Any relationship is an investment. You put in energy, time, emotion, stress, effort and finances, you may give up parts of your dreams and life plans for it, but, in return, it can come to satisfy you in ways you have pre-determined you want to be satisfied, and also in ways you couldn’t have imagined. … Continue reading The New Age Paradox, Part 4: The Relationship Stock Market, and Further Reflections on My Time with a New Age Girl
In case you didn’t catch part 1 of the New Age Paradox, here’s a recap: The New Age Girl, this is what she would say: “I need you to talk about what you’re feeling. But I don’t want the whole story, about what you’re feeling. Don’t talk too much. It’s overwhelming. Tell it to me … Continue reading The New Age Paradox, Part 3: That One Guy Friend
There were a bunch of things the New Age Girl still “needed” me to do before our relationship was put on the chopping block. I started regularly going to yoga with her, which I sucked at. I started hiking the butte with her after work (at which I’d spent all day on my feet, hiking an actual mountain range, doing actual work). I’d already gone to see the therapist, like she asked...
If you’ve read my story about Uncle Huggy’s Magical World, you’d be at least subliminally aware that I’d been dating a New Age Girl for a while. And that we’d been having some problems.
I once went to apply for a job as a custodian at a porno booth house on a Friday and was told they’d already had 1,000 applicants since the job opened, which was Wednesday.
Jizz mopper. Porno booth house. 1,000 applicants in 2 days. They got like 150,000 people in this town...
I was walking down Blair Boulevard, amazed at how much the strip has changed in the last ten years—primarily from pretentious urban commodities like whiskey-fusion bars, coffee-fusion kiosks, designer beer, farm-to-table restaurants, Mexic-Ital-Yemeni fusion cuisine, Califor-Nigeri-Armenian fusion cuisine, electric tricycle showrooms, designer tacos, sushi restaurants that seat six and have no windows...
Saturday morning, early at the Birchwood, I’m startled out of sleep by the window-muted shouting outside my apartment of a female voice: “Ron! Where you at, Ron! I know you in there! If somebody don’t go and get Ron for me, I am gonna fuh-reeeak!” ...
My friend Vicki and I walked out to the mall on Friday, each got a little bit of food to eat, and then headed back home.
And we’re walking by the river, and I was like, “Oh, hey, this looks like The River House. Vicki, I wanna go in here. Come on. I’ve never been in here, I’ve lived in this town for 34 years, I wanna see what’s in here.” ...
**Note: This has to do exclusively with the visual art that is inherently found in and can be created around the viewing of an abandoned vehicle, not with the actual process of abandoning a vehicle. That's not the message being spread here...
I was over at my friend’s house the other day. He’s got a little 6 year old boy, no cuter than any kid you’ve seen 10,000 times before on Facebook, or circulating on the random smartphone at any given point in time. Just ask those dicks at the NSA...
I’d taken the bus downtown that morning, and had a couple errands to run before heading back to another episode of The-Jerry-Springer-Show-waiting-to-be-booked that was my life at home these days...
Honestly, it is baffling sometimes to see the abandon with which so many humans cross roads and jockey street gutters in and around Eugene, Oregon...
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