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Exotic Magazine - Issue 325
Volume 28 - Number 5 (November 2020)
by Ray McMillin
This just in—Ted Wheeler just voted for Donald Trump, Sarah Iannarone and a ban on same-sex marriage (at least for a few minutes last month). How, you ask? Thanks to some detectives at 4Chan (an anonymous, online image board), it has been discovered that our Secretary Of State’s website, responsible for assisting Oregon voters, is as about as secure as a teenage boy in a porn store.
To access your (or, in theory, anyone’s) ballot and personal address, all you need is a first name, last name and date of birth, before visiting the Oregon Secretary Of State website address, https://SOS.Oregon.Gov/Pages/Index.aspx and clicking My Vote: Track Your Ballot (or just click here). At this point, you may click "Mark My Ballot" to mark a ballot, update party registration information and see "your" voting history, physical address and mailing address. There is no password, no mother’s maiden name...not even a "verify what party you are registered for" box on this website. Name and birthday is all anyone needs to fill out a vote on your behalf. Basically, if you’re on Facebook and someone has wished you a "happy birthday," they might be giving you the gift of having your ballot filled out by someone else...
by Esmeralda Rupp-Spangle
This year has already stretched your sanity to the breaking point, yet, further and further down it tumbles, challenging the very idea of the concept, "Well, at least it can’t get any worse." It’s looking more and more like the traditional gatherings of the Thanksgiving season aren’t gonna happen. In some ways, this is good news. No senile ramblings from Uncle Joe, no kowtowing to your stepmother’s insistence on bringing up the fact that you still haven’t gotten married and no need to pretend that the pitifully dry turkey and mucosal, greyish gravy are a delectable treat. On the flipside though, there’s something strangely comforting about the yearly family row, and you can’t help but wonder what the hell you’re going to do with yourself now. Fortunately for you, I’ve assembled this carefully vetted list of seasonably appropriate alternatives to occupy what would likely be an otherwise depressing evening involving a T.V. dinner, reruns of Criminal Minds and a bottle of bad whiskey...
by Blazer Sparrow
If there was a year that defined my generation (Millennials), it was 1999—a year of unchecked, bloated optimism. 1999’s music, especially, provided a sunny, carefree hypersexual dream that felt like it could last forever, before the entire facade collapsed with Bush stealing the election, 9/11, endless war in the middle east and the looming, growing housing bubble about to burst. It truly was all downhill from here. The Y2K apocalypse was real. Only, it wasn’t a bang, but a slow, pathetic whimper that we’re still waiting to die from, 20 years later. And, these ten songs simply DO NOT encapsulate that last hurrah of innocent joy before the fall, like Smash Mouth’s "All Star" did...
by Hannah One Cup
Meeting the family of your boo, significant other, companion, fun bag buddy you care more for than you’d like to admit to, consort or spouse can be tough. You know, if you went and eloped with your COVID bedmate of the last several months without your family having ever known Jack existed, let alone that you were allowing someone else into your house whilst a pandemic was happening.
What’s more, having your significant other (SO) meet these loving lunatics which you sprouted from, during the holidays, can make things...a touch hectic.
Who does this, you ask? Who would force the person they are regularly getting pleasured from to go into the lion’s den, with practically no armor, other than the one story you gave about that time Uncle Henry made his pet raccoon ride the farm dog? As it turns out, a lot more people than there are couples-after-the-fact. So, let’s get going on some fun ways to make this first meeting get off on the right foot (unlike Uncle Henry, who sorely lost his foot after the raccoon bit his ankle, and long story short, no longer has a right foot)...
by Ray McMillin
Local industry news and events...
Featuring Kali from Columbia Strip...
by DJ HazMatt
Last month, I was having a text argument with Exotic writer Blazer Sparrow, about whether or not Portland is "on fire" or "peacefully on fire." The discussion was political, with me being a more right-leaning asshole, who doesn’t care what inclusive message is attached to the bricks being thrown at the windows of black-owned small businesses, while Blazer, being just left of Stalin, was calling my useful and in-no-way excessive closet of metallic tools a "paranoia-driven stockpile." Look, dude—I don’t even have a lawn, let alone the urge to keep anyone off of it...
by Wombstretcha
It seems as though every holiday, which is more than a mere government-approved day off, has movies about it. Halloween has a barrel of films, Christmas has about seventeen million and Independence Day has...Independence Day. Say, has anyone ever thought about why they play The Nightmare Before Christmas on both holidays? That bastard, Jack Skellington, is really working for The Man! What about Thanksgiving, though? Thanksgiving is a buffer holiday (along with Halloween) which keeps Christmas from starting in August, but it doesn’t really have any movies and the few it does have (Thankskilling and Thankskilling 3 are the only ones which come to mind) aren’t superb. But, there ARE Thanksgiving movies. They exist, but the problem is that nobody has ever seen most of them—leaving them obscure footnotes in cinematic history. So, here’s a list of some of them, for your enjoyment...
by Jimmy Newstetter
All the Newstetter that’s fit to print...
by Norman Kemp
What long nights will I find from here? Sometimes, I wonder if my body will hold. It’s awfully
heavy nowadays, bones weighted by muscles mangled and creaky, like old, wild roots grown too deep, now being ripped up by psychotic lumberjacks. What a rush, though—internal evisceration, that is...
by Stoned Cold Sativa Awesome
It’s been a dumpster fire of a year, not just for the 6% of the 1% who contracted The ’Rona and died. But, for, well, everyone. Pot farms burned down, as fires torched Oregon. Pot shops closed down, as fires torched Portland. Pot roast became pot pie, as 4th of July celebrations were outlawed. But, the biggest casualties for cannabis consumers were as follows...
by Esmeralda Rupp-Spangle
We’ve all been through a few rough breakups. Your exes may be guys, gals or a bit of this and a bit of that. Whatever flavor you choose, no one is immune from heartbreak—that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. Sometimes it’s your fault, sometimes it’s theirs (I’m looking at you, Emily), but regardless of who threw a vase at whom, heartbreak is universal. That’s why it behooves us all to take a moment, step back and say, "Well, at least it wasn’t..."...
by CM Brown
When I got back to my motel, I popped a beer and poured it into a glass—slipping off my shoes and splashing some water on my face. Henley’s voice was groggy when he picked up and I thanked the curve of the earth for that little bit of karmic grace.
"Crawford? You better damn well have something for me."
"I got a bra, a theory and no name."
"How do you have her bra and no name?"
"This ain’t exactly the kind of town that answers questions. I’ve bagged up the bra and I’m sending it overnight to forensics. I’d appreciate a timely response. In the meantime, I’m doing some research up here."
Henley sighed his Henley sigh...
