I’m going to let you all in on a little something: People cannot change their gender. No, it’s true, they can’t. At least not without killing themselves.
I know, I know, this news will really piss some of you off, but don’t shoot the messenger for I didn’t make it so.
See, gender is determined by chromosomes. If you have Y chromosomes, you’re a male, otherwise, you’re a female. You can pump yourself full of hormones, change the tone of your voice, grow your hair long, get the best fake knockers that money can buy, and chop off your wang
Continue reading Biting the Hand
A couple of weeks ago, we went to Pike Place Market to grab some food from the Market Galbee Korean place. When we got there, we were suprised to find that it was no more. In its place was a new food stand called “Pike’s Pit BBQ”.
“What is this?! I don’t like change!!”, I called out, at which point I closed my eyes and held my breath until the gods or whoever put things back the way I had grown accustomed to them. When I opened my eyes, everything was restored to its previous state, so we got
Continue reading Fresh Meat
Never mind, the wet sign lying in a puddle of dirty water tells us all we need to know about the results of this test.
Not that we needed a test to tell us anything. Seattle is a town where dogs go to daycare, people live on the streets, the Mayor wages endless war against the poor, and 80% of the residents belong to the political party that fought a war to preserve slavery.
I mean, really, brother, what did you expect?
“Not fair! That was a long time ago, Rex, the Democratic Party of today is much different
Continue reading So, How’d The Test Go?
General Porpoise Donuts
Extended adolescence. It’s all the rage these days. And instead of shaking my fist at the infantile suburban tourists who pass through Seattle on their post-collegiate staycations, I’ve finally accepted the fact that, short of hiring a few black guys to move to the neighborhood (Sticky Fingaz from Onyx “black”, not suburban-friendly Obama “black”) I can’t do anything to make them leave. That’s right, 2016 will be the year when I finally try to live in harmony with the attention-starved kidults. After all, it’s not their fault that they’re 35 year-old soul-less blank slates, void of
Continue reading Specific Dolphin
The Crocodile Cafe’s, uh, excuse me, The Crocodile’s (because “cafe” is passe’) lighting technician claimed another victim on Friday night.
Cracker had just taken the stage after opening act Camper Van Beethoven’s set, when without warning, the tech aimed not one, but two high-powered spotlights at the guitarist, instantly vaporizing him.
As the panic-stricken crowd raced for the door, front man David Lowery, summoning nearly 30 years of audience-savvy, declared “damn the set list, we must play a hit to regain control of the crowd!”, at which point, he launched into the opening bars of 1993’s “Low”.
Continue reading Camper and Cracker at The Crocodile Cafe
“I am Goliath, you are David. I am a Tractor-Trailer, you are a Yugo. I am Yoko Ono, you are the Beatles.” – things that cross ones mind when looking at this bearing down on you.
After a two-year-ish absence, Seattle’s weather has made like a post-2000 college graduate and returned home. For how long is anyone’s guess, but the next 10 days appear to be a given with rain forecast for just about every day, and heavy rain at that.
As you can see by the image posted above, we’ll be on the receiving end of an atmospheric
Continue reading Seattle’s Weather Comes Home For a Visit
For the second year in a row, overwhelmingly affluent, overwhelmingly white, overwhelmingly ex-suburban, overwhelmingly gentrifying people are threatening to ruin the Westlake tree lighting ceremony. It’s a ceremony that many kids in the city look forward to every year.
Why, do they protest this event, you may ask?
Alas, the reason is fairly obvious. As an event with a large middle and working-class attendance, disrupting it keeps the protestors far away from the ruling-class and political elite, and thus, overwhelmingly safe. It also keeps it vague, which unfortunately, is the point.
Hey, BLM folks, let me ask you
Continue reading A Coward’s Christmas Carol
This Paris thing really has legs, and if Generation Y has taught me anything, it’s that one can ill-afford to miss an opportunity to make things about themselves.
So, while I have your attention, I feel compelled to tell you that my thoughts are with the people of Paris, and this ostensibly should make the people of Paris feel better, because when I think about someone, it’s very flattering to them, and it gives them a sense of comfort that they wouldn’t have otherwise had, had I thought of, say, a gender-fluid UW student who only has two bathroom
Continue reading All Aboard!
At least I think that’s the reason the tops of so many buildings in Seattle are lit up with the colors red, white, and blue.
Then again, they’re, you know, the US colors too, so it could also represent an outburst of patriotism.
If I had to guess, though, it’s probably the French thing.
Continue reading French Solidarity