One of the drawbacks of spending your winters in Portland: it's easy to forget the last time your skin came into contact with rays of the sun. The big ball of hydrogen and helium made a rare January appearance on Sunday and, like the kids in "All Summer in a Day," I headed outside to make the most of it.

Instead of sadistically locking a classmate in a closet and running off to pick wildflowers I settled instead for pumpkin bread french toast at Beaterville and an afternoon of running around town in search of comic books and a desk calendar. Random blurry cell phone photos? Of course...

I'm not sure what that guy's head is doing in the middle of a toilet seat but I'm sure there's a good reason for it. This can be found on a wall near the mens room.

Parked outside: a car with bunny-related side panels.

Crow Bar. Crowbar? Crow. Bar. Crow Bar. Oooooooooooooooh, now I get it.

I spotted this spotless Ferrari unattended in the middle of the Pearl District. If I owned this machine I don't know if I'd be so cocky, what with all the bicyclist activists around town and the harboring of resentments and the anger towards motor vehicles and the good glaven! This isn't a sports car, it's a $100K+ target for a half-empty cup of coffee. I'm just saying...

Labels: Portland, the weather