Fun Naked Cyclists or News…? Hm, What to Write?
Every year, hundreds if not thousands of Portlanders (and regional tag-alongs) strip down to their nitty gritties and ride their bicycles in one large armada of butts and flappy bits. And every year each and every news outlet from Olympia to whatever rathole is near the border of Oregon and California just has to cover it. And, oh crap, apparently I just did as well.
Positivity, unity, joints dashing from hand to hand like stinky, wild-eyed children on Christmas morning, there’s a lot more to the ride than just wanglin’ danglers and heebie-jeebies. No, you see, there’s also a ton of wine and booze and beer being passed about as well. And likely some shrooms, acid, molly, and a number of painkillers. And surely some peyote, DMT, AMT, ground orphan bones, freeze-dried cat penises, the Book of Satan, the Book of Mormon, and a number of iPhones loaded with Barbara Streisand’s greatest hits. Also, some idiot showed up that just had to wear his Che Guevara shirt. It’s like dude, topsies without bottomsies? This is 2016, not the Middle Ages.
Oddly enough, this whole thing began as a sort of descendant of 1992’s San Francisco Critical Mass protest ride, which was a big to-do promoting bicycle safety and other protesty stuff. And I guess you can still see the traces of the Portland ride’s parentage, as a few feet above most moons will net you a peek, if not a gander, at the newest trends in bicycle helmets. A bit ironic, I suppose, as if you take a tumble on this ride you’re likely to skin damn near everything but the top and back of your head. Yolo, I suppose.
Speaking of injury, what’s up with like… well, how do you ride… physically? That can’t be pleasant. In what I believe to be an “As the State Turns” first, I interviewed an actual, real-life human being who has been on the ride thrice:
“I just try to ride standing up on the pedals, and if you’re at a stop just sit on one cheek,” the anonymous Corvallisite explained. “It helps if you’re drunk, but you really don’t want the seat, you know, going up there and rubbing around.”
Hear that, entrepreneurs? It’s the cha-ching of future enterprise. I recommend starting with designs not unlike the seats on those Big Wheels kids are always peeling out in. It’s all about the comfort, and the safety.
And not about the chafing.
Oh, and I forgot to mention, this is all about protesting fossil fuels and fighting for bike lane rights and stuff. Go Blazers.
Another Portland First (Whee?)
Portland just became the first American city to say: Halt, you demolition bastards, lay off our old homes. Because there’s good stuff in them, and we want to salvage it. Instead of you just dumping it in the nearest landfill.
Homes that were duct-taped together either in 1916 or earlier will get the special treatment, while everything 1917 and newer can go to hell. Why that year? Experts refused to comment, because I refused to even contact them. How’s that for sticking it to the man? Hashtag Booyakasha.
Because that last section wasn’t brief already.
The PORTLAND LEAD CRISIS (how does that look in caps?) has expanded, now sweeping up two teachers who are being treated after lead was found in their blood. Some stuff is definitely likely to ensue.
Not getting their own headline for once, the Malheur gang and their lawyer strike force are trying to get the enormous bulk of Facebook evidence against them thrown out, claiming that it was collected illegally by the government. This is based on a supposed Fourth Amendment violation by way of an “overbroad” warrant. I read the legal statement and it does sound very, very legal. A judge has agreed to hear the argument. In my expert opinion, these folks are up sh*t creek and it’ll take a hell of a lot more than tossing out their private Facebook data (which is about the most they can realistically hope for from this) to dig them out of the turd hole they’ve carved out for themselves.
There’s a wolf issue afoot, but nobody cares about that. What we care about is Peter DeFazio going after Kate Brown, both Oregon democrats, over it. Fozzie Bear is pissed off because he thinks Brown gave him some bad information regarding wolves in Oregon, which is quite annoying to him, because he is the equivalent of a congressional grand wizard (not like, pointy hats, robes wizard… well… not a KKK thing, I mean) when it comes to population regrowth for wolves. There’s a bunch of other rambling nonsense to this, but the only entertaining part is that they’re all mad at each other and stuff.
I guess tune in next week for more people being mad at each other.
By Johnny Beaver