Slow Adventures in Slothville

June 21, 2004

Wankers and Bums

Filed under: Boys, Family, Photography, Politics — shhville @ 10:55 am

Ok, sorry for the long silence. My parents' computer is just not for me. You'll be happy to know, however, that today's updates involve both nudity and masturbation.

1. Gay Pride Portland was…eh. I didn't attend the parade so for all I know it was super fabulous. The Pier Dance, however, was pretty lame. Always in the past there have been big decorations and video screens and color everywhere, etc. This year there were hardly any decorations, no video screen to see the D.J., and it was really dark, meaning the pier just wasn't lit well. So instead of feeling like, yay, gay pride, let's all be proud and celebrate, it felt more like we were in the back of a dark club and everyone was fucked up and cruising. Plus, it was cold. And windy. So I had to put a jacket over my pink boob shirt. Not good! The thing that irritated me the most was that the pride committee gave the vending contract to the Holiday Inn this year, instead of a locally-owned/gay-owned business even though they got less of a discount. And thanks to the Holiday Inn, the Pier Dance ran out of water at 11 o'clock so all the kids who weren't old enough to drink alcohol but wanted to dance, had nothing to drink at all.

2. My mother and I were walking along the boulevard above the beach on the East End of Portland yesterday. The boulevard and the beach are separated by a stone wall that is about shoulder height for beach-goers. We were walking along, la di da, when we saw an old man in a red t-shirt walking along the beach right against the stone wall, coming toward us. As he passed us, he gave us this shifty look like he was up to no good. So after he went by we leaned over the fence and looked down to see him walking down the beach nekkid except for is t-shirt. Little old many wrinkly bum disappearing into the distance. For some reason, perhaps penis-related, I was reminded of the time, not long ago when…

3. …I was walking home from class one night around 10 p.m. As I approached my house I noticed a car parked in front of it and glanced in as I walked by. In the driver's seat was a man – young, maybe early twenties, baseball hat – yankin' on his thang like his life depended on it. He saw me. I froze. He froze. I un-froze and kept walking but I was already laughing. He sped away and looked me in the eye one more time as he was peeling out – he looked so horrified. I felt bad for him. He had New Hampshire plates and I figured he just got blue-balled on a date and wanted to rub one out before the long drive home. But who knows. Maybe he was just a perv.

4. And finally for today (although I may update again later), from McSweeney's Daily Reason to Dispatch Bush (and this one's good)

DAY 58

The Bush campaign has raised $296.3 million since 1998, giving it the advantage in both the 2000 and 2004 elections. One-third to one-half of this $296.3 million was donated to the Bush campaign by only 631 people.

This is the end result of Bush's "Pioneers" campaign fund. The maximum individual donation to a presidential candidate by law is $1000; however, the Pioneers have been able to work around this regulation by creating a network of people, mostly businessmen, who are each able to persuade 100 friends or more to donate the $1000 maximum to their cause. Donors who have raised at least $100,000 are dubbed "Pioneers". Those who have raised at least $200,000 are called "Rangers".

Of the 246 Pioneers and Rangers in the 2000 campaign, 104 of them have received a job or appointment during Bush's reign in the White House. Twenty-three of them have been made ambassadors.

2000 election Pioneer Kenneth Lay, former Enron chairman, sent the White House a list of eight persons he recommended for appointment to the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission upon Bush's election. Two of the persons he recommended were appointed to the five-person commission.

The Pioneers group is now twice as large as it was in the 2000 election.

(Source Cohen, Sarah, Thomas B. Edsall and James V. Grimaldi. "Pioneers Fill War Chest, Then Capitalize." Washington Post, 16 May 2004)



  1. In your post you mentioned three of my favorite things. Anyway, I am not responsible for what I am about to type due to the fact that I got no sleep last night because of some dastardly goings on . Speaking of, that dude was totally a perv. Everybody’s experienced inconvenient bouts of arousal but most people don’t pick a city street for a quick release. Most people pick somewhere a little more private if they need a to have a round of five against one. He was a perv or maybe… a-catch-me-if-you-can man. Now the catch-me-if-you-can-man (or woman) doesn’t really want to be seen it’s just the thrill of maybe getting caught while bludgeoning the beefsteak (or “enjoying some Southern Comfort” for the ladies). All the excitement lies in the fact that at any moment, the jig could be up (literally) and you could get caught beating the bejesus out of your best friend ( or ladies: “flipping the pages”). I think that considering the reaction of this erstwhile banana buffer (L: “furnace fanner”)I would assume he belongs to the latter. No doubt he was afraid you’d call the police (The Fuzz).
    True story: I used to clean condos in P-town on the cape during the long winter months when my regular gig was closed for the season and I needed to supplement what I was getting on the ol’ dole. One of the other guys that worked there was suddenly fired. It seems that management was looking for him and found him in one of the units doing the old blanket drill (“entering no man’s land” if you have XX chromosomes). I asked him why he didn’t lock the door while he was cleaning the rifle (“Copying Geogia O’Keefe”) and his deadpan response was “what would be the fun in that?!” Clearly a catch-me-if-you-can. And no, I wasn’t that guy.

    Comment by Avuncular 1 — June 21, 2004 @ 12:13 pm

  2. Whoa. I’m not gonna use my slang thesaurus anymore. I’m just gonna call up Dastard when I need a colorful simile for polishing–uh–spanking–uh–damn, all the good ones are used up… Anyway, hope you had a nice wkend, Sloth, despite the weather making you cover up your boob-shirt… & I hope the wanker didn’t get a glimpse of it beneath your coat, setting him off… OK, that’s just gross. Sorry.

    Comment by Michael — June 21, 2004 @ 1:17 pm

  3. Thank you, Dastard, I know I can always count on you for my daily dose of perversion. I will never hear the phrase “flipping the pages” again without cringing. But you forgot “punching the clown” and “making glue.”

    Michael – I did have a nice weekend with family, thank you. Took my dad out for drinks on his birthday (Saturday) and to brunch on Father’s Day. I’m thinking Father’s Day is probably tough for you – I hope your weekend was ok too. The boob shirt’s glory was completely contained inside my jacket which was unfortunate, but it was dark anyway. So dark in fact, that I suspect there may have been some wanking going on on that pier. Woo hoo! Happy Pride!

    Comment by Sloth — June 21, 2004 @ 2:57 pm

  4. This post has been removed by the author.

    Comment by Avuncular 1 — June 21, 2004 @ 3:56 pm

  5. That is an amazing photo Sloth….again.

    Comment by Avuncular 1 — June 21, 2004 @ 4:12 pm

  6. Oh – thank you so much! It’s a chive in my parents’ garden. 🙂

    Comment by Sloth — June 21, 2004 @ 4:18 pm

  7. For those of you who don’t know, the photos Sloth puts up on this site are her own.

    Comment by Avuncular 1 — June 22, 2004 @ 5:56 pm

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