As the State Turns

Ted Wheeler and Some Other Stuff
“I cannot wait for the next 24 months to be over.”

That, my Oregonian holmies, was Portland Mayor Ted the, “Hasn’t Gotten A Nickname Yet, But I Should Fix Him Up With One Soon” Wheeler, mumblin’ after a speech last week during which he was mercilessly heckled. It wasn’t actually merciless, but this is a newspaper. I’ve got a sensationalism quota to meet. Anyway, it’s all good. He said he mutters a lot and joked around about only running for mayor again if he was under the influence of drugs.

While some have been taken aback by the comments, love him or hate him (or just don’t care one way or the other), Ted Wheeler’s job sucks and you can hardly blame the poor bastard. Anything that goes wrong is his fault, and anything that goes right is forgotten in about ten minutes. Taking that into account, if you’ve ever been to Portland, you know that a lot is wrong. Maybe not the biggest concern on the table, but I saw a used diaper in a bag on the TriMet blue line earlier, and I’m really not happy about it. Smelled alright, though, so there’s that. Kind of like a cross between boiled carrots and the crusty leftovers from a pot of curry you made and then forgot to wash like… a week ago. Kind of a sweet smell, if I’m being honest. I mean, I wasn’t going to eat it or anything. I just had something to eat not too long before that. I just…


Good grief, get off my back! I got it home just fine, so you don’t have to worry about it.

I’ll be honest with you right now: I forgot what the hell we were talking about. This is what graduate school, two jobs, and an 8 a.m. Friday dental appointment will do to you.

Just When You Thought I Was Crazy…
Isaiah Padron. Oh man, lol. This is rich. So this 20-year-old young man with a nice, healthy head of hair from Lincoln City called the cops, or had the cops called on him… either way, he told the cops that someone drove up in a dark sedan and shot his phone out of his hand, but like… he did it. He shot his own phone and somehow grazed his own nose with the bullet.

Hold on, hold on, it gets better.

Someone who was around when this guy shot his own phone out of his own hand near his own nose took the gun (somehow) and gave it to the police, who determined that it was stolen from somewhere in Sisters. Padron claims to have bought the hand cannon from some random person for about four hundred bones, but this seems a bit… dumb.

After being caught lying the craziest lie I’ve heard in a long time, Padron admitted that he shot it off on accident. Hitting his phone out of his hand. Near his nose.

I don’t even know what to say, other than… nope, I’ve got nothing. Good job Isaiah, I’m speechless for once.

Or Not
Yeh, I’m over it. But what’s so interesting that I could so easily recover from a man shooting his own phone out of his own hand and grazing his own nose with the bullet? Mass sea lion murder, that’s what.

The decision makers at the National Marine Fisheries Service have responded to a request from the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife to murder the crap out of all the sea lions on the coast with a big greasy “yep.”

Besides their gross, wiry moustachios, why exactly are we killing these things like they’re going out of style? Salmon. Apparently, these lions of the sea (I always thought that title should go to sharks) think they’re as tasty as we do, and we can’t have them hunting them out of existence. I learned this lesson the hard way when I pounded an entire container of Oreos deep down my throat before realizing they weren’t going to regenerate. Also, just so you know, it made me poop black for a few days. The doctor said I’d be fine, but it was quite a shock.

Anyway, sea lions. There you have it. I feel like there’s more to say, but with Thanksgiving in the air, it seems wrong to advocate for not killing stuff. Spirit of the season and all.

P.S. I’m not 100 percent sure as to how exactly they’ll be killing these big, blubbery bastards, but I’ve got $10 on Sarah Palin’s helicopter and a couple of executives from Jimmy John’s.

As the State Turns is a barely-coherent satire with a teaspoon of white-knighting, a pinch of bald-faced lies, and dash of pooptalk. In other words, don’t take it too seriously – nobody here does; especially the author.

By Sam Campbell