Um!

It’s like this—people not from here, here being Portland, Ore., are always like, oh, strip clubs are lame/dumb. Then they come here and visit a strip club dense with lesbian patrons and overtly liberated lesbian strippers who’re fully naked and wicked gorgeous and cool and everyone is stoned to their eyeteeth, eating yummy vegan cuisine, and it’s like Ohhhhhhh I getttttt it now.

I had to get this off my (heh) chest, as it occurs to me whenever pdx bubbles up on main, and I feel people ought to hear this also-bubble. Of thought. As it’s accurate according to moi, le former stripper lady who hath hailed from here (Portland) since circa ‘72. Boop.

No! I’m not high! Okay maybe a little. There was a solid haze of green cloud suspended above the door of the cute lil juice shop I’m hanging around within as I wait for my tropical juice thing. And so who knows. It is Budlandia, after all.

sidenote I now know how the cutie pie wifeys that populate interior design tv programs feel re their adorbs new boho spaces, packed with (breathless panting) moments, bc this shop is WHEWFRESH. And what they feel is probs wholesale scandalized to enter anyplace with design older than ten minutes. Like, how do they deal. It startles the mind to ponder it. I am duly startled to ponder however I shall reenter my own shabby and mustiness-enriched cat haven that is also my home.

Pondering!