I Heard a Mouse Fart

It is fairly common knowledge that Portland is one of the Country’s darlings of coffee culture. Aside from the roasters themselves, it is the establishments that give the art of drinking coffee an actual pulse, something to do to feel purposeful. They are the key ingredient in the age old tradition of “meeting up for coffee.” I’ll admit that after working a Starbucks for many years and in a way being forced to observe the interactions of the customers I grew to hate going out for a cup of coffee. Mostly to feel like I was not doing work related things after work but also because I came to a few realizations and one is that coffee shops have become less about meeting up and more of a haven for people too poor to afford their own internet, students who obviously cannot concentrate at home, unhappy husbands who cannot wait to get out of the house in morning to read the paper or their kindle, and Mom’s who have no clue what else to do after they take the baby for a jog in the running stroller. Getting coffee had morphed into a solo adventure and due to that fact has made people who actually want to have a conversation over a cup of joe feel slightly uncomfortable.

Yesterday, my cohort and I, after both coming to the conclusion that the last place we wanted to be Sunday afternoon was a bar, opted for “getting coffee.” Our adventures stared out by taking us to Palio in Ladd’s Addition. The second we walked in I looked around and was instantly turned off by the amount of person’s totally using up a table meant for 4 just so they could check tweet some bullshit about how lame Linguistics 101 is.

We had to leave due to lack of seating and headed for Division where what seemed to be the best option was the simply named Coffee Division or Divison Coffee, I guess that shit was interchangeable. (Another stupid trend, just calling your joint “coffee” or “coffeehouse”, yes simplicity is great but in the land of 10,000 latte joints up the ante a little bit). At this place there were two seating options: one by the front door where we were to be treated to a cool breeze every time someone went outside to smoke an American Spirit or; 2 the world’s quietest room said for the sound of keyboard tapping felt that if I sat down in this room and said one word I would have been whisked away from the monestary like room of the coffee house and punished just for saying the word’s “how about this seat?” without a Mac book tucked under my arm.

We ended up going with the table by the door and I survived the crazy ominous quiet vibe despite by many desires to talk above what was obviously a universally felt comfort level of -0 disciples.  Afterwards, to pat ourselves on the back for surviving wifi hell we went to Eastburn  where 90% of the people there were with other people and only 1 laptop in sight. Now I don’t have to wonder why I gave up on going out for coffee years ago. I’ll stick with the social crowd.

Best Supporting Actor/Actress in a Cartoon Goes To…

We all know every year for Halloween kids want to dress up as Buzz Lightyear or Woody and that on Valentines day they cannot wait to give out Princess Jasmine and Sleeping Beauty Valentines. But what about the sidekicks? What about that the unsung heros of some of the best cartoon movies of years past, present and future? They deserve some credit and since it is technically awards seasaon I thought I would give a shout out to some for the most entertaining “lesser beloved” characters of the pixilated and drawn world.


Lumiere from Beauty and the Beast
Ah yes, the smarmy, French, horney, and phallic looking candlestick that oohed and awed us through “Be Our Guest.” Disney the king of anthropomorphisising objects and whatever the fuck they feel like needs to talk really hit the needle on the head in this film which I’m pretty sure is enjoying a crappy 3D revival so Disney can keep up with Walt’s spendy cryogenic freezing bills. Lumiere a former servant turned waxy wick nonchalantly shuts up his overbearing buddy Clocksworth and tries to get up the skirt of the featherduster.  Yet another fine example of Disney inadvertently bringing a cock reference into the picture. Lumiere you can be my guest any day.


Big Baby from Toy Story 3
The quiet giant. Big Baby was “the thug,” “the muscle,” the goon set to do Lotso’s bidding while silently crying on the inside, mostly because its blinky eye did not work anymore. A fairly minor character in this gem of a movie, Big Baby was the strong, silent type, unable to talk because well, its (she) a baby. Big Baby is pretty much shat on the whole movie, forced to room the halls of the worlds seediest day care without clothes, legs covered in magic marker, ridden with sadness over past events but in the end Big Baby throws the gauntlet down and pretty much says, “fuck you bear! I aint doing shit for your pink, fluffy mean ass ever again!” It was totally empowering and while I know the main messages of Toy Story 3 were like friendship, and letting go and blah blah blah…I think Big Baby’s message was great..throw your boss in the dumpster.


Heimlich from A Bug’s Life
It was a close toss up between Heimlich the obese catipillar, and Francis the ladybug voiced brilliantly by Dennis Leary but in the end I could not resist the cartoon equivilant to Augustus Gloop. Heimlich is a overweight, GERMAN and completely oblivious to the impending doom around him. I can’t really pick out any great instances right now (it has been a while since I watched this one) but in the end he turns into a butterfly and claps like an idiot and its totally precious.


Scuttle from The Little Mermaid
The only seagull not to gross me out, Scuttle is the bird that Ariel goes to with all questions related to human world. Scuttle is a masterful con-artist, lying through his beak and coming up the some of the best names and uses for things that have boring names and uses. Who could forget the “dinglehopper” (Don’t act like you never tried to comb your hair with a fork). I only wished that he had more screen time so he could have dazzled us with more interesting uses for everyday objects. Hey I could have helped! Try this Demasculinater (Hawaiian shirt) it turns you into Magnum PI! Okay I guess I should not quit my day job and leave the theatrics and horrible singing to Scuttle.

What Do You Mean Hot Dogs Are Gross?

If any of you watch 30 Rock you might be familiar with an episode where Liz Lemon publishes a book called “Deal Breakers,” a book explaining all of the things a potential mate should NOT be when expecting to shack up with a special lady. In the case of Liz Lemon, her deal breakers were on the eccentric side. After talking with the ladies in my life I have decided to dedicate a blog to some “Deal Breakers” all you swinging single men (or maybe not)  need to take a few hints on. Don’t worry it’s a short list…


(DISCLAIMER: This is seriously a collective and may not necessarily be the true feelings of the author…but probably)


1) You have an ID card…not a Drivers License. Can you really not be bothered to learn how to drive? If you can drive and still only have an ID card I will question your DUI history.
2) Coke pinky nail. I don’t care if it’s for guitar picking or nose picking. Long nails on a dude are nasty. Just put the coke on a hookers boob like everyone else.
3) You still think spagettios with chopped up hot dog is an outstanding meal.
4) You don’t know how to chop firewood. Nothing emasculates a man quite like a lack of proper outdoor skills. Axe practice dude.
5) You’re not paying for dinner and here is why you should:


Cost of a Man to be fully groomed and clothed Monthly (average)
• Nice shirt and pair of pants -$50-80
• Haircut -$20
• Package o’ underwear (3 pack)  -$10
• Deoderant/whatever gross cologne you just sprayed $10
• Misc crap (vitamins, hair goop etc.) $ 50 
TOTAL: $160-200 (high end)


Cost of a Woman to be fully groomed and clothed Monthly (average)
• Hair cut and color -$50-150
• Bra that actually works -$30-50
• Nice shirt and pair of pants (that take FOREVER to find) $ 80-120
• Foundation -$10-15
• Power -$10-15
• Mascara and/or eyeshadow -$15-20
• Period shit -$10
• Misc crap (hair products etc.)  $50-100
• Non creepy individual underwear because those prepacked ones are for teens
 (3) $-30 TOTAL :$ $450-500(high end)


*Yes I realize that woman don’t get the essentials every month, this chart is merely to emphasize that if you want us looking foxy sometimes you are going to have to throw down on that hamburger and beer.

That is a Fine Cup of Coffee!

My first job was at a record store. I know how High Fidelity of me. It was also a coffee/chocolate/malt/sandwich joint and it was a great job to have as a 16 year old. I worked with an older girl (late 20’s) who was eccentric and I often see glimmers of her style and face in what is now current day Portland. She was really into “the Davids”, Cronenberg and Lynch and was first to introduce me to the magic that is Wild at Heart. Another Lynch creation she talked about fondly was Twin Peaks, the now infamous cult show on CBS that ran for just two seasons, cancelled despite the protest of many fans a la Arrested development style.

This month, after many years of passing it by and saying “one day”, I rented the whole Twin Peaks series. It was everything that I knew to expect, part murder mystery, sci-fi, surreal, soap opera, comedy thing. Am I now a Twin Peaks fanatic? No but I did enjoy  many elements  of the show and was very engrossed a majority of the time and in many ways I agree with what David Lynch said himself when the shows rating were faltering, “We should have never solved Laura Palmer’s murder.”

For those of you who don’t know the plot (I’ll TRY to be brief) Twin Peaks, a logging community in Washington, is thrown into havoc when the prom queen washes ashore in a plastic. An unconventional FBI agent comes to town to help the local sheriff’s solve the murder and through the investigation we (the viewers) get wrapped up in the lives and drama of all the other residents of Twin Peaks. I thought this plot device worked well. I really enjoy when all the characters motivations are centered around a main character who is dead and/missing, the un-main-character if you will.

The music was unique, part sweeping Douglas Sirk Melodrama, part jazz club and often certain characters would be synced up with certain music adding to their persona and general development within the story arc. One of the shinning characters is Dale Cooper, the FBI agent whose eccentric  methods lead him to clues as well as deep into the drama of the Twin Peaks Community.

In the episode 16 we finally know who killed the un-main-character. The next few  episodes were hard to get through as the thing that was driving everyone to act loony was now gone. However, it began to pick up speed again with the introduction of a co-called villain (a man from Dale Cooper’s past) and I was quite upset when the final episode left one hell of a cliff hanger that will never be resolved. A movie(Fire Walk With Me) was made after the shows cancellation but rather than close up the gaping plot whole left at the end of the series, Lynch opted for a prequel to the Laura Palmer plot line, focusing on the events the week before her murder. I plan to make this my next rental.

There never seems to be true fairness when it comes to the decision a cancel a show. TV execs go straight to the obvious source, the ratings. Creators of the shows in jeopardy are prone to blame time slots, and what other shows they are paired with in those day/time slots. Fridays tend to be where shows go to die and 10pm is just a hair too late for many. The Neilson ratings have dictated the lives of television shows for a long time now and I like many I know have always questioned just how and where the fuck they are getting there info anyway? According to their website they are the industry leader in “measurement science”( whatever the hell that is, sounds totes made up) but what they don’t take into account is that many people don’t plan their schedules around TV shows. Just because I’m not watching it at its regularly scheduled time slot does not mean that I don’t like it or will go back and watch it later. I really enjoyed Pushing Daises but I was not going to stop my life to be home at whatever the fuck time on whatever the fuck day.

It is too bad Twin Peaks got cancelled but that we have been subjected to 9 seasons of Two and a Half Men, or that we only got to enjoy the Bleuth Family for 3 seasons but got 11 seasons of 7^th Heaven.

It’s a cruel cruel world in television. Thank god for HBO J

Hallie Not Fooled By “Dreamy” Romney Boys

Its election year and with it comes a barrage of distasteful campaign commercials. But what has truly come as a shock to many is what Republican candidate hopeful Mitt Romney has done is order to sway the American people his way. I sat down with Mitt Romney to discuss his upcoming campaign strategy.

Me( In the style of James Lipton) : Mr. Romney, first there were the “The Hardy Boys”, the “The Backstreet Boys”, “The Boyz in the Hood”, now we have the “The Romney Boys.”

MR:  Yes, I am very proud of my children and the attention that their wholesome looks have added to my chances of winning the presidency.

Me: Your eldest, Tagg is it?

MR: Yes.

Me:  Yes and what the fuck exactly were you thinking when you named him? Tagg is quite an awful name.

MR: It was the nickname of Joseph Smith, the founder of my religion.

Me: Yes, I see…and where did you get this information from?

MR:  I read it…in a book that is in a language only us Romneys’ can understand.

Me: And your other son, Craig...did your wife ever have an affair? Big fan of those Persian night clubs?

MR: Not that I know of.

Me: yes a women’s vagina carries many secrets, perhaps one day we will unlock the mystery of how Craig looks nothing like you.

MR: Now see here I think-

Me: Lets talk about your new campaign commercial starring your sons.

MR: Okay.

Me: I see a great deal of inspiration from Top Gun.

MR: yes, I’m a big fan of that volleyball scene and thought, why not have my sons reenact that? Really get those less than active single ladies of the Midwest to fall in love with politics, I want the excitement of the volleyball court to be a metaphor for the excitement of a new America with Mitt Romney as President!

Me:  Are you aware of the theories that that scene is brimming over with homoerotic undertones?

MR: I just want the people of America to fall in love with the Romneys.

Me: Really? ALL the people? Even “the gays?”

MR: Well everyone except them.

Me:  I read in another article that you describe your sons as the following:  Tagg is the “smart one,” Matt is the “cool one,” Josh is the “dreamy one” and Craig is the “funny one.”

MR: Yes, I also plan to have dolls of them coming out in late Summer, you know to really capitalize on the Twihard voters.

Me: Some might call this shameful peddling of your family to win votes as desperate, a way to draw attention away from your less than admirable features, like the whole Mormon thing, or the whole “anti-abortion” thing.

MR: I try to ignore those stories, really focus on making my boys the focus rather than my political agenda.

Me: Well good luck Mr. Romney.

MR: Thank you, and please enjoy this complimentary copy of Tiger Beat with Josh on the cover in only a polo shirt and non-pleated slacks!

The Calendar's Evil Stepsister

January blows. It’s all dark and gloomy n’ shit, everyone feels all fat and bloated from eating and drinking themselves stupid for the most part of November and December and as if Christmas decorations were not bad enough, Valentine’s Day chocolate starts popping up everywhere you turn. Below are three things one should attempt/czek out  to make January a little less sucky.

1)      Go see The Artist.  Obviously if you are one of those whiny people that don’t like to “read” during movies, or bitch about “old black and white” then stop reading and go re-watch Judge Dread or Big Momma’s House or some other awful uncultured shit.  The Artist is both an homage to silent films and the genre itself. French actor Jean Dujardin (Of OSS 117: Think the French’s equivalent to Maxwell Smart but crasser) shines as a popular silent film actor, in the style of Douglas Fairbanks, too full of pride to make the transition into talkies. His uses his facial features and body movement brilliantly to capture the sometimes hammyness of swashbuckling adventure films of the 20’s, but also the desperateness of a man plagued by failure. He is perfect. On Charlie Rose last night he was asked if he would consider coming over to the Hollywood side of things like some other French actors have. Unfortunately, Dujardin struggles with English and will probably remain a purely French treasure for some time. Go see the artist to feel nostalgic, to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, to truly appreciate what entertainment was like for generations before us.

2)      Go to some divey ass bowling alleys.  What the 80’s did for Wall Street business dudes the 70’s did for bowling Alleys. I feel like any time I walk into a bowling alley it’s like walking into 1975 (except for Grand Central Bowl, which is like walking into an overpriced German discotheque).  Bowling alleys are comforting, they make cool echo sounds and the characters walking around the place are trinkets of short story gold. This past weekend I discovered the “interesting” charm of Milwaukie Bowl. I think my favorite part aside from the candy cane colored seats was that you got your beer from the same guy that gives you your shows. The taps are just right there. Instead of a lounge there is a Game Room which makes sense since this place is apparently the only cool place to go on a Friday night when you are under 21. It was small and all of the families emptied out around 9 leaving my party of hooligans to curse a little bit more loudly and watch you tube videos of crazy people pooping in public places (caught on tape!). The whole experience was relatively cheap mostly because I think the bored looking young man behind the counter was probably too busy texting. So if you ever happen to be in that area, check it out cause you can probably do worst (cough* Interstate Bowl cough*).

3)Write a letter. I know I probably sound like your Grandma right now but through writing some letters in the past few weeks I have come to realize that you end up saying some things that are truly from the depths of your mind and that are awesome. It’s a great way to keep your mind sharp, plus it is fun to feel nostalgic for those days of passing notes in High School.  Draw some doodles in the corner too, or instead of writing out what happened to you or how you are feeling, draw a cartoon of it. Even if it is only stick men, things are always funnier with stick men.

Sex in the City Simplified

Last night was the debut in what I have come to terms with is the trashiest yet addictive show on network TV. Yes that is right, The Bachelor. You must be thinking, wow Hallie, that is really fuckin’ sad, but ya know what? It is totes not, especially when you watch it with four of your other wine guzzling friends and the comments start flying at the sad sack female contenders faster than rotten cabbage at Andrew Dice Clay.  While I am fully aware that we are perpetuating the female stereotype of “girls hatin’ on other girls,” the comments that we make are well deserved as the contestants are all (well except for a few) horrible examples of female empowerment, sanity, reasoning etc. and frankly nothing makes you feel better than realizing and vocalizing that you are glad you are the farthest thing from “hammerhead shark girl” or “SJP (Sarah Jessica Parker) wannabe” of that “fuckin’ lunatic with the tropical throw up dress.”

Last night, as me and my female cohorts gawked at the bevy of single ladies vying for the affection of “Ben F.” I could not help but be saddened  by the realization that there appears to be  ladies blogging (one of the contestants on the Bachelor) out there in an attempt to live or inhabit the ol’ “Sex and the City” lifestyle, freelance writing about all their dating triumphs and tribulations and for the most part probably just sounding really whiney, over analyzing everything and in general ignoring brevity in an attempt to help understand men, when really it comes down to three simple things and we can ignore SJP blog impersonators all together:

1)   

   Men are obsessed with 2 things: Their dick and their youth. They will stop at nothing to fulfill the biding of their trouser snake and their unreasonable quest to stop the aging process whether that be through buying convertibles, taking drugs to make sure their trouser snake works or dumping their sig others to pursue physical activities which will never be as satisfying as having a sig other.

2)     

If a man attempts to share his real feelings or communicate effectively, his dick will explode, and because a man is loyal to only his dick, he will never share his feelings.

3)    

Commitment is like whiskey, it kills his boner, therefore he will never commit.

Ta da! And there you have it ladies…so stop trying to be like Carrie Bradshaw and go watch some Hot Messes on The Bachelor, Mondays on ABC @ 8pm.