Be a man

I met up with Steve for an evening of manly things.

i.e. talking about girls and getting in fights.

The chalk board in the bathroom was, surprisingly, absent of bigoted or defaming vandalism.

Luckily this appeared by the end of the evening.

Don't be a gay

Today I got my melodica back.

Here is a panda belt buckle I am working on.

1

+ 1

= Angry gorilla belt buckle.

This on I've had for a while but didn't photograph as finished until now.

It's safe ... and shiny.

The Masons.

+ The Elks

Would equal an awesome belt buckle which I have not yet photographed.

Steve and Sarah came over for Margaritas with mint. Does that make them Margamohitos?

This weekend is "Graffiti Weekend".

What that means is:

People come from all over and drive their old cars around.

I will note that I drove my old car around all of last year an no one had a weekend for me.

Maybe it's because I didn't want to go cruising.

You can correct me if I'm wrong, but, I have always understood cruising to refer to gay men going to the park looking for hand jobs.

Is it possible that Roseburg has dedicated an entire weekend to hand jobs?

I didn't realize we were so progressive.

Assuming that is progress.

This woman had an extremely long cigarette.

And an Adams apple.

So, what all of this boils down to is: Roseburg takes one weekend a year and dedicates it to the small town gay community. And Roseburgs idea of progress is; blocking off traffic so that said gay community can drive around in circles looking for hand jobs.

I helped and added the "is".

A french fry in the sink.

Apparently we have moved on.

Here, Sarah regales us with stories about herself.

Really, the story was truly fascinating.

This is a butterfly we found while walking to my apartment to get popsicles.

Sadly, Sarah tried to squish it.

So I punched her.

Various things happened at the Idle Hour. Most notably though, was Justin's T-shirt portraying one bear asking another bear to pull his finger.

Greg has grown a mustache. I am just realizing now, in light of my realization about Roseburg's gay pride (Graffiti/cruising/hand job) weekend , why mustaches are so popular in Roseburg*, it's all secret code for "we're here, we're queer, we're undercover and looking for hand jobs..." (*Kenneth Anger: "Scorpio Rising"(1963))

Picking up where the hippies left off

Two cupcakes and and a hipster craft magazine. The breakfast of the next generation (look out you Baby Boomers', we don't care about our diets and our craft projects are much tougher than yours.)

Blythe and Chris were lovely hosts. Here is Blythe. Chris had left early in the morning for some sort of outdoor excursion.

We met up with Lexingberg, Stephenawitz and Meganstien at Portland's Jewish deli.

Here I am ready for a breakfast of gefilte fish and Manischewitz (the Manischewitz web site (where tradition is the new trend) has a page devoted to gefilte fish where they list facts, including the fact that gefilte fish is not a species of fish but a loaf of fish! Hooray!)

Troubling indeed. If I need to explain it, you wouldn't have thought the joke was funny anyway.

Woe is Steve.

We were discussing peoples willingness or un-willingness to have their pictures taken.

Is one camera more intrusive/annoying than the other.

Steve took the awsomecam to see at what point it's presence became irritating.

Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot to say about this particular sequence of pictures.

Just think of it as a dizzying adventure in outdoor breakfast.

Steve.

Megan.

Megan.

Steve again.

Gabriel.

I think this is the point at which we want it all to stop. Or at least Lexi does.

Megan's finger has started turning green from her skull ring.

Here is an avant-rock trio outside Macy's

I keep telling Megan not to take sideways pictures because it means more work for me. But does she listen...

While I have very little to say about this Thai restaurant; I like this picture of the three soup samples they brought us.

On that note, we will leave Portland