7-11's Big Ass Rat

Is it weird that I think Portland's big ass rats are more cool than they are scary? Maybe I haven't been properly introduced to what city rats are like because I see them and I keep thinking I should take it home, put it in a cage and teach it to do tricks for bread crusts like my cousin did with his pet rats when we were growing up.

Yeah. That's wierd.

you know you've picked the right major when...

You spend 10+ hours a day your whole spring break working on projects that aren't due for any class just because you can't get enough design, typography, photos, art, posters, tshirts, illustrations etc etc etc...

you know you're on vacation when...

The most important decision you'll make today is which beer to get before walking down to race your beach bikes.

Wickedly bad... and not 'Good' bad...

I love musicals. LOVE THEM. I guess I expected a lot more from Wicked with the book being so stunningly imaginative. But everything I loved about the book was thrown out and rewritten to subdue the dim-witted masses that clamor for happy endings and for every little freakin detail of a plot to be explained to them at length so that they can be sure they don't have to use their underdeveloped senses of rationalization and theory.
CRIPES!
Don't get me wrong. The acting, for the most part, was good. The costumes were sheer design genius. Some of the music was pretty ok. The 'special effects' and sets are what I would expect of a 14 million dollar stage production. But the story left me in tears. Tears that spill forth when someone has pillaged, raped and utterly dumbed down to oblivion the beauty of the original story.
Marty Hughley of the Oregonian puts it in an equally dispassionate, though more eloquent way: here at this Oregonian review of Wicked

This picture is a perfect depiction of our feelings about the show, even at the intermission.