Everybody knows that smokin' ain't allowed in school

Have I told you about the time I spent in Detention, in Portland?

No? Well.

Tequilacon, that ultra-serious blogger (ahem) conference (cough) organized by Jenny and the blogger formerly known as Brandon (What? Come on, people, we had lanyards!), was held in Portland, Oregon, a few weeks ago. You may remember. You may have been there. I may even have met you, but then again, there was a lot of drinking going on, and don't even get me started on the Tequila. Seriously, don't.

Where was I?

Oh yes, so, Tequilacon was held at this marvelous establishment called McMenamin's Kennedy School. I was told this was a bar that was in an actual school building. I was directed to the website. None of this prepared me for what the place actually looked like, though. I mean, there was a dance in the gym (we weren't invited).


But in this school, you could hang out in the halls and drink, and not get sent to the Principal's office.


I, however, was sent to Detention. It's the smokey cigar bar, and I would have had the party in there, had I been the one organizing it, rather than Brandon and Jenny, but it's just as well since it would only hold about six people at a time.


They had a fine single malt collection.


And retro ashtrays.


I was allowed out for recess with Dave and Jenny.


But not for long, because my new friend Sizzle kept getting me into trouble.


At the end of the school day, Dave led us in a seance.


Then we all lay down on the floor and oogled the cool lamps.


OK, so I'm fibbing about that part. Only the bit about lying on the floor, though, not about the lamps. I was totally in love with the lamps.


And with Portland.



This is probably the last Tequilacon story, but no promises. I already told you the story about the Jehovah's Witnesses, and how I no longer feel the need to be polite to them. And I told you about meeting Sophia (oh, and Neil, too), and all the other awesome bloggers.