Baby Wants Pole

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in bicycle, comedy, costume, fashion, gay, Uncategorized, women

poledancer

This grainy cel-phone pic has been passed around the internet, originating on Gizmodo.com, and comments are flying about what a bad toy it is, and how parents are outraged:

Baby Wants Pole

It’s fucking honest, is what it is. A cheerful, grinning pole dancer is the only female role model America really wants. That’s why Miley Cyrus got on on a pole at 16 at the 2009 Teen Choice Awards, and why she was cheerfully twerking on Robin Thicke’s crotch at the VMA’s in 2013.  (And don’t worry, everyone acted like they were outraged in 2009, and her Dad acted embarrassed and said “I don’t know where she learned that” and the answer was, then too,  “from her choreographer that painstakingly created the routine.”)   That’s why Britney was on a pole when she was 18 and one second. We might be living through another Republican White House if Sarah Palin had just dropped the soundbites and climbed a pole. These things don’t come from nowhere and marketing doesn’t lie.  Don’t pretend you’re shocked.  Don’t pretend to be surprised when teen idols play strippers, again and again-  Performers do what is asked of them.  Feminism has fallen down gone boom and we all need to pick it the fuck up.

For one second, think about whether you, as a person with lady parts, have ever said “It’s fun to go to the strip club an’ get attention from the dancers!”, or said “Those Suicide Girls seem pretty self-actualized, because having tattoos means you’re your own person!” and realize that you might be part of the problem. Being comfortable with your own body and sexuality has gotten confused with being porn-positive and chauvinist-friendly to an uncomfortable degree.  Moby tried to bring up how misogynist the Robin Thicke video for Blurred Lines was, and everyone shouted him down like he was an asshole.  I’m not talking about suppressing freedom of expression, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t do exactly what pleases you- I’m just saying, if you don’t like the society we’re living in, own your part in creating it.

And girls, you don’t have to let boys grind on you at a club if you don’t want them to.  You don’t have to send them nude pictures on your phone.  And for chrissakes, don’t laugh at them if they aren’t funny.

Hey! Serious for a second! That was weird, huh.

Besides, the VMA’s are where fake scandals are made.  Sacha Baron Cohen putting his balls in Eminem’s face.  Kanye cockblocking Taylor Swift.  Russell Brand joking about the Jonas Brothers.  Diana Ross grabbing lil Kim’s boob.  Madonna humping the floor.  Courtney Love dissing Madonna.  Madonna kissing Britney.  Lady Gaga wearing a meat dress.  What’s it gonna be next year?  More importantly, how long are you rubes gonna keep walking down the midway?

The Importance of Demographic Research

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in bicycle, comedy, portland, Uncategorized, vegan

I don’t know why the Oregon Beef Council would decide that Belmont, the epicenter of Southeast Portland specialness, was the perfect place to erect a billboard 10 feet off the ground reading “We love vegetarians. More meat for us!”, but it’s been tagged twice in a week, the second time with “meat is MURDER”. Everything about this, from the Smiths quote to the fury of the two remaining conservatives in the area, is hilarious. Listen, if you wanna eat your meat and drive a ridiculous tank, and you can live ANYWHERE in Oregon, why would you choose Boho Belmont or Hippie Hawthorne? It just seems self-defeating.


Postscript:  Four years later, another hilarious graffiti from Hippie Hawthorne!    I did the eyes and mouth myself.

Portland on Portlandia

Posted Leave a commentPosted in bicycle, comedy, fashion, portland

Since Portlandia aired, comedy in Portland has been dealt a blow- we can no longer make fun of precious, childhood-fetishizing, fixie-riding hipsters, our most visible attribute and most reviled population segment, because it’s been DONE, darling, and if nothing else, we want to be original.   In desperation, I have been casting about for new jokes about our beloved city- to this end, here is a list of things that have NEVER been said about Portland:

Self-starter, type-A personality workers keep stores open all hours of the day and night- you never stop by an independent store at 3PM on a Tuesday to find them closed for no adequately explained reason.

One disadvantage of Portland living:  you can’t find a coffeeshop in this town to save your life.

Everywhere you go, in every shop and residence, you can hear Dolly Parton singing “Jolene.”

Local waiststaff are frequently taken to task for being unnaturally clean and polite.

All of Portland has a crush on Zia McCabe of the Dandy Warhols, even buildings and those brass fountain otters downtown.

Portlanders are obsessed with the goods and services offered by Best Buy stores, often lining up at 6AM just to browse.

Portland is George W. Bush’s favorite weekend getaway city.  Find him walking down to Saturday Market from the Governor hotel, which he thinks he can stay at for free, because he was a Governor.

Portland drivers are passive to the extreme, and are often overtaken by wild rabbits on the highway.

Like pumping your own gas, it’s illegal to make your own breakfast on Saturday or Sunday, leading to long, hungry lines in front of every local restaurant on the weekends.

Write me with more things that have never been said about Portland, ever!

You Say You Want A Revolution-

Posted Leave a commentPosted in bicycle, portland

Every Summer, there is a visible increase in bike ridership in Portland. Every year when the Tour de France starts, there are more bikes. This year, with gas topping four-bucks-fifty, there are still even more bikes. I’m not going to dwell on the recent incidents where bikes have been used to pummel drivers, and cars have been used to pummel bikers, because I like to be more positive than that.

In general, this is a good thing- for one, for the first time since the Carter-era gas shortage, car fatalities have gone down nationally.
On the other hand, I read that bike commuters are bad for the planet, because we live longer and use more resources, and if we really loved the earth, we’d all ride scooters and smoke, like those environmental superheroes, the French, who even stopped bathing to save water. And nobody asked them to.
Despite this, I like when there are more bikes, except when it inconveniences me- like when helpful wags wave at me manically as they approach in the wrong direction in the bike lane, or when the Portland police take it upon themselves to set up “sting” operations, like the one at the traffic circle in Ladd’s Addition on Monday. (In Little Rascals style, a bike who had been stopped at the Stop Sign Which Seems Superfluous circled back to the entrance of the Addition to warn the morning bike traffic that we’d better stop for once, which was very nice.)

This morning, a new commuter pulled up and we had the following conversation:

Nice Lady: Hey, I saw that you tripped the signal at 21st and Division! I thought we had to wait for a car!
Me: Oh, no, if you see a tar circle on the ground, pull into the outer third and it should trip the signal.
Nice Lady: That’s great! How long have you been bike commuting?
Me: (Bashfully) Well, several years anyway- I just hit 9000 miles on my odometer!
Nice Lady: Oh my gosh! Well, thanks so much!
Me: Um…Excuse me, but isn’t your helmet on backwards?

Bowie vs. Prince

Posted Leave a commentPosted in bicycle, portland, vegan


I joined a Pedalpalooza event for the Bowie vs. Prince ride on Friday night. The idea is that a bike ride cruises around and occasionally stops to drink and dance to a biked sound system. I decided to express with my outfit the question, “what if the harlequin from Scary Monsters was really just a big-boned gal in a bike helmet?” The fantastic DJ Rhienna was also in attendance.

Rhienna rocks the Old Gregg leggings I sold her from this very website!

It was fun, although the music that started as very Bowie and Prince and quickly devolved to generic hip-hop, and I had hoped to see more awesome outfits. I did see 300 hipsters, 1000 cans of PBR, and about 80 helmets! There was a Screaming Lord Byron in attendance, and inexplicably, a Michael Jackson.

Strange things yelled at me on my bike:

1. Hey, do you have twenty dollars? Well, do you?

2. Hey! Your face!

3. Hi Virginia Jones! (not so strange, really)

300 people in the Safeway parking lot-like a flash mob, but more shambly and random.

We visited the bran’ spankin’ new Eastside Voodoo Doughnut, for those of us too drunk or lazy to go downtown to get one. Thank you, Jebus!

In the end, it is clear that Portland’s sympathies lie with the Thin White Duke and not the Purple One, but it was close. Prince is still the universal #1 artist that drunk girls request at parties.

Mind Explosion!

Posted Leave a commentPosted in bicycle, portland


It’s Pedalpalooza in Portland, a fortnight of bike-related events that I had forgotten about until I left Harvey’s on Saturday at midnight to be greeted by a peleton of naked bikers. The two road comics I was working with were very impressed by the display, as I commented, oh, it’s naked bike ride time again already. Craigslist Missed Connections was also pretty active the next day, although suitors had to be fairly observant about bike makes, colors, and models, since “you were naked, so was I” did not really narrow the field.