Around Town With Fred

I, along with my enchanting girlfriend, Leigh, ran into Fred Green today, and rescued him from uncertain solitude at the hands of the Portland mean streets.That slack-jawed, oyster-eatin', finger-countin', Hawthorne-walkin', roots listenin', noise-bringin', Florida-schoolin', buffet-eatin' sumbitch was downtown crossing some street and we grabbed him and went shoplifting.We used to share an apartment up in Alaska. Two summers in a row. Both were shitholes, but, the one he picked out, man, that was hell. Fred and Matt "Rooster" Leonard rented the place, and when I finally got up to Alaska a week later, I found my "share" of the joint was "a corner in the living room." Some friends.I was a step up from a common house dog, you know, with a pillow to lay on. Instead, I had a blow-up bed. No respect.But these tribulations forged a bond that will never come undone. Whether I like it or not.Just know this: Anyone who fucks with Fred Green fucks with the entire DDC enterprise. Just the facts, people.It's Saturday. Let's shop.