Lush.
Cynic.
Lesbian.
Living in Portland in a floating house.
Meet me for beers on The Dock of the Gay.
We don’t buy food there. Just essential things like toilet paper, gatorade, and booze.
We quit them for a few years because I struggle with supporting the processed meats and fish and what not…even if I’m not buying it I still feel guilty supporting it on any level. But I read an article once about how if we just shop the non-food items there that eventually they will close the meat end…I highly doubt this because Americans love cheap processed shitty food…but nonetheless it’s a nice thought.
In a city where we wear jeans all summer long and no one has central air, this might as well be a state of heat emergency.
As I complained about going home to the heat today one of the guys who works for me said, “I don’t think you can complain about the heat when you literally live ON a body of water”.
He makes a valid point.
I may at least have to give Frank a dunk…he’s convinced that he’s being murdered by the heat.
Someone find me a cat sized life jacket and it’s Frank and I are jumping off the dock.
