So, Andre Miller is now a Blazer, that's pretty awesome. I like the guy, and even though his skills are on the decline, he'll be a good steadying hand for our young team. Plus the 3rd year on his contract is a team option, so if his abilities really go in the shitter we can let him go.
Changing subjects, for my current job in the Wells Fargo Phallus I have 2 options. Either pay $10 per night to park in a garage, or park across the river and ride Portland's MAX. I do both, depending on my tolerance that day for the sweating masses. (On a side note, I think it's pretty gay that I don't get access to the WF employee garage, WTF is that?)
On my way home on the MAX today the tram breaks down, leaving hundreds of people with only one thing in common stranded. That one thing? Anger. Everyone's annoyed as shit. Firstly, that the MAX is stuck, secondly, that they have to ride this giant smelly tube of bacteria twice a day.
It only takes 5 minutes of sitting stalled for the drunk hispanic fellow to start bitching, adding to everyone's already chipper mood. The conductor gets on the intercom, tells everyone to hold onto something, we're moving again, and we go one stop before breaking down again.
At least at the next stop we get some entertainment. This week is Portland's famous Brewer's Festival, which is located, you guessed it, right by the stop we're stalled at. So we get treated to the antics of the realistic lesbian (who is nothing like the ones who run atound in my head, they don't have mullets and weigh >200 lbs) who's had plenty too much to drink. Yay.
Add to all this that I have a borderline migraine and once I get off this train i'll get to drive in rush hour traffic for another hour. Life is good.
At least I can write while hating it. Does that come across at all?
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