipped into a cup of silky supple egg whites, and then rubbed all over my belly and chest.) And in the column, Canzano offers a roadmap for how regular people like me and you can selflessly intrude on the private lives of the obese to help them get in shape.
Just listen to (actually, read) how Canzano says he helped a 445-pound man shed something like 271 pounds over the past two years. (Not that Canzano's taking credit; oh no, not at all.) The man was a sports fan who chatted Canzano up one night in a parking lot and then left Canzano watching, haunted, as he very awkwardly struggled to stuff himself back inside his comically compact car.
Canzano was so horrified—and yet so magnanimous!—that he just had to do something about it. Even at the risk of coming off like a giant, meddling asshole!
It was an old Toyota Tercel. The person who had parked beside it, hadn't left him much room. A normal-size person might have been able to slip into the vehicle, but Oneill couldn't. So I watched, horrified, as he opened the passenger door, then wrestled himself across the car into the driver's seat.
I couldn't shake that disturbing sequence for days.
Branx—Toro y Moi, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Bass Drum of Death, 9 pm, $15, all ages
Doug Fir—Lovers, The Shondes, Forsorcerers, 9 pm, $8
East End—White Fang, Loose Values, Guantanamo Baywatch, 9 pm
Holocene—Apertivo Happy Hour: DJ Pretty Ugly, 5 pm, free; Snap!: Dr. Adam, Colin Jones, J. Green, 9 pm, $5
Kenton Club—Thee Headliners, Flash Flood & The Dikes, Killer Dillers, 9 pm, free
Plan B—Boats, Bloodtypes, Company, Mormon Trannys, Destroy Nate Allen, 9 pm
People, chill the fuck out. I know, I know, it's Cat Friday and this cuddly pile of fur has the single greatest mustache to ever grace the face of man or feline. Even better, "Logan" is up for adoption. Take him home today, he'd be a perfect pal for your other cat (whose fur resembles a monocle and who enjoys riding along in your motorcycle sidecar).
Come to think of it, "Logan" is a pretty lousy name for such a dignified beast. Much in the tradition of Boat Cop, I think we need to use the Blogtown comment section to think of a snappy new moniker for this gorgeous creature.
Lord Purrcy McMeowerson
Sam Elliott: The Cat
Baron Von Catknipperbocker
h/t: Shawna Gore
The first sentence of this book is literally, "There was a robot in the closet."
I know you're already looking for a Halloween costume. So I found this one for you: THOR GIRL.
I have some questions about Thor Girl:
1) I was going to ask "Is there any Marvel Universe where Thor Girl actually exists?" As it turns out, THERE ACTUALLY IS! So here's my backup question: Why does Thor Girl exist?
2) Is there any superhero name in the world worse than "Thor Girl"? For example, is anyone named "Spider-Man Girl"? (By the way, Wm. Steven Humphrey is actually the secret identity of "Wm. Steven Humphrey Girl.")
3) Is a hammer really the best choice for Thor Girl? After all, Thor Man already carries one. How about a nail gun or a leaf blower?
4) Here's a riddle: What did Thor Girl (who has a speech impediment for the purposes of this joke) say after having sex with Thor Man? "Dude, I'm tho Thor, I can't even take a pith!"
That concludes my questions.
KRS-One isn't one to shy away from his, um, unique political views—the only thing crazier than 9/11 being an inside job is rapping with R.E.M.—so it's not too surprising that the influential emcee is making the rounds in support of the dopest of Republican Presidential candidates... Ron Paul.
You thought I was going to say Herman Cain, didn't you? Racist.
KRS-One is headlining The Ron Paul R3volution Tour—which is a shameful title since any man born in 1935 (!) should never have to revert to the same EXTREME rules that only seem to apply to Fast & Furious sequels—which will swing by the Mt. Tabor Theater on October 16th. In politically volatile times like now, it's important to remember the famous words Gill Scott-Heron said: tH3 R3volution W1LL n0t B t3l3v1s3d, V0t3 r0n P4ul!
End Hits: Woop-woop! That's the sound of da secret police! Woop-woop! That's the sound of the income tax beast!
It seems like Portugal. The Man are well on their way to greatness, which will come as a surprise to no one. Now labelmates with both Phil Collins and Cody Simpson (eeeeeeeeee!), their Atlantic Records debut In the Mountain In the Cloud has become a constant fixture on the FM airwaves, and the band just joined ranks with Team Coco by appearing on Conan last night. The band blazed through "So American" and looked pretty damn dapper doing it—the bright lights of not-quite-network TV suit them.
The only thing that would make this performance better is an appearance by the Masturbating Bear.
Hopes were high the ban—called an "alcohol impact area"—would be ready sometime this fall. That is no longer the case. The Oregon Liquor Control Commission, which must also approve and would oversee any ban, now says approval of the ban may not come until next spring. And as OLCC brass hinted in December when they tentatively blessed the idea, the final ban may look a bit different than what the city presented.
More of the city might be swept up inside the forbidden zone, as in Lloyd, Northwest, etc. That's probably smart if you really want to choke off the market for street drinkers, but it might enrage more Portlanders who suddenly find they can't buy their preferred six-packs of 16-ounce cans (insert brand here). So it's probably a good thing, then, that officials—to avert heavy pressure from grocery and liquor interests—might rethink how products are banned. Instead of targeting all tallboys, for instance, a ban might only include the specific brands of hooch known to mess the most people up.
"It's still coalescing," says Christie Scott, spokeswoman for OLCC.
OLCC staffers have yet to brief industry officials on what they might be crafting. Instead, they have spent the past several months going back and forth with the city over the key data points—arrests, locations of arrests, and alcohol sales—that underpin the city's sweeping request. Scott says that because this is the first such AIA proposed in Oregon, officials "it's taking a little bit more time" to get it right.
What's the city think of all this? Beats me. Theresa Marchetti, running point on the AIA for Amanda Fritz's Office of Neighborhood Involvement, hasn't returned several calls this week.
Taking a cue from the B Sharps (that joke never gets old), Stephen Malkmus and his band of Jicks took to a sort-of apocalyptic looking rooftop in New York City to play for Pitchfork's "Don't Look Down" series. They played a batch of songs from the great new Mirror Traffic, including the tune above, "Tiger." Guitarist Mike Clark did some acrobatic stunt work as well, climbing up onto some kind of large frame structure thingy and playing his part from up there.
End Hits: Oh god, don't fall... pleasepleaseplease don't fall...
SNAP!—The monthly night celebrating the best in '90s dance jams, Snap!, is back, featuring a floor-burning cover song performance from Purple & Green's J. Green and $3 drink specials all night long, because two things make the dancing go down easy: nostalgia and booze! MS
w/Colin Jones, Doc Adam; Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison, 9 pm, $5
FREAK ON—Chaz Bundick is a puppetmaster of a huge range of dancing, bouncing sounds. You know him better as Toro y Moi, your one-stop shop for future jamz and retro '80s synths, all squelching along for a funky, freaky dance party. Don't miss Unknown Mortal Orchestra, with tightly coiled funk-psych and a flamboyant live show (guitar heroics! Capes, sometimes!) that you don't want to miss. NL
w/Bass Drum of Death; Branx, 320 SE 2nd, 9 pm, $15, all ages
See that weird bulky box that's sitting in the corner of your living room? That's what your grandparents watch "TV" on—instead of the computer screen you're looking at now, where practically everybody else watches their daily dose of TV. And while the idea of "people are watching more television on their computers" used to be anecdotal evidence—the evidence is getting a little less anecdotal-y. Vulture has this fun article about the ratings needed to make a "hit" today as opposed to five or ten years ago. For example...
9.2 million: Viewers it takes to get picked up [in 2011], this time for New Girl.
9.2 million: Viewers who watched Who Wants to Marry My Dad? on August 4, 2003.
9.8 million: What landed My So-Called Life in the bottom 10 for its entire run, before it was canceled.
Gay or bi—because you're not crazy.
Do you know what the religious right calls a man who experiences "homosexual arousal" but lies about it? Ex-gay.
Ex-gays aren't straight. They're just gay and bi men who've gone back into the closet. The whole thing is a scam—a hateful, soul-destroying scam.
A cat completely freaks the fuck out upon seeing a little girl, screaming over and over again, "NONONONONONONO!"
Okay, now let's play "Guess the Cat's Trauma!" In the comments below, try to guess WHY this cat is so freaked out by the little girl.
(My guess? The little girl is actually Keyser Söze, the man who ripped the ears off this particular cat. He did so because some cat mafia thugs tried to steal his business and murder his family. Instead, Söze killed his own family and every cat thug in the room except this one. Then he ripped the cat's ears off, but let him live so he would go back and tell the rest of the cat mafia—and the world—what he had witnessed that fateful day. Okay, that's just a guess.)
Hey, look! It's based on a book, it's about 9/11, and it stars Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock! Must be Oscar time again:
The problem with adaptations of books narrated by children is this: When you're reading a book, you can forgive a precocious narrator because you're effectively telling the story to yourself. We all secretly believe we were precocious children. But we hate other people's precocious children, so when you make a movie about precocious children, you have to convince the audience not to hate the child first. That can be an insurmountable goal.
So much for authority figures on Segways. The Portland Police Bureau is about to step it up a notch — well, in a year. For a summer.
Meet the Micro-Cycle, the robocop-esque electric crotch rocket of the future!
PPB has signed a lease with local auto biz Ryno Motors to test out two of their spiffy, one-wheeled rides next year for a mere $1 each. The current prototype goes for $4,200 on the market. The electric micro-cycle (the name takes me back to fourth grade) can reach top speeds of 20 miles an hour and boasts a range of 30 miles. With a high-powered charger, the vehicle can power up in an hour and a half.
Ryno Motors created these electric vehicles with a seemingly undefined rider in mind. The lease with PPB, “validates the bike as being rugged and reliable and seen as having a useful purpose,” says Ryno CEO Christopher Hoffmann, according to Sustainable Business Oregon.
And the cops who've already had a sneak peek are pleased. “The most important thing for them is that when you stop, you put your feet down,” says Hoffman. Makes me wonder how cops stop on their bikes or motorcycles currently.
But — the futuristic fun doesn't stop here! The Sustainable Business Oregon article goes on to illustrate the wonders of this EV unicycle. I feel like a list would do them justice:
- The micro-cycle will be "the ride of choice by musician-cum-actress" Carrie Brownstein in an upcoming episode of Portlandia AND will be featured in a patent office scene in Portland's Leverage
- The micro-cycle design was inspired by a child’s video game
- Micro-cycle riders are at eye-level in conversation (this is creepy to me, maybe it's just the wording)
- This bad boy can be fueled by a laptop charger
Alright. I'll let the rest speak for itself. Prepare yourself, Portland.
When you mess with the U.S., you die like the rest! Yay jingoism! A drone strike has killed the imam in charge of, perhaps, the most important branch of Al-Qaida—Al-Qaida in Yemen—now that Osama bin Laden is dead. Anwar Al-Awlaki, believed to be tied to the Fort Hood, Texas, shooting massacre as well as plans to blow up an airliner over Christmas 2009, was also an American citizen, which is a bit sticky for the CIA.
Still foundering amid desperation masquerading as hope, Barack Obama's re-election campaign is peddling the notion that it can win a narrow victory next year by forgoing traditional bellwether states like Ohio and Florida and Wisconsin and targeting, instead, hillbilly states like North Carolina and Georgia and Arizona that are drawing increasing numbers of college graduates and non-whites.
Ask. Tell. Even say "I do." The Pentagon has given military chaplains permission to marry same-sex couples, provided the law and the chaplain's own personal beliefs don't get in the way of such a transaction.
Your bank is probably one of the asshole banks charging you for the privilege of conveniently spending your own money via a debit card, the very same money they would panic over if we suddenly, and en masse, withdrew it and deposited it somewhere else. Like our stained, springy mattresses.
Catering to the classy types who piss away their hopes and dreams and rent money, etc., at Atlantic City's palatial casinos, the Trump Taj Mahal, in a special promotion, is giving away $25,000 worth of plastic surgery to one lucky card-game player.
This script is getting very old. Another young Muslim man is arrested on terrorism-related charges after he's approached, solicited, coached, and then armed exclusively by FBI agents pretending to work on behalf of Al-Qaida.
Russia's pretend president says reinstalling Vladimir Putin atop one of the world's largest petro-economies, pretty much for as long as he wants, is somehow the same as renewing Russia's government.
A two-faced cat, aka the spawn of Satan and Hecate and Jesus and Tom from Tom and Jerry, has set a Guinness record for managing to somehow not be burned alive as an unholy abomination over the past 12 years.
Also! Nic Cage isn't the only Hollywood vampire! Because Photoshop doesn't exist, and because no one has ever retouched a photograph in history, this creepy picture of a John Travolta doppelganger from 1860 must be totally real and not fake or nothing.
DID YOU SEE THIS BEAR CLEANING OUT A PIZZERIA IN A HICK PART OF BRITISH COLUMBIA? HE MUST LOVE PIZZA SLICES SO MUCH! OMIGOD I BET HE WOULD GO, LIKE, APESHIT IF HE EVER WALKED TO NEW YORK CITY! DON'T YOU AGREE?
Another year, another birthday party for Elvis! I'm speaking, of course, of Portland institution John "Elvis" Schroder, known around town as "Downtown Elvis" for being one of the most... um... eyebrow raising Elvis impersonators you'll ever see. (Although between you and me, I think he's slowing down his performance schedule. I have only seen him twice since the Mercury office made its move to a building that practically sits on top of the Skidmore Fountain.)
Elvis' tight bros at BarFly are throwing him quite the shindig on Wednesday (Oct 5)—they've even arranged for him to get a makeover from Heads High Barbershop's Josh Poole for the occasion. The main event will go down at Star Theater with Advisory, "supergroup" Hog Wild (members of Freak Show Rodeo, Diamond Tuck, Popewyrm, and Richmond Fontaine), Frank Furter and the Hot Dogs, The Leaders, and Holy Children.
Elvis will be guesting with both acts and running what is sure to be a fascinating trivia contest, Jen Lane of BarFly will emcee and DJ, and naturally both cake and Voodoo Doughnuts will be served. And it's FREE (21+) but donations to Elvis' "Disneyland fund" will be accepted. I do not think that is a euphemism.
Of all the emcees and rhymers to make Portland the home where they hang their New Era 59Fifty hats, Cloudy October is our favorite. His accelerated flow and avant arrangements make the man known as Genkai Yokomura stand out from the pack, and his The Aviator Is Dead made our list of top recordings from 2010.
Cloudy is now set to release his latest work, The Metal Jerk LP, on October 18 and you can download its first single, the swagger-heavy "Play," right here. In fact, true to tradition, he'll be offering up The Metal Jerk as a free downloaded, but for now you'll have to settle for its energetic lead single.
On "Play" the sharp-tongued emcee isn't afraid to boast as he calls out other rhymers when he declares "Our ears are not dumping ground for your bad ideas," and then later adds, "You can't spell 'rhyme' without 'me,' folks." It's true, you can't. I looked it up. On the internet.
Cloudy October - "Play"
End Hits: Listen up gardeners, ya'll bitches can't spell "thyme" without "me," folks.
This week, City Council approved a $20,000 settlement to Portlander James Golleher, who broke his elbow after crashing his bike on a sewer cover (right) that had sunken below the street grade out on SE 78th and Henderson.
City Attorney David Landrum explains that these type of sewer caps settle down into the street surface over time. It had been decades since the city had repaved the outer Southeast street of the offending sewer cap, so it had sunk down several inches to become a dangerous pothole.
A study from OHSU last year found that poor roadways were responsible for 20 percent of crashes in Portland.
"We don't have a systematic street inspection program to look for potholes," says Landrum. Instead, the city relies on citizens calling in street problems. That's kind of sad, but if you see any kind of road problem, report it at 503-823-BUMP before someone else breaks an elbow.
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