Nate and Libby are no longer togeather.

Profile: Nessy and Libby Break Up

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Nate and Libby are No More

I found myself a girl with dreadlocks,….I thought they would be fun to pull. The problem, however, had nothing to do with the dreadlocks. The problem resulted in the fact that I decided to spend four years of my pathetic life living with her…even after I got tired of pulling her dreadlocks. I never conceived the consequences of developing a long term relationship around a short tugging motion that usually lasted a mere a few seconds or less. The day she smeared dog shit all over the walls of my apartment for showing up too late one night,…I could have ended this dysfunctional relationship….but I didn’t. The night she poured beer all over my PC, ripped up my Italian hand stitched shirt and broke in my windows could have resulted in our demise….but it failed. Resting in the heart of downtown Portland’s cultural melting pot of young sassy hipsters and stimulating night life was our area of residence…I thought that’s what a little lassie with sassy locks would want…as long as I can give it a little tug. The hair became boring as did the relationship. The girl with the hair found new light on the corner of Alberta and Martin Luther King Blvd where she could drink her hairy sorrows away amidst the dive dwelling drunks of a trashy pub called Billy Reeds. Night after night the drinks kept pouring and the pillz kept popping. I myself was left to wonder every night when the ol’ hag would stubble through the door and trample on the hard wood floors of our fresh downtown apartment. After a few months of this mess, dreadlocks scampered off for two nights in a row without a phone call. With no job and only the money she took from me everyday, she made one final “fuck you” as she used my credit card information to pay her bills online. Waiting for some kind of contact, I finally received a phone call the next night as she explained that she had been fucking her drug dealer for the last three months and that she was moving in with him. Five feet, seven inches, plumper than a plumber and balder than Ted Danson. She was now living amidst the trash of North Portland’s crime infested wastelands with a fat guy. She chose Tony over me…rags over ritches..fat over skinny. Broker than my computer she took her baggage to Tony’s where her things were loaded into her hair and she was ghost like Proof,…Tony’s tugging her hair now. Three days later she wants to move back in to my sassy downtown apartment surrounded by the fabulous inner city,…but she can’t cuz no ones hair is that fun to pull. I’m a lone ranger with a loaded weapon…………………