Best of Craigslist

Best of Craigslist http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best postings from craigslist.org, selected by readers en-us Copyright 2008, craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org webmaster@craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/ Best of Craigslist Collection 2008-04-16T10:21:50-07:00 2 daily A Sodding Good Time http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/644579316.html You need sod? Take one piece or twenty. Fill in those trouble spots on your lawn We know you have plenty. For all 100+ golfers, Carry a few in your bag. Laying some new carpet? Try this verdant shag! An excellent costume for your kid's school play. Thinning on top? Makes a stylish toupee... There's no end of mirth you can have with this earth. Come pick up some today on 9th and Killingsworth! <img src=644579316.1.jpg> <img src=644579316.2.jpg> <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: 9th and Killingsworth <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-04-16T10:21:50-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/644579316.html A Sodding Good Time text Free or Fee http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/617501011.html My First Dog was...... FREE..... And I loved her with all the love a heart could have. She was fed and cared for and excercised and played with and slept with and vetted when necessary and she lived to be 15. She was loved by a whole family and there were lots of tears when she died. My Second Dog was........FREE..... And I loved him beyond measure. He traveled with me as I moved all over the U.S. I payed pet deposites on rental houses... I spent thousands of dollars on vets when he got a rare disease. He went on dates with me.. he went to work with me... he slept by my bed, ate the best of foods... was the envy of many who stopped to say how cool he was... And I thought my heart would never ever mend when he died at age 14. My Third Dog was.... NOT FREE....I paid $20 for him and I loved him... played with him... fed him the best foods.. paid his vet bills... he slept by the bed, kept me company on long walks... and I cried till I could cry no more when he passed away at 13. My Fourth Dog was.....FREE... I picked him up lost and abandoned on the side of the freeway... I didn't need or particularly want a second dog at the time.... But I loved him... played with him.. fed him the best foods.. Paid for veterinary care and later when he had severe arthitis, spent many hundreds on suppliments to keep him comfortable till I had to have him laid to rest at 14. And I cried... and thanked God for the stranger that came to stay with us for so many years. My Fifth Dog ... My CURRENT Dog... was..... NOT FREE..... I paid $80 for him... And I love him.. and I play with him.. and I pay the vet when he needs it.. and he sleeps by my bed, and he gets the best of foods, and he follows me everywhere and I hope that we will get to love him for many more years until it's time for him to pass on and we will cry and our hearts will break and we will miss him. Somewhere in this short story of my life with dogs... And I could easily write another much longer story about my life with many, many horses... some free.. some rescued.. some paid a small price for and some paid a high price for... Somewhere in the stories... I hope is a lesson. Every animal in my care... for whatever reason it came and at whatever cost.... Got the same kind of care. They got the BEST care I could give... and sometimes... because of sacrifice.. they got better care than prudently affordable or necessary. Did it matter the price I paid for them?.... IT DID NOT!..... Nor will it ever. And I seriously doubt it matters in many other homes across the world... People either value their pets or they don't... I have seen just as many neglected pets and livestock come from "rich" homes as I have poor. It is not the money that takes care of an animal... It is the heart of the people or person they live with. The poorest person will find a way if they love enough. If you ask me... charging a high fee to "ensure a good home", is just a lazy persons way out of not feeling guilty for the fact that they do not want to take enough time to find out if the home they are selling their pet to is adequate. It's a lot easier to take someones money and tell yourself that you did the right thing, than it is to take the time to get to know someone, or to go look at their home.. or to draw up an agreement on their care with a return clause, to get references and to follow up with checks over the next days, weeks and months. To take this argument to the ridiculous.... One of my children was born when we had really great insurance and guess what?... She was ... FREE!..... My Second child, we didn't have good insurance.... She cost... ALOT!!!... I wonder if we are less of a good home for the first one?.... Maybe I should love the second one a bit more since she cost so much?... This is long... but hopefully the message is clear.... Money can buy a lot of things... and certainly you should ask prospective homes if they can afford the upkeep of a pet... even go as far as to list out some of the expenses....But take the time to make sure you are finding a good home... don't use making money as a cop-out to get out of your responsibilities. You may find... that the most loving thing you can do for your pet is to place him in a home for.... Free... I will give you a flip side to the situation... when you need to rehome your pet... when you are "desperately seeking good home asap"... Letting someone "rescue" you from your situation... can give them a sense of pride for doing something good for both animal and human... that is a value that is much greater than money and may in the end go the farthest towards giving your pet a great life. Thank you for reading this.. I hope it is taken in good spirit and gives another point of view on the subject of "rehoming fees"... God Bless <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul> webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-03-24T18:16:59-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/617501011.html Free or Fee text RAVE: A Mother's unconditional love... http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/595286607.html ...changed my life. It was a couple of days before Christmas and I was shopping at the Vancouver Costco. I couldn't help but notice how "un-Christmas" the atmosphere was...parents yelling at their kids to hurry up and don't touch this or that...or worse, some kids were just being ignored and crying for attention. Civilized adults being rude to each other...and I remember thinking how pitiful it all was. I was in the store looking for a Wii - somebody told me they might be available there. I asked a clerk who very nicely told me I was out of luck - see I only had a vague idea of what a Wii is and no idea of how popular they were - making them scarce. Another Costco "customer" heard me ask and after the cleck left he approached me and offered to sell me one - for $500. After talking to this "gentleman" - it turns out he somehow managed to buy 10 or so units (not sure if they were from Costco or not) and was just hanging out at Costco to find people looking for these games so he could sell them one. He actually said things like "you'd better do this because I am your only hope" and "your kids will hate you if they don't have a Wii on Christmas morning." I suddenly felt really sad because I know for some people he was telling the truth. On my way out I decided to get a Costco hotdog special. That's when I got the Christmas Spirit again. I was just looking around at all the people hustling, bustling, ignoring, yelling, pushing, shoving and then I saw her and her little boy. At first, I didn't take it all in - all I noticed was this woman's happy smile. And then I noticed her son was handicapped. He couldn't sit up by himself very well. He couldn't eat by himself and when he had food in his mouth, it would come back out. But at first glance you wouldn't know it. This Mom was using one hand to hold him up. She was breaking his food into small bits and feeding it to him and wiping his mouth every few seconds. She did this while she was eating her own lunch, whispering conversation to him and gently kissing his head now and then - and smiling both full of happiness and pride the whole time. I found that amazing especially in contrast with what was surrounding them. They were most definitely in their own peaceful and loving world. I watched them for a few minutes and reluctantly went on my way. Her love and peace had touched me, but I knew if I stayed longer and watched, they may have spotted me watching them and it could have made them uncomfortable or somehow taken away from their time there. Now it's just over 2 months later and this is still on my mind - as it is everyday. I am more thankful for my kids and I am more at peace and more accepting of things when they don't work out the way I want. I try hard to be more gentle and kind towards others. I want to smile the way I saw this woman smile. I want that peace and contentment. I want to be able to love unconditionally. I have heard that before - but it doesn't really have meaning until you see it. It's a 100 million to one chance that the person who I am talking about sees this, but I need to say thank you. I want you to know that you made a difference in my life. Thank you.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Costco Vancouver <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-03-04T10:00:57-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/595286607.html RAVE: A Mother's unconditional love... text Free: Lazy Boyfriend, Slightly Used http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/594355434.html Free: One slightly used boyfriend. Sleeping right now, and for the past 18 hours, after staying out with his pals the night before until 4 am. I don't think he really wants to keep his job much longer, either. U haul. First one here gets him. He'll be out on the curb. Enjoy! Note: Photo is for illustrative purposes only. <img src="594355434.jpg">  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-03-03T12:43:39-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/594355434.html Free: Lazy Boyfriend, Slightly Used text From Your Friendly Neighborhood Barista http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/585805652.html I've been in the coffee business for awhile now. I worked for three years while I was in high school, and now that I'm 400 miles away and a junior in college, I work at another coffee shop. In general, I keep a smile on my face and an upbeat attitude, but after a particularly long day at work, I feel I need to rant and rave about proper coffee etiquette for those of you who need your caffeine fix. Okay, here goes. First of all, I am one of the fastest barista's in the company. I can take your huge order from you and whip them out in record time without making a mistake. But when you choose to pull up, already having seen the long line on both sides of my window, please don't tell me that you're in a hurry and I need to make your drink FAST. This will just make me move slower, because, what kind of idiot stops to get coffee when you're running late? Having said that I am super fast, I am human, however, and do make mistakes on occasion. I know it was my fault, and if you come back I will be more than happy to remake it for you and offer you a second drink. But if you act like a dick that I accidentally gave you sugar free caramel in the 16oz instead of the 12oz, then that's just going to piss me off. Maybe if you hadn't rapid-fired your 7 drinks at me, then rolled your window up, I wouldn't mix things up. Speaking of ordering 7 drinks... no big deal. But when you rack up a $28 tab, and don't leave a tip, that's just rude. It's even more rude when your company pays for your tab, and you still don't leave a tip. Would you spend $30 at a restaurant and not leave a tip? You would? Oh, well fuck you then. Although appreciated, I don't expect a tip every time, nor do I think it's necessary. I work in a college town, I understand where you're coming from and don't expect you to tip me. When I worked at my first job, I worked in a ritzy part of town. People would drive through in a new Cayman or XJ8 and not tip. You can't afford it. Right. Speaking of my first job, the owners were the prime example of how NOT to run a business. When you're too cheap to pay us every other week, and switch to once a month... PLEASE make sure you pay us ON TIME. Not 5 days late. Consistently. That's just unacceptable. And I'm sure you're also aware that we aren't Starbucks. Our 20oz drinks aren't called a "venti," so when your wife strolls in asking for a "venti" something, I want to shoot her. She's an idiot. I consider myself well-educated... or at least in the process of getting smarter. Please don't talk down to me because I am a barista. To be honest, I don't need this job. My college education, rent and everything else is paid for and working here just gives me extra cash and I do it for the social interaction. I probably have less debt than you, so don't treat me like I'm stupid. Please don't have your wife order from the passengers seat... I know you know nothing about coffee and you think you'll sound like an ass having her repeat things to you for you to tell to me, but the truth is I feel like the ass when I'm constantly having to ask "I'm sorry, what did she say?" numerous times because she's so damn quiet. SPEAK UP. Both of you. It's cold. It's raining. I know you don't want to get wet or whatever, but when I'm actively communicating with you about your drink, stop rolling your window up. My drive-through windows are open so I can help YOU, I'm freezing my ass off for you, the least you could do is keep your window rolled down while I come back with your change. All the way down, not just 6". Today was the first time encountering this... but when you are arguing with your significant other, please roll up your window. That was really, really awkward having to hear about how much of a "selfish whore" he was for not coming home last night. It was even more awkward to stand at the window with your drinks, waiting for you to notice me. This is the only time you have permission to leave your window up. If you're hot and really nice to me, I'm probably going to give you a free drink. That's just the way it works. I'm in a committed relationship and this is my way of flirting without feeling guilty. Half the time I end up paying for your drink anyway, but it still makes me feel better. You get free coffee, I get to flirt, everybody wins. Speaking of free drinks, I love when my friends come in to visit me, and I will probably give you guys free drinks. But when you start expecting it, deals off. I don't go into the bank you work at and expect free money. Although that would be nice. You live here. You come here every single night. You know what hours we're open. Don't come in 5 minutes before I'm scheduled to close and expect me to make you one of everything. It's so rude. I am not a garbage woman. I am not your mother. Don't ask me to throw away your garbage for you. We're close to a gas station, drive your ass down the road a minute and throw it away there. Oh wait, you're already running 10 minutes late for work... And don't throw your garbage in my drive through or on the plants. Do you not have any respect for anything? I will write down your license plate number and report you. Chances are it's my ass that will have to clean up after you, and I don't want to touch your herpes infested McDonalds bag. I'll pass on that, thanks. Now some shout outs: To the creepy old guys... my eyes are up here, thanks. I know you're at the perfect tit-staring level, and I know they're nice, but look at my eyes. And don't wink. Not cute. To the old couples that share drinks... you are way too cute. I hope I'm like you guys when I'm older. You don't have to share a chocolate covered coffee bean, though... I can spare a couple for the both of you, no big deal. To the people who bring their dogs with them... I love it. It totally brightens my day to see your dogs wiggling body waiting to get a treat. To the punk ass kids who steal tips from my tip jar... fuck you. You do realize we have cameras on the outside of our buildings and have already reported you to the cops. Be warned. Karma is a bitch. To the people who park 4' away from the window. Seriously? Go back to drivers ed... I can't reach you. Go go gadget arms. And to the guy that lives underneath me, I know you don't know I have to work at 5:30 in the morning, and yes, it is a Saturday night, but you live by yourself. Do you really need to CRANK your butt rock? Hell, I wouldn't even care if it were that loud, but it's the bass that kills me. Trying to fall asleep, feeling like I'm in a bed at the Playboy Mansion because my whole apartment is vibrating, in a word, sucks. I was just a little extra loud when I woke up this morning, and made sure my dog ran around a little too... oops. But all in all, my customers are amazing. As a whole, everyone is really nice, and I truly, truly appreciate you guys.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Everywhere <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2008-02-24T22:00:58-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/585805652.html From Your Friendly Neighborhood Barista text Free green tea http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/501865011.html I am offering - for free - about five ounces of loose leaf green tea from the Tea Zone, of the variety called "High Mountain Green." I'm not going to lie. The reason I'm giving this away is because it's disgusting. To me and to everyone in my office. But you never know, you might be different. You might like it. I'm sitting in my office and wondering how I can possibly rid myself of this without going against everything I've ever been taught and just throwing it away. The answer is craigslist. Please: come to my office and take this green tea. It is a burden on my desk and a blight on my cubicle, and I can't stop drinking it because I bought it and it is here. But I don't want to ever choke down another sip of this tea again. The deal is that you come and take this tea, no questions asked. No taste tests...I'm not serving out mugs of tea during my workday. Just take it. If you hate it you have several options: --post an ad on craigslist. This can be the bag of tea that circulates throughout the Pearl District via craigslist. --How about regifting it to a co-worker you hate for Christmas? --This tea might make good compost --Free confetti --Potpourri --Throw it at yuppies who don't thank you for holding open doors or complimenting their $2000 dogs --Make Jameson Square Park's fountain a tea fountain I don't care what you do with it. Be creative! Just relieve me of it.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Pearl District <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-12-07T10:59:58-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/501865011.html Free green tea text To the Man in the Motorized Wheelchair http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/491649678.html You have restored my faith in humanity. Lamentably, I work in the Lloyd District, and the largest assortment of food offerings in one place is, in fact, that true testament to the Portland Ghetto zeitgeist, The Lloyd Centre Mall. As I was walking toward the down escalator near the cinemas, having procured my foodstuffs, I noted a group of kids in front of me that should, undoubtedly, have been sitting in class in their middle school and were probably reveling in their shared truancy. As they walked, you came zipping around into their path in a motorized wheelchair like the place was the Portland International Raceway. The quartet of young punks either did not notice or did not care enough to cede the right of way. That did not seem to phase you. Noyou plowed right into the middle of them slammed to a stop, and grouchily shouted something akin to, Jesus Christ! Move, motherfucker! out of your toothless maw. I assure you that the profanity was utterly delicious. Then you shoved down on that chairs joystick and took off at a speed that indicated that the world had damned well better move for you. The kids looked on in disbelief. I think on some level they were too flabbergasted to be offended. Is it wrong that the cockles of my dark little heart just warmed at you schooling those young punks? And is it wrong that I then thought of myself in my old age shouting at kids to get off my lawn? There is hope. There are young punks a-plenty, and it is my most fervent wish that I get to plow down as many as my heart desires when Im flying around the mall, my colostomy bag blazing like a standard. Sir, I salute you. Huzzah!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Lloyd District <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-27T18:45:20-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/491649678.html To the Man in the Motorized Wheelchair text a day in the life http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/473412230.html A day in the life of a craigslist heman. Wake up at noon and eat cold pizza while checking email and cl boards. Repost everything that was flagged down yesterday. Fucking libtards! Drink warm mountain dew while searching for pictures of fat women, deformed genitalia, Mexicans and dog shit online. Masturbate to same pics. Wipe key board with hem of t shirt and go take a shit. Weigh yourself before you sit down. Tell yourself that your big boned. Masturbate while on the can and take a pic of your load with camera phone. Weigh yourself after to see how big your dump was. Browse free porn sites. Distort photo's to make the pussys look huge. Post ad in casual encounters saying 'must fuck now, no fatties' and ad in M4W saying your a smart funny and sensitive guy looking for someone to cuddle, no fatties. Pick nose while posting hate rants about illegals. Include the dog shit pics you just downloaded. Check in box for female replies to your posts on ce and m4W. Delete 40 bot replies. Fucking assholes! Respond to 5 real replies from women using a pic from college and a pic of a cock that looks similar to yours, sort of. Photo shop your bathroom load on any pics sent to you, two loads for anyone who looks like they are fat and immedialty repost them on R&R and call them cows and whores. Open the ten replies from men offering you blow jobs. Masturbate to a cock shot and then get angry. Go post anti gay hate posts with a pic of 'god hates fags'. Read responses to your earlier posts and threaten anyone who slammed you. Challenge them to meet mano a mano in a parking lot somewhere. Browse free stuff looking for things to resell on eBay. Browse free porn sites. Post personal ads again. Include fake cock pic this time. Post more gay bashing rants with pic of guy with a bottle up his ass. Browse erotic services.yell upstairs and ask your mom to loan you $150. When she tells you no go back to computer and seeach for dark skinned women to repost to ice. Fucking illegal whores! Browse free porn sites. Make up a fake name and troll for a few hours. Pretend to be a shallow, slutty woman who types tee hee in all her posts. Use pics that respondee's sent you. Read all the responses to your fake bitch posts and laugh hysterically. Yell upstairs for your mom to order you a pizza. Browse free porn. Think about all the losers posting on cl and how much smarter you are then all of them. What asshats! Masturbate again Tell yourself tomorrow your going to start working out and send that resume to Microsoft, they would be lucky to have you. Pass out at 3am so you can get up early. Your 40th birthday is tomorrow and your really gonna slam that asshole bitch who called you a troll.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: of a craigslist dreamboat <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-11-08T23:02:37-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/473412230.html a day in the life text Cancer Rant http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/465030621.html In February of this year I was diagnosed with advanced Hodgkins Lymphoma. I went through eight months of chemotherapy, everything looks really good, and now I am just waiting my post-chemo scans to indicate remission. I am finally done with chemo. Woop woop. This is very good news for me. Im real happy about it and I am excited to get on with my life. I was a good cancer patientno, a great cancer patient. I was tough. I didnt curl up in a ball and hide, I faced it, I sucked it up, and got through it. Im not looking for a medal, I just want to preface what I am going to say with the fact that I am not whiney or self-pitying, and that I realize that I am not the only one whos had to deal with this crap, and that theres worse things that could have happened to me. I have a wonderful family and caring friends that have formed a very lovely support system for me. I cannot thank them enough for all their help and love. That said, heres my rantThis goes out to everyone I know friends, family, co-workers, doctors, nurses, radiologists, technicians, friends of friends, exes, and others 1. There is no good kind of cancer. Yes, this kind of cancer at my stage has an 80-85% survival rate. Thats great, I am happy about that really, I am, but that doesnt make it good or any better than any other kind of cancer. Cancer is a scary thing, the treatment is excruciating, and at the end of the day, if you happen to get lucky and be one of the 15-20% that dont survive, that statistic turns from a good one to a not-so-great one. Really. Thats like one out of five. Can you think of five friends? Picture them. If one of them up and died would you consider it a good number of them? I didnt think so. So please, dont tell me I got the good kind of cancer dont even suggest it. Dont even say, Well, at least you didnt get _________ cancer, that would really suck. Uh, hello, this pretty much REALLY sucks. Next time you get cancer Ill ask you if you think the kind you got is good. 2. Dont tell me things I dont want to hear. For some reason, it occurred several times that when I told someone what I was going through (which is kinda awkward anyway), they would say something to the effect of OH, my (mother, sister, aunt, grandmother, insert any other relative or even remote acquaintance here) just died last year of cancer. Or Right, my (insert distant relative here) died of Hodgkins. What the hell?? I have been diagnosed with a terrible disease and am undergoing intensive and debilitating treatment, and youre going to tell me about someone dying? What? Seriously? Its better just to not chime in here. Again, next time you get cancer, Ill try this line out on you and you can let me know what you think. 3. DO NOT ask me about my hair. With the kind of chemo I had, my hair started falling out around treatment #3, slowly at first, then lots at a time until I finally, and very sadly, shaved my head. THAT WAS REALLY HARD TO DO. Its about a lot of thingsits about vanity and feeling ugly, its about the stigma of being sick and that being obvious to the world, its about knowing or not who you are without your hair/eyelashes/eyebrows, its complicated. And, I take ownership of the fact that some of that is really superficial shit but its very real and its emotional. So, comments like Hows your hair doing? Wow, its really thinning out! So is your hair just coming out in handfuls? and Is that a wig? are not helpful and WILL make me cry. If you think this is stupid or oversensitive, let me say it again: next time you get cancer let me know how this goes. 4. Dont tell me its going to be ok. Bottom line is this I know I want everything to be ok, and I know you want everything to be ok you wouldnt be my friend/involved family member if that werent the case. Unfortunately, we BOTH know that it just might not be ok. We BOTH know that there exists the possibility that its not going to be ok and that the disease isnt going to respond, or is going to come back, and that even if I am tough and brave, it could kill me. I have had to deal with that idea since the word cancer came out of the doctors mouth. In that moment, and in the hours and days to come, I knew that it could happen that everything was not going to be ok. If I didnt know that, cancer wouldnt be such a big deal. If that werent a possibility, we wouldnt have shed tears when we heard the news. So, for my sake, dont say that line. I know its the first thing that comes to mind, and I know you mean it well, but try something else that actually means something, like: Whenever you need anything Ill be there or This is going to be rough but Im here for you or Im on my way over with a last seasons Top Model or even just Give em hell, sista. I know you may not get it, but next time you get cancer well share profound understanding when I tell you that I know it may not be ok and that I know thats real scary. 5. Dont comment about my weight. Ok, heres something that I didnt know before I started this. Chemotherapy is NOT a weight loss plan YES, they have indeed discontinued all the fringe benefits from the cancer card membership. Turns out, they give you steroids that make you hungry all the damned time. And, you feel like complete shit and dont even have enough energy to walk up the stairs, much less to exercise. In the beginning when I was still trying to figure out how to deal with shitty side effects like constant vomiting, painful mouth sores, etc, I lost weight because I just literally couldnt eat. But once I got that under control, the hunger would come on, and man, I can eat a lot. I was in pretty good shape (at the gym five days a week, healthy foods, etc) when all this started and now I have gained weight and am up a pants size. The once-muscle has turned into mushy fat and Im not happy about it, but during treatment there was just no fix. So, the wow, youve put a couple on, havent you? or I thought you lose weight on chemo comments are not helpful and again, will make me cry. Next time you get cancer, see how you feel when I tell you to hit the gym. 6. Chemotherapy sucks. I think everyone knows that I dont know what the first thing is that pops into your head when you read that word, but I would venture to guess that its not something warm and smiley. It sucks, it really sucks. You vomit, are nauseated (which is so much worse than vomiting) all the time, you get terrible headaches, you cant sleep, you get sores in your mouth and chronic yeast infections, you get seriously seriously constipated, your brain malfunctions and you cant remember how to get to the bus stop or where you normally leave the toothpaste, your whole body hurts, your toenails fall off (wtf? Yeah) and now they give you shots to stimulate white blood cell production (at least in my case) that cause relentless, incapacitating pain that made you simply want to give up on living just to make it stop. Ok, I said it, chemotherapy sucks and I am really good at being tough and not letting everyone know all the shitty stuff thats happening to me at once, but you know it sucks. So, no, I am not interested in hearing you whine about a cold you think youre getting, your scratchy throat, your eye/ear/sinus infection, your sleepiness, your headache, etc. I know you really dont feel good, but cmon man, suck it up or at least go tell someone else who doesnt have cancer. Next time you get it, youll drop kick the asshole that spends ten minutes talking about how bad their hangover is. 7. Its a REALLY long road. Eight months is a long time to be sick. It just is, and I KNOW (I really know) that it gets old. In the beginning everyone called all the time, offered to go to chemo with me, sent lots of e-mails, came over to visit when I was sick.but after the months drag on its like people get sick of it. I understand that cause I got pretty sick of it too. I got sick of calling in to work, not doing anything fun, not seeing anyone.even just answering the damned How are you feeling? question.I felt like it was better to lie and say fine than to say how I really felt because people kind of dont know how to react or dont want to hear it. I have a wonderful husband and mother who took exceptional care of me, even when they needed a break, even when it got old, even when they got sick of hearing me say I felt like shit. They did that because they knew I needed them. I needed other people too, I needed girlfriends to just come over with a movie or a dvd of a funny tv show, or to call me on the days they knew I had treatment, or to just call when they hadnt heard from me in days. Some did and some didnt. You know who you are and why you didnt. Maybe you didnt feel comfortable or maybe you were too busy. Regardless, I love you, and I will do it for you the next time you get cancer. I really, really hope you never get cancer. I mean that for everyone even if youre a jerk, even if you write to me and rant meaningless bullshit about my rant, even if you really deserve to have something nasty happen to you I hope you dont get cancer. Its awful. Im not one of those Im a survivor! types, Im not one of those in-your-face super tough post-cancer freaks, Im really normal and I will get over this. That said, if you do get cancer or if your friend or (insert any relative here) gets cancer, you can bet your bottom dollar that if/when I hear about it Ill be on your/their doorstep with a big teary welcome to the cancer club hug and a mop and bucket to clean the floors, or popcorn and a dvd for the kids, or dinner so you/they dont have to make it, or whatever it takes, for as long as it takes and you wont have to ask for it, and you wont have to say thanks, because well both just know. Its a special club and we take care of our own.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-10-31T09:31:53-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/465030621.html Cancer Rant text To a few patrons of the Multnomah Post Office. . . http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/449401719.html To a few patrons of the Multnomah Post Office: 1) Middle-Aged Clueless Woman of Japanese Descent: OK, the USPS website said you could ship that package to Kyushu for $6.75 and come to find out, from two clerks at the counter, that it actually costs $37. Do you really think that 10 pounds of anything will ship Priority across an ocean for $6.75? Do you?? How about this. . .use some common sense, step up and realize you read the information on the website incorrectly and trust the clerks that do this for a living. I say this with a smirk, but they are EXPERTS and I KNOW they were actually right this time! Dumb. Ass. Casting a request-for-sympathy-gaze to the rest of us in line got you nothing. In fact, I think I witnessed an 80-year-old woman mouth the words, Eat Shit. I saw you again just the other day on Capitol by the Thai restaurant. Sweet Jesus, woman, you live around here?? 2) Trailer-Trash Wannabe eBay Businesswoman: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Its clear you got some postal game. I mean, you had at least 10 packages prepaid, all ready to go and have obviously mastered Click-N-Ship. Your shit is tight. But ya gotta stick with what ya know, and assisting the clerks in dealing with Middle-Aged Clueless Woman of Japanese Descent is obviously NOT what you know. In fact, that effort was downright futile. You should have known this. After all, youre here every day with your Goodwill-fodder turned eBay treasure. (although I will give you props for being certified WT and under 200 lbs). Anyway, you were really annoying in saying repeatedly, the same fucking shit the clerks were saying, but with an Estacadians command of the English language. Cmon! Middle-Aged Clueless Woman of Japanese Descent was getting uber-agitated and the longer she was agitated, clearly, the longer she was going to camp at the counter until attaining some degree respect or validation. Did I mention that while you were helping the hapless clerks, you were yourself at the counter being assisted by the ONLY other clerk not involved in the fray? Oblivious psycho. You sort of recognized me during your righteous attempt at helping, and you cast yet another request-for-sympathy-gaze. You were not indulged. I maintained the eat-shit expression recently conveyed by the wise and elderly madam behind me. You know, you were nice to me one time when you held that door open, otherwise you would have been at the top of this list. 3) The Yeller: Now I havent seen you before, but you were on a freakin MISSION. I could tell you were a jacked-up Type A in about. . .a second. Its a good thing you werent here Friday, dog. I mean, some shit went down with this crazy lady that. . . Anyway, things were moving pretty good, but obviously too slowly for you. Think, man. . .if you commit to a line that has 12 people in it and two clerks at the counter, what do you expect? Obviously you expect either personal service or a hand job because waiting 5 minutes ANYWHERE is not your strong suit. I was down with the people in the line that day dog, I mean, there was some respectful and sweet old people, a smiling soccer mom and even a non-screaming kid that was actually capable of independent play. There was a 1 for 2 clerk situation (one good one) and overall things were looking pretty good. Until of course you mouthed off, Can you guys get some help out here? Fuckin A! Im all for more counter help. In fact, I might even send a letter to management to report how painful this station is, but saying what you said and then doing all your posturing, sighing and slamming your flat-rates on the counter just wasnt cool. The FuckinA was especially uncalled for, and frankly, it really wasnt on par with your $75 Magnum Opus haircut and designer clothes you were sporting. I firmly believe that a simple, Jesus!, with an emphasis on the Gee, befits a man of your caliber. Seriously, your reckless tirade left one clerk speechless for a least five minutes and should have resulted in the postmaster booting your ass out the door. I was embarrassed because we share the same generation. Heres a recommendation: your time is far too precious to expend at the post office, please send your trophy wife in me and a couple other regulars wouldnt mind checking out some fakies once in a while. And dude, what the fuck are you doing out of Lake Oswego anyway? 4) Forty-Five-Year-Old Cell Phone Tard: Im not spending a lot of time on you. Others have. Your ilk is well-known and well-hated, like on that trip to Salzberg during the fortress tour where you talked over the guide on your cell phone about some fucking t-ball game your brat played in, or at the Beaverton Nissan dealership when you were buying the convertible Z (gag), or even in the milf-infested Pearl District Starbucks. So you think you have a really cool job? Well let me tell you. . .people could give a shit when theyre well into their 20th minute standing at the Multnomah Post Office! We really arent impressed that youre part of the CG effort for the next Dreamworks production. I mean, YOU SELL COMPUTER PARTS ferchrissakes (memory modules I think?) to the Techs that run the computers that support the Creatives that bust their ass in a very non-glamorous sweat shop hell of a job. Come to think of it, youre NOT really part of the CG effort at all. Youre just some nominally-educated, self-employed consultant dickhead that believes hes getting his 15 minutes of fame by name-dropping Dreamworks fifty times to some pissed off people in a line at the post office. I guess I did spend a lot of time on you. And thats because I hate you. 5) Sighing Milf: I dont have a clear picture of you, because you come in droves. You are all shapes, sizes and flavors. 20s, 30s, 40s, blonde, brunette or redhead, you have truly perfected the art of The Sigh. Ive come to appreciate and respect you, for when I hear your call, Im about to have a great moment. Now, The Sigh indicates that Im moving a lot of merchandise and Ive got a formidable stack of packages with me. Capitalism at work. Money in my wallet. Im already having a good day. I want to let YOU in on a little secret Sighing Milf. . .your sweet sigh will almost always preclude one or all of the following: a slower than normal process of placing the packages on the counter, my apparent confusion with a receipt or customs form, or, if Im feeling especially wicked, entry into a light-hearted and prolonged banter with Pete the clerk. You may not be subjected to these atrocities though if Sweet Old Lady or Smiling Soccer Mom are in front of you. But, mind you, Im here almost every day and youll be back too because Ive seen your road-weapon Navigator with the lame stick-family sticker in the parking lot before. Its a slippery slope, The Sigh, and it may eventually elevate you to Cold-Hearted Bitch someday. Just sayin.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Multnomah <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-10-15T02:05:19-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/449401719.html To a few patrons of the Multnomah Post Office. . . text Clean Out My Mini-Fridge for $25 http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/447703490.html Some mystery sauce spilled in my fridge one day, and I didn't feel like cleaning it up. Several hours later, I went on vacation for a couple weeks, giving the sauce time to ferment and congeal into a colorful, ominously pulsating substance with an odor I won't attempt to describe here. This was half a year ago. The sauce is still there, and the intensity of its fragrance is almost overpowering. When I absolutely have to retrieve something from the fridge, I do it as quickly as possible, lest the sauce begin growling at me, or worse. Please. Help me. I can't deal with this alone. The fridge isn't big- 3.5'x2.5'x2.5', at most. It will probably take less than 45 minutes to clean. Anyone?  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: downtown/nw <li> Compensation: $25 for less than an hour of work <li> This is a part-time job. <li> Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster. <li> Please, no phone calls about this job! <li> Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-10-12T21:39:14-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/447703490.html Clean Out My Mini-Fridge for $25 text Dear Cute Young Paranoid Lady http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/398503026.html Yes, I saw you. Yes, you are probably attractive to a certain demographic. Yes, I am unattractive to a larger demographic. Yes, I am middle aged and overweight. In spite of this, it is not necessary to fear me. Fox News, Nancy Grace, and KPTV Channel 12 have told you about every single murderer and rapist in existence. Please note they have never mentioned me. I am one of the very few middle aged men who have decided not to dedicate his life to committing violent crimes against women. There are indeed evil men in the world. I am not one of them. If you encounter me alone on the street you needn't quicken your pace or duck into Starbucks. If you end up in line next to me, you don't have to position a backpack or purse in the airspace between us. You needn't fail to say a muffled excuse me when you reach across me to grab a straw. Fleeting eye contact with me will not be interpreted as an invitation to stalk you. Even if you acknowledge my existence, I will be able to resist engaging you in an overly familiar conversation. I am not dying to get to know you. I am not trying to read the name on your credit card. I will not find it necessary to contrive an accident which allows me to touch your arm, thigh, breast, or ass. Fortunately for you I am GAY. Couldn't tell huh? There are a few of us who don't wear leather chaps, dresses, bangles, or rainbow visors. So, you see, I'm not trying to imagine you naked or catch a peek of your cleavage. Your boobs have no power over me. Can you believe it? I'm not attempting to mentally photograph you in order to fuel future masturbatory sessions. I am able to live forever without carnal knowledge of you. Should we end up the sole survivors on a deserted planet, you will remain childless and humanity will end. So, could you just calm down?   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Portland <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-16T09:45:50-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/398503026.html Dear Cute Young Paranoid Lady text LA Fitness Yesterday (locker room etiquette) http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/394506229.html To the guy at L.A. fitness yesterday who trounced from the shower all the way back to the locker without drying off. WTF were you thinking? The huge puddle of water you left on the floor made the space unusable for others. I needed to use the space too, but couldn't because I didn't want to get my socks wet. It's a damn good thing you were outta there before I walked in. In your mind you obviously view yourself as a pillar in our society and one that we should all strive to achieve. You have no concern for anyone but yourself, and you should have some courtesy for your fellow club members. While I'm at it, let's go over some basic yet intuitive (for those who actually get life) rules for locker room etiquette - these are things I have seen at one time or another - in no particular order: 1. Get in get out. Don't dally in the locker room. It is not a place to socialize and stand around talking or reading the newspaper. When you linger in the locker room you are taking up valuable real-estate. People don't want to be on top of each other when they are changing and the longer you stay in there the more likely it is that it will start to get cramped. I really don't want to be sitting on the bench putting some socks on with some guy bending over in front of me exposing a hairy black hole inches from my face because you are in the way with the fucking newspaper. 2. No talking on the cell phone. This could go along with number one, but it needs to be mentioned in a separate line. Nobody is interested in hearing you make an appointment for your next colonic, and we're not impressed hearing you make deals with your stock broker, you are a legend in your own mind and you're not impressing anyone. In fact it demonstrates you are an idiot. Or are you really trying to take pictures? Either way you need to get out of the locker room, and not pretend to talk on the phone. Do you actually get off on the sights, smells and sounds of this room to want to stay there any longer than you need to? If so you're sicker than I thought. 3. Use a lock on your locker! It's nice that you trust nobody will steal your shit, but at the same time this is a visual indicator for others coming into the locker room where you are setting up shop. This way as other members enter the locker room they can see where the locks are placed and try to spread things out a bit and not end up on top of each other. I look around think, great I have this whole row to myself, then suddenly your sweaty ass appears opens the door next to mine and proceed to get undressed, all the while getting a good whiff of your butt cheese. Does anyone really like that smell? 4. PLEASE no foot powder on the floor! If I want foot powder I will buy my own. What makes you think you can spread this shit everywhere and that others are going to want to use it too? If you have foot problems I wouldn't be advertising it so if you can't keep it on just your foot don't use it. 5. For christ sakes wear a towel. I'm not interested in seeing your parts swinging around the room, there's nothing special going on down there, in fact why would you think anyone will want to look at it? Believe me it is disgusting to see you shaving in the mirror completely naked with hair protruding from your ass crack, have some decency man and cover it. Your wife should be explaining this to you at home, she might have been into it at one time, but I promise she is not anymore. If you are going to sit on the bench put a towel down or here's a novel idea - wear underwear - keep it covered for christ sakes. The thought of your ass crack spreading open and putting your stink down grosses me out. Also the guy with the foot powder might have just been there spreading his fungus and now your ass is really going to be hurtin. 6. Shower usage - if it is one of those shower areas with no curtains and there are two rows of showers with an aisle down the middle, use the same side as the people already in there. I'm not interested in you taking the shower across the aisle from me. I don't want to exchange pleasantries as you wash the Johnson and and spread your ass lathering up and bent over in an awkward looking stance trying to get the shower spray down there. If I wanted to shower with someone I would do it with my my paramour. I don't want to see it and I don't want you to be staring at me either. 7. The scale - other people use it too, please don't just jump out of the shower and use it. I don't run around in there with my clean bare feet - I wear socks instead. I can't get on the scale because you dripped all over it and I don't want my socks wet the rest of they day in my shoes. Think about the others in the room - it is not all about you. 8. Benches - they are a place to sit down. Not pile up your crap while you take a sauna and shower. WTF are we supposed to do when your shit is all over the bench and we need to sit to put our socks and shoes on? It's great you see the room as your house but perhaps next time I'll see it as my house and do a little cleaning of my own and throw all your shit away. 9. Muddy shoes - I don't fucking get it. Why would you walk in from your construction site and get mud everywhere? I wouldn't come to your home and trounce through your place spreading dirt everywhere. If anyone hasn't told you it is a locker room and other people use it too. I don't want to get out of the shower all clean and have to walk through your muck. If you know you'll be muddy bring an extra change of shoes and put them on before you enter. I know the smartest people in the world don't go to the club, so here's a hint - If your feet are filled with dry dirt, it comes off too, and guess what - turns to mud when it gets wet - Moron. 10. In the shower - shampoo your head and wash your body only. It is not a place to shave your dick and face. Your dick you can take care of at home, I don't want to see it. The face can be done in the sink area outside the shower area - with your towel on. The more time you spend in the shower the more likely it is that other people are going to need in and use it too, we don't want to pile up in there, waiting for the little prince to get all spiffed up. Also I don't want to be the one in there next getting your hairs all over my feet. Why would you think I would like to walk into this? 11. In the sink area. If you are going to shave, wipe up after yourself and keep it covered. Grab a paper towel and clean it up. 12. In the toilet. OK, so you drank heavily the night before had a huge dinner and suddenly its pushing at the back door, great for us huh?! Guess what - we don't want to puke. I almost did a few weeks ago - as if hearing the explosion weren't bad enough the smell drifted around the corner and thirty feet away - it took everything I had to stay conscious. While you should not be denied the use of the fixtures - please flush often, and better yet try to push it out at home first. 13. Clean up after yourself, in the locker and shower areas. Why would you leave your bandages in the shower area? WTF - I'm supposed to use the shower now and have whatever affliction ails you now oozing down between my toes? Razors, soap wrappers, soap - like I'm going to pick that up and use it after being exposed to your ass crack with your ass hairs all over it. Take it away with you. Your mother, who performed an act many years ago (again - great for us, huh?) that resulted in the - apple in her eye - does not live at the gym and is not going to come in and clean up after you. You're not the apple in her eye anymore and you sure the hell ain't in mine. YOU NEED TO PICK IT UP. For anyone who can't come in and leave a locker room as you found it, you are nothing more than a disgusting animal. Be courteous of others and keep this kind of shit at home.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Vancouver Hazel/Dell <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-11T08:15:50-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/394506229.html LA Fitness Yesterday (locker room etiquette) text You: gorgeous with blue eyes. Me: in your dumpster. - w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/388141840.html You're hot. I mean, one of the hottest guys I've seen in Portland, easily. If you'd found me on a fun night out, when I'd had a few drinks in me and a lot more makeup on me, I'd have marched right up to you and told you so. But alas, dear missed connection, you found me in the trash. You said hi, and I locked up and spewed a weak "what's up?" What the fuck, brain? You muttered something about cleaning house and dumped a terrarium containing one dessicated cricket. I thought about asking if your pet died, but the socially conscious portions of my brain told me that would be a bad idea. Maybe your pet was the cricket? I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm willing to comfort you with open legs. Also, I found a cup containing $9. Buy you a drink?  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: NE 16th ave <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-08-02T20:50:23-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/388141840.html You: gorgeous with blue eyes. Me: in your dumpster. - w4m text Open Letter From A Paramedic http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/345840046.html Dear citizens of (and visitors to) Multnomah County, By and large, you're a good bunch. I enjoy providing you with the help you need when you call 911. You make my workdays (and nights) interesting. However, from time to time, I notice a few small issues -- perhaps we can call them gaps in your knowledge? -- that make my job a little bit more frustrating. Herein I offer a few simple pieces of advice to help make everyone's emergency experience more satisfying. 1. When I ask you questions, please strive to tell me the full and complete truth. There's no badge or gun on me. I'm not going to get you in trouble for being high on drugs, but I really would like to know what exactly you did. You're not fooling anyone. Likewise, I don't care who you were having sex with, where, with what exciting accessories, and what your respective spouses will think, but if it's contributed to your condition you should probably bring it up. 2. I regret to inform you life is not like TV. We do not run from the ambulance to the patient, we do not drive everyone to the hospital with lights and sirens, and most dead people stay dead despite our best efforts. On the other hand, we are not just a fancy taxi ride. I can start an IV (in your arm or leg or neck), put a breathing tube down your throat, do an EKG to see if you're having a heart attack, shock your heart if it's in a bad rhythm, and give about thirty different drugs for different medical conditions. I can do more in the short term than most nurses. I had to go to school for years. Respect me and I'll respect you. 3. In a related vein, if you could keep the drama to a bare minimum when your parent/sibling/spouse/friend/neighbor/coworker is hurt or sick, it will help everyone immensely. I understand that the situation is upsetting, and I respect your feelings, but the best thing you can do for the patient, me, and even yourself is try to remain as calm as possible. Shouting at me to do something or hurry up will not help. Yelling in general is not, in fact, helpful. Trying to keep out of our way, answering the questions we ask in a succinct and informative manner, and keeping your dramatic tendencies restrained are the absolute best thing you can do. 4. However, if it is your young child who is badly hurt or critically ill, you are allowed all the drama you want. 5. If I am trying to help you and this makes you upset for some reason, please do not try and hit me. I may not be as big and beefy as some of my coworkers. I make up for it in dirty tricks. If you do decide you'd like to tussle, I'd like to point out that you get ONE swing and it is never free. I have giant zip-ties, sedatives, and a radio that can call a whole lot of cops, who aren't nearly as nice as me. 6. If you are driving and happen to see my big vehicle with all the blinkies and woo-woos, please get the hell out of the way. Specifically, pull ALL THE WAY to the right of the street and STOP YOUR CAR. You don't know where I'm going and when I'll need to turn. Unless you're driving a Hummer I've probably got more weight than you, and if you do something stupid that I can't avoid and we stack it up, things won't come out well for you. Also I'll lose my job. 7. Finally, exercise a modicum of common sense about when to call 911. Examples of when 911 is IS appropriate: Traffic accidents with injuries. Chest pain. Trouble breathing. Lack of breathing. Serious bleeding. Unconsciousness. Seizures. Strokes. Examples of when 911 may NOT be appropriate: Blisters. Small cuts. Dissatisfaction with your fast food order. Needing a prescription refill. Colds. Minor problem (sore leg, stomachache) which has been going on for three days. Bearing all that in mind, it's a pleasure to serve you, and hopefully I won't be showing up at your doorstep, street corner, or car door anytime soon. Love, One of Your Many Hardworking (If Underpaid) County Paramedics  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-06-05T19:31:37-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/345840046.html Open Letter From A Paramedic text Attention: OHSU-bound Trimet Riders http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/305543598.html I have worked at OHSU for 4 years. Most of the time, I get to work on one of the many Trimet "Express" buses that serve OHSU. Obviously, these buses are 95% OHSU employees. It is also obvious that most of these riders NEVER ride the bus except to get to work, as they have no idea how to behave or what to expect on a public transit vehicle. Here are a few things to keep in mind: - Medical students, you do NOT need your stethoscope on the bus. Hanging it around your neck like some kind of "I got into Med School" medal is not impressive; in fact, you look like the asshole that you most likely are. Your snotty little haircut and brand-new airline-belt-buckle messenger bag serves as confirmation that you are a dickhead/bitchface. - Middle-aged women with gigantic* asses. Just because a seat remains on the bus, that does not mean that the seat is intended for you. If you lumber on to the bus with your huge purse, a massive lunch cooler and a bouquet of flowers (and did I mention the gigantic ass?) this means that the seat in the back row between the corner and the middle is NOT big enough for you! Do you feel your ass squeezing against the legs of the regular-size people sitting on either side of you? No? Well they do, and that's why they gave you that nasty look. *Note: a curvey or chubby ass that needs a bit of a squeeze to get into a tiny Trimet seat is perfectly understandable and acceptable. But a gigantic ass is another thing entirely, and you know who you are, ladies! - The bus driver will stop at EVERY stop. SOMEONE is getting off at EVERY stop on the Hill. You do not need to lean over me and put your disgustingly saggy tits in my face and breath your rancid coffee-and-egg-mcmuffin breath on me in order to ring the bell. Believe me, we'll be stopping at the VA. We do every morning. Every...single...morning. - Talking in the morning is strongly discouraged. Talking and laughing loudly is prohibited. Do NOT start blabbering loudly with your co-worker. Some of us have exciting and/or scandalous lives outside of OHSU and may or may not have consumed a massive quantity of alcohol last night. Talking in the afternoon is acceptable with the exception of the following topics: how hard your day was, how much you have to do tonight, anything involving your children. - No bitching about the bus being early. This is PUBLIC transportation. And in fact, as OHSU employees we pay less for it than anyone in town. This is not a car service. Don't start running (waddling?) from 10 blocks away clutching that Starbucks between your meaty claws and expect that we'll be rooting for you. Just take the regular bus downtown, catch the 8, be 10 minutes late and learn from your mistake: you don't have time for that 3rd donut before you leave the house. And by the way, it wasn't early. You were late. - The bus will be full by the time we start up the Hill. The empty seat next to you is going to be filled. Don't be one of those assholes who thinks her lunch needs a seat all to itself. Don't sit on the outside seat; scoot in and be a person who lives in a society. When someone approaches your seat and is callous enough to suggest that you should share that 2-seater, don't move your legs into the aisle and expect them to scoot in. Either slide in like a regular person, or get up and let them in (even though you have obvious entitlement issues). - The bus is NOT the place to read the newspaper stretched out to full size. Either learn to fold a newspaper "train style" or wait until later to check your horoscope. - Rolling your eyes, or sighing, or complaining when a person with a disability gets onto the bus is not only rude and intolerant, its also 100% at odds with the fact that you WORK AT A FUCKING HOSPITAL! - Enough with the flowers. Its spring, and its actually nice of you to bring flowers to work (assuming they are for someone else...oh, they're for YOUR desk? Fuck you). Some of us are very allergic to flowers, and jamming them into our face for 40 minutes is going to make the rest of the day miserable. Its obvious that no part of your brain triggers the response, "what about other people?" so I'm here to remind you that yes, there are other people on the bus. - Male nurses in Danskos. You look gay. You might be gay, and that's cool, but know that you most definitely LOOK gay. - Sometimes, we all have to stand. If you are 40+ and overweight, I will not be relinquishing my seat to you, even though I am 30 and in excellent physical condition. I'm tired too, and I'm fucking sitting down. Don't glare at me because you're too heavy and weak to stand up under your own power for 10 minutes. See you this afternoon!   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-04-03T14:38:24-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/305543598.html Attention: OHSU-bound Trimet Riders text Anatomy of the Pelvic Exam. http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/302071264.html You arrive on time. Youre grumpy. You sign in, and sit down in the waiting room. If its your general practitioners office; there is always some old person hacking up a lung next to you, or some kid with a runny nose pawing every single outdated magazine he can get his grubby little hands on. If its your ob/gyn office; there are two other women there, one is so pregnant she looks like shes going to pop, and the other one is glaring at her. You fill out a page or two, and then read your magazine. You wait. Promptly (after about 40 minutes), an exhausted looking nurse in scrubs pokes her head out from the doorway and calls your name. You are led into the back, where you are put into a tiny exam room, and handed an over-washed blanket with frayed edges and a paper device, which you discover is a small vest that serves no purpose. You undress completely, tug on the paper vest, which does nothing to cover your breasts unless you hold the sides there. The linoleum is cold and stickyyou put your socks back on. You are told to sit on the tableso you do, annoyed by the paper sticking to your butt. You drape yourself with the blanket You wait. The nurse comes back in, leaving the door wide open long enough for everyone at the records desk to see you sitting there in your paper vest and your blanket, your socked feet poking out from beneath. Dignity is everything here. The nurse puts the blood-pressure sleeve on your arm, and nearly severs your limb off she pumps it up so high. She asks you to stand on the scale, impatiently waiting for you to somehow cover yourself with the blanket. All necessary data acquired, she swoops out again, making sure the door is nice and wide open so that the patients walking by on their way out get a really good look as you try, bare-assed, to get back onto the table and to sit on the crinkly paper You wait. After what seems to be an eternity; and youve pretty much memorized the drug-company advertisements on the walls, and youve swabbed your ears with a couple of the huge q-tips they have there, the doctor bursts in, clipboard in hand. Never once, do they make eye contact with you, they ask questions, scribble, and then start the mechanical process of turning the innocuous examination table to an instrument of torture. The stirrups are raised, the giant spotlight is turned on, and you are told to lie back and get this relax. You feel your legs being lifted and your heels being jammed into the stirrups. The rolling stool is pulled up, the doctor then has a tray of items brought in from the commercial freezer they keep in the back, and the spotlight is shone directly on your badge of womanhood. Mask on, the doctor ratchets up the vagina-jack. The moment you feel the cold metal on your personal property, you stiffen. After being told to relax again, and you feel like the edge of each duckbill must be sharpened by Ginzu. The doctors hand then reaches up, and uses the ancient martial arts move called the touch of immense discomfort which they are trained extensively to use at medical school by ninja masters. They poke your belly a few times, and you stiffen, express your annoyance as politely as possible which they promptly dismiss with a mumble. They then reach for the implements they need to tinker around inside you like a mechanic. One quick finger up the anus, and voila. Theyre done some scribbling, with your hoohoo in the spotlight, you lay there and wonder you wait. The doctor then turns off the light, and you are allowed to lower your legs, and they promptly advance on you with hands akimbo. Some painful pokings and squeezings and gropings of your breasts, and there is further scribbling. With a slight whoosh of air, you find yourself suddenly alone the door slowly closing, a tiny south-American woman pushing a laundry cart smiles at you as she walks by. You feel like you should have at least been bought a dinner somewhere nice You wait. The nurse comes back in and tells you to put your clothes back on. You may go, she says. She gives you a raggedy looking towelette to remove the KY from your nether regions. You dress quickly, and escape. Good times were had all around. The end.  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Dr. Evil <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-03-28T13:06:10-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/302071264.html Anatomy of the Pelvic Exam. text Dear Males http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/298667342.html Ah darlings, I quit. I don't give up easily but when it comes to you & finding one of you who wont drive me up the wall, I have come to the decision to throw my arms up in the air & stomp away. You impossible, delicious bastards! I don't understand how you work or maybe it's the Universe just thinking it's funny to fuck with my poor brain. When I want a relationship I get all these perverts thinking its impressive & proper behavior to tell me how big their penis is within the first 5 minutes of meeting me. When I want a meaningless fling ranging to fuck buddy I can find a guy to screw but then all the sudden they are deeply infatuated with me & I can't, frankly, stand them as a person for more than the drunken conversation over beers & sex talk. Don't even get me started on the raging psychos that I've been stupid enough to meet off the M4W...yeah YOU. Nuts. Oh christ & while I'm at it...old guys. Stop it. Just stop. I don't know what makes you think that leering at me, sending me dirty pictures, or telling me I'm hot is going to do, but it's certainly NOT going to make me want to date you, do you, or little else besides sitting there all night being squicked out because some creepy, hairy, old man who looks like my Dad just told me I had nice boobs. Every guy who has given me a glance of appreciation, I always smile back if interested...give due notice to say I am open to conversation perhaps? I've posted a million Missed Connections looking for those STUPID STUPID males who give me a shit-eating grin as they get off the bus. Could you have maybe done that a few minutes BEFORE your stop perhaps? That would be nice. Look, I'm not taking a flying leap off a bus just because you smiled at me. If you think I am worth smiling at, do it sooner or just don't. I have places to go, like class, for which I cannot be late no matter how cute you are (Johnny Depp & Jeff Goldblum are the only exceptions). Now, before I get yelled at, I have approached guys I am interested in. I have made efforts. I have had some successes with it, just not many. It kind of sucks. But, to my original point...I quit. I am done making all this effort for a bunch of slack jawed incompetents, psychopaths, jealous maniacs, & the like. I'm just not approaching anyone or even searching for anyone period anymore. Whatever happened to chivalry anyways? Whatever happened to the aggressive male? The one who takes charge of a situation? Jeezus. I hear all these guys whining about how their girlfriend is materialistic, a drama queen, shallow, & boring. Well, all signs should have pointed to this almost immediately were you not blinded by a size 2 waist & tits the size of tasty casaba melons. (Before someone calls me a lard ass, I am of average shape, have a gym membership that I faithfully use, & my tits are spectacular) You met her in a sports bar, when she was wearing her Prada sandals, had her real Coach bag, & used enough hairspray to drown a moose in. She made you buy her every drink, interrupted to talk on her cell phone, & put out the first night. Uh, duh? Please stop complaining about your stupid girlfriend when you were stupid enough to completely ignore the fact that she's generally stupid in the first place & continually ignored it past the second "date" mark & are STILL ignoring it past the 6 month to the 3 year mark. Shut up shut UP! Me, and the many females like me, in our self-ripped jeans & hoodies with little to no make-up & a working knowledge of FPSes, billiards, zombie movies, drinking games, & awesome strip clubs get to sit in the backseat to the spangly, shiny, snotty ladies who spend 2 hours getting ready to go to their freaking friend's house. We don't understand this. We don't grasp the concept of wearing high heels to shit hole bars or the need to spend over $20 on a shirt or a stupid purse that we hate carrying but have to anyways. We hate malls, we hate people who take longer than 30 minutes in a shower (it does take some time to shave you know), & most importantly we don't get why in good fucking christ anyone would tattoo their OWN name on the small of their back. If anyone could fill me in on that, please do. That would rule. So in summation, you do not know how freaking awesome I am, or any of the other girls like me, & even if you do notice you don't take any initiative whatsoever on your part. Girls like me; we want someone who will take control for once. We like manly men. Not sissy-pants in girl jeans with more hair products than us. Since you have chosen to ignore this fact I will no longer be approaching any of you, or actively looking for any of you to become the person who not only rocks my mind, but my naughty little body as well. You will find me in a shit hole dive bar tossing back whiskey & cheap beer. You will find me sitting in the square staring at people waiting for them to do something stupid, you will find me on the bus & the MAX rocking out to the Deftones, Dredg, & other assorted super awesome bands. If you're good at navigating Powells, I'm there too. I'm the girl who's drooling slightly & giggling at the massive pile of books I've managed to accumulate. You will find me in libraries busting my ass to pass all these classes I take in order to make sure I am a well-educated & successful person. If you can find an abandoned house, I might be in there, or have been in there because exploring those things is fucking AWESOME except the spiders. Screw spiders. I'm not down with those. Where you wont find me; however, is on the lookout for a new man. I've decided I have my life to live & I am tired of running into complete trolls & dead ends. My time is precious & you guys completely insist on wasting it. It's gotten old hat, to say the least. If you want me, come get me. Otherwise, have fun looking for cute new cell phone charms with those other broads. Reluctant little &lt;3, Me **EDIT** Thanks a lot for nominating me for "Best Of," & all your awesome emails. I really appreciate it. Ok so maybe not all of you are jerkfaces & for that you earn 5 points, but I'm still not lookin' for a date ;)  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: Portland <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-03-22T14:51:40-07:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/298667342.html Dear Males text To the pale skinned beauty at PDXLAN - m4w http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/281479968.html We locked eyes over the glow of a flat panel monitor, I know I felt a connection as I raised an eyebrow at you while knifing someone in BF2. Something tells me you were having the same thoughts I was, that the only thing better than hitting the boost in flatout 2 would be having someone under your desk while you burn through that home stretch to take the gold. If your heart burns as strongly as mine at the thought of my hand softly guiding yours as you take aim in CS:S, then maybe I can be the water cooling for your overclocked hormones. You: Wearing too tight clothing, probably some cat ears, likely did a lot of walking around in the aisles pretending you didn't like everyone checking you out. Me: Lumpy in all the wrong places, socially awkward, can't talk to girls  <ul class="blurbs"> <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-19T19:48:22-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/281479968.html To the pale skinned beauty at PDXLAN - m4w text I quit Cold turkey http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/279209894.html I quit masturbating last week, and I'm not Mormon. Soak that in a second. So I've got it in my head that as soon as the eve of my 30th birthday passed, I no longer wanted sex. You know. I was old. Besides, without a reliable source of sexual activity, there was no true way to know for sure, just this thought in my head that once I turned 30, I'm supposed to drive slower, worried about finances more, and spend less time thinking about sex. As such, I went from an every-morning habit, to say, every otherish. You know, the motor needs less maintenance now. I'm 30. Enter new girl. She's this cute little thing that makes me laugh a lot. She's also got this completely slammin' body that well, that's none of you damned business. Anyway, because I'm 30, I now feel that with my self-imposed-decreased sex drive, it's time to uh, save it up. NO PROBLEM! I'll see her 3 times a week or so, for the next 6-8 months we'll be in that "sexual bliss" stage of the relationship where we basically preface and footnote every event with a good shag, so well, no need for routine maintenance. After that, we'll get into an argument about nose hair trimmings or used tampons or something, and we'll finally realize we're into a relationship; thus it'll be more important that I hang out with her friends at a poetry slam about Enchiladas than curl her toes EVERY night, so I'll be able to fill some gaps in here and there. Problem being? My over-thinking-neurotic-brain hasn't taken into account that we're both busy people, our schedules don't always line up, and I've now gone 6 days without sex. Day 1: It's not so bad today. I realize that it's more of a force of habit, much like a smoker with nothing to do. After deleting and throwing all forms of pornography (mostly a non-binding resolution that...it's not hard to get back with a few clicks and some simple math; I've been doing this computer security stuff for years, I'm an EXPERT at undeleting shit), I turn on PBS, and grab a book. Day 2: It's now becoming a bit of a pain to actually think about. I have to REMIND MYSELF not to. I turned on PBS again, but it was a documentary on the Washington Monument. Instead I read engineering manuals, and walked the dog a lot. Day 3: I'm now on the longest self-dry-spell since the great broken wrist of '92. That went 3 days, and ended when I finally learned one absolute fact: When under dire stress, the human being can suddenly become ambidextrous. Baggy pants are no match for a stiff breeze. Day 4: Miss perfect is out having drinks with friends. I tried to see if she'd need a ride home. She told me she had a ride. While I'm willing to post an anonymous CL post to the fact, we're not quite to the point where I can simply tell her it's a manipulative ploy to fuck her senseless. I think the dog knows what I'm going through, as he's nowhere in sight. I put on a shirt I wore this last weekend and it smelled just like her perfume. That shirt is now charcoal. Day 5: I'm about to crack. I'd quit this nonsense now and do the quickest data restore in modern history, but I'm seeing her TOMORROW. I have no idea how long it takes to reload the ole' wheel gun. The last thing I can do at this point is fizzle in the sack. Luckily, I'm on shift at the station tonight, so I'll be completely without privacy. Dog sent a note, something about a dangerous living situation; he sent me a link to a mormon website and told me he'd come home if I'd convert: <a href="http://www.nowscape.com/mormon/mormast2.htm">http://www.nowscape.com/mormon/mormast2.htm</a> I tried #11, but the owner/operator of the fishing tackle store kicked me out when I told him what they were for and voiced concerns about a nightcrawler's general toxicity. Day 6: I see her in 10 hours, 6 minutes, and 18, 17, no wait 16 seconds. I came into the office instead of working from home. I sit next to the HR department, where they're talking about who's been screwing who. I hate them. I miss the dog. I miss PBS. I miss my 20's. Somebody help me.   <ul class="blurbs"> <li> Location: SW PDX <li> it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests</ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2007-02-15T11:24:42-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/279209894.html I quit Cold turkey text Helpful tips for the Employed Urban Potsmoker http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/252203398.html Ah, the joys of catching a buzz during the middle of your workday. For the employed urban skyscraper dweller it is nearly impossible to find oneself the sort of locked, isolated supply closet with exterior ventilation (to which only you have access) that would allow imbibing with impunity during the working day. No, many of us, if we want to catch a buzz between 9 and 5 we must do it commando style: in the streets. If your going to be out there on the mean streets getting high amongst all the squares, then your going to need some tips, kid. The following applies to your typical downtown urban setting and is the result of several years of fine-tuning my technique. 1) Mints, mints, mints - but then you already knew this. Smoking pot at work is definitely journeyman level stuff, and not for the beginner. Alcohol prep pads will knock down the hand smell enough to get to the bathroom to wash your hands. You'll also need a long jacket of a non-porous so the scent can't get into your clothes. 2) Joints on the street are probably going to be your best option. Everything else is too much paraphernalia. If you can't pre-roll, a film canister and a pair of scissors will mill anything to a smokable consistency rapidly, I recommend a bathroom stall. If one is forced to use a communal bathroom, particularly odorous specimens can me masked by the "fart spray" available at most novelty stores. 3) You should avoid rolling joints that looks like joints. Lose the pinners. Instead fill up most of the joint with a roll of cardboard (kind of like a "filter") so that the desired product is concentrated at one end of the spliff. Besides fattening up your spliff so that it looks like a cig, it allows the remnants to be quickly thrown aside into the sewer grate, ivy, or whatnot. However, she will smoke quick and hard. Depending on how much you've loaded onto the end of your cardboard tube, it can be all gone in a few puffs. And then we flicks the rest away like a used up butt. 4) Move yourself about on the street. Don't huddle in one place and look like some little pot troll. Stride quickly like you're late for a important meeting, and you're sucking down a quick butt because you're fucking pissed that everyone else in the world is so slow and incompetent. Not so much that you attract attention you wouldn't otherwise have, but enough to where if someone really gets a good look at you their impression will be "Damn, she's on her way to somewhere important!". As such take short, hard drags - more like a cig. Let a little air in around the base as you inhale. It will make for a more even burn and the cool air will moderate the harsh clouds coming from the fat, quickly burning sticky-ickies. 5) Choose your routes wisely. Always walk somewhere where the modified spliff can be tossed aside in a way that prevents recovery from law enforcement or overzealous citizens. Overpasses are a great thing. As are bodies of water. Think like your enemy: the bicycle cop. Be able to flick that piece of evidence somewhere where even some angry, overzealous officer wouldn't bother to tread. Not everyone is going to have great options available to you. The worse your disposal options, the shorter the marijuana section on your modified cardboard spliff will have to be. If you only option is a lione sewer grate, have a shorty and hit it up 30 feet away. By the time you've take the two or three hits it takes to get there, you'll be 90% done and can toss it right away. 6) Don't follow the same route habitually. If you are in the same places every day doing the same thing it's easy for someone that has caught a whiff to make trouble for you. That being said, you don't have to mix it up too much. If you vary your routes and times even slightly it makes it much more difficult to be ambushed. No one gets fired up about a lone roving pot smoker enough to lay in wait for hours to try to catch you. However, if the same grumpy old man keeps getting it rubbed in his face day after day you never know what he's apt to do. 7) Give yourself a little breather. Don't go right back to work. Spend three or four minutes sucking on your mint and looking at the pretty birdies. Then get the paper and retire to the shitter, or otherwise avoid human contact for as long as is feasible or until your sure the last of the vapors have lifted from your skin. 8) There. That's better. Back at work, hummin' and grooving along. 9) Do I smell taquitos?   <ul style="margin-left:0px; padding-left:3px; list-style:none; font-size: smaller"> <li> It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests </ul>  webmaster@craigslist.org 2006-12-21T16:03:46-08:00 Copyright 2008, craigslist.org http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/252203398.html Helpful tips for the Employed Urban Potsmoker text Maddening Phrases from w4m http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pdx/241793692.html Every so often someone posts a list of problems with the dismal personal ads here on CL Portland. I always enjoy reading them. I'm a 30 y.o. male who is fit, attractive and relatively successful. I've gone on 3 CL dates in the past year. 2 were 1-date outings, the 3rd became a girlfriend who I still care about. All were beautiful, funny and cool in general. Here's some phrases which did NOT appear in their ads: 1) Partner in crime. You think its witty, but it is not. Its past hackneyed, past cliche. At this point its almost kitch. Besides, no one actually wants a partner in crime. You want a partner in playing pool, or hiking, or drinking, or in life, or in marriage, or in child-raising, etc. Say what you mean. If you think "partner in crime" is funny, its a red flag that you are not, so please do not try. 2) Not a barbie doll. Often paired with "but not a fattie either". We get it. No one is a barbie doll. No normal guys even want a barbie doll. We want a woman. Women have curves. Men vary greatly in how "curvy" they like their women. I like petite girls with small chests and round bubble asses. Other guys like huge tits and really big calves. So TELL US! There is a HUGE range of body types in between "barbie doll" and "fattie" so give us a clue. You may be surprised how many more responses you get when you're honest with us (and yourself) and get specific about your body. 3) Numbered lists. Ugh. No good man will respond to a list of "requirements" or a list of qualities about you. Use the narrative form; its much more enjoyable for the reader. Not to mention, a man can get a sense of you and your personality from how you write (even if you're not a great writer). Skip the bullet points, this isn't a sales presentation. It really isn't. 4) Boyfriend application. Screams STUCK UP BITCH. "But wait, I was just being funny!" No, you weren't. At least, that isn't how it comes off to someone on the other end. Maybe sitting in your room with your girlfriends, you're giggling about it, but its really just dumb. And at this point, cliche (see number 1). 5) I have herpes. Self-deprecation, used tastefully, can be charming and make others feel at ease. But announcing the one thing you're least proud of about yourself in the title of your post is not a wise move. I often think these women don't really even want a date, they are just venting in a place where they can get frustrated with men. But if you are dating with herpes (20% or more of people are, so its not the end of the world) then don't mention it right away. The thing to do is get to know someone, build a little trust, and then talk about it. 6) I'm fat. More self-deprecation. But this move is just as bad as being misleading or lying about your body type. You may think you're fat. But not everyone will. Further, there are a lot of ways women attract men, and body type is just one of them. Don't get fooled by the 3 idiots on here who bash overweight women every day. Look around; there are overweight couples everywhere. You could be one of them, but not if you turn the guy off in the first 2 words of your ad. 7) Just got out of a long-term relationship. Who the hell wants to be the rebound? Ok, ok...some guys like rebound girls because its a guaranteed fuck and they can treat you like shit afterward. Do you want a guy like that? Do you want to get hurt again? Nice guys won't go for a girl on the rebound. So even if you are, don't mention it. You never know what might happen, so don't put yourself in a little box before you've even looked inside. 8) Hot horny girls want sex in your neighborhood today! Just kidding... 9) I need a date for a wedding or office party. Often, these women are attractive. And the appeal of a specific date idea instead of a non-specific "I want a man" posting cannot be denied. BUT, why don't these girls have any male friends they can take? Here's what to do: find a guy and go for a drink or coffee, THEN if you like him, invite him