oldschool

well I am back. I went to Portland with no expectations. I went there not knowing anyone, never going there before, and no where to stay. what can I say? I was there for five days. I stayed at laurelhurst park and at burnside. The locals were cool at burnside. they liked my skateboarding enough to let me skate there everyday. At night it was the best, cause I had the park mostly to myself, there were a few "young grommets", but they were cool. Damn it hurts to slam at Burnside. I found the burnside locals were as cool as the park.Also one of the highlights of my adventure. "my fathers place" (local cheap eatery) was the shiz. the first two hours in town, I got kicked in the head, and punched in the face twice. Being a skater, was helpful (masochist). It seems that beating up homeless people for no reason was a sport in Portland. Mostly in Skidmore, and the waterfront. After that unfortunate welcome, I hit a couple of drunken bitches with my skateboard, and avoided the rest. A minor inconvenience in Portland. Some interesting creatures grow wild there. Full on Sid vicious fashion, safety pins and spikes, funky punk hair, circa 83 style. With grateful dead patches on their leather punk coat, and playing hackey sack like they invented it. Hawthorn tye dyes preaching. no sales tax, cheap PBR's and cold ass weather. It was my sort of fun. On the plane ride back, I woke up to a huge storm. Black outside each window except the lightning out each window and to close to the plane. Lights flickering on and off, wings flapping and everyone freaking. Except me and the little kids. I was most fascinated, that was my favorite part. The few days that I have been back have been ultra wierd as well. A gypsy spell has been cast on most everyone I know. What will portend?