Yeah, yeah, I know. You get caught up in the “preflight” insanity and forget all the goods to make the flight go by smooth. I do it all the time. Until now. (via Coudal, who sees all.)

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Got a lot of shit done this weekend. Worked on a multitude of clandestine projects. Beat the heat. Layed around with a Cooley. Had some good laughs. Wore out some pixels. Went into orbit. Ate on a frugal budget. Slept with the window open. Stayed up late and slept in late. Didn’t give a flying fuck about a number of things.

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Now, on Friday night, when the sun went down and people might normally find themselves at some sportsbar or meat-market’d dance club, or in our pitiful case, “on the couch”, we opted for a quick stop at Holocene. Gentleman of Portland, quit draggin’ yer gals out to those shitholes and try this joint out. Clean, fresh air. Big, open spaces. Smart lookin’ fucks ambling around that made me feel, “not so smart.” Plus, Nakamoto has his design show up there, and man, the shit looks real good up on the wall. It was just refeshing to go to a watering hole and go, “Hey, I’d come back.

Ben Munson had nothing but good things to say about the place, and considering what a cynical sumbitch he is, that’s saying a lot.