I love snooty neighborhoods, because deep down if I wasn’t so poor and weird looking I would be a snob. It’s true! Hard to believe, I know! If I had loads of cash and was good looking I would be even WORSE than I am now. I long to live in big houses on tree lined lanes with two German sedans in the garage and a greyhound and two spoiled children, both quarterbacks, and a wife plotting to murder me in my sleep with a Revolutionary War rapier. I want people to clean up those god damned leaves. I want to turn away girl scouts from the door, telling them, no I will not buy their confections as they have lost touch with Jesus. I want to play golf in tennis clothes, and tennis in womens clothes. I want to go up to Jeff Gianola at “the club” and casual say to him, “I got some news for you, chief: you stink.” I want to make a fortune, then lose a fortune, then make it back again. That way they can’t call me Nouveau Rich, because it’s complicated. I want to complain about my tax bracket, squander my health care, not care about the little guy. I’ll be a patron of the arts, just as long as those arts don’t make me think. I want fifty yard line seats at the Civil War and court side seats at the Rose Garden. Have some of my ten thousand dollar wine. I’ll make them name a hall after me, donate to change the name of Burnside to “Gothside”. Make Sam Adams do a boogie dance. Call the Governor on all his shit. Let the president know I’m on to him. Tell the Big Man Upstairs that money talks and bullshit walks!

Anyway, I love this neighborhood. Photos taken Wed, Nov 4th 2009.

Flickr slideshow is jealous of my smarty-pants captions! Read those here, or else.

by Jean-Claude St. Roquefort

Ahhh, ah huh huh huhhhh.  But it is not the springtime, is it not?  How do you say, jump the gun?  How do you say it???

Zeh springtime is the time for the love, it is true.  But it is also zeh time for zeh  revenege?  You did not know this?  Qu’est que vous dis a… zeh Ides of March?  Oh, you have heard of  it, no? Ohhh, ho ho ho, maybe one day, if you learn to read…

Zeh photo essay below illustrates zeh air of zeh romance, but also zeh air of zeh REVENGE.  Leave that plate out, revenge does not need ot be as piping hot as a crepe!!  Stupid.

photo illustrations by Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Jr.

It all started out on the right foot…

photo illustrations by Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Jr.

Or, “Why History Repeats Itself.”

(It’s because even history needs a vacation.  Slave driver.)

It works on the same principle as “Keno”, we hear…

Photo illustration by Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Jr.

photo illustrations by Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Jr.

Why, it’s a party!  A sesqui-celebratation!  Oregon, you deserve it, babe!  Why you’re one-hundred fifty years young today!  Have the other half sando and a milkshake, you deserve it!

While other states would blow their wad on expensive celebrations – fountains of Spanish doubloons, fireworks in the shape of a beaver, a sheet cake — Oregon, you are far too sensible for that. Besides, it’s Saturday, time for the launderin’.

Yes, you’ll need those hose for pounding the pavement come early Monday morn’.  I wouldn’t worry, though, Oregon!  You are home of this “information technology”…right? (Or is that California?  Washington?  Wait.)

Never mind that! Your best bet, Oregon, is to attract a man to help you out of your funk.  And a good one, like Will Rogers.  This here handy concoction, made in Grants Pass, both attracts and repels, depending on which way your wind blows.  (Just ask Gordon Smith!)

Get him “stoned”, if you have to!  Oregon, you have some of the finest “Mary Jane” in all of the world! (If you don’t count Humboldt and B.C., which no, Oregon, you so do not.)

Atta girl!  You have him eating out of the palm of your hand!

Welcome to Easy Street!  Eat my dust, California! ::nom nom nom::