I don’t want this to get weird, Seattle. But I wanna get up on you. Like, clothes on, full on junior high privates on privates rubbing.

I didn’t expect this to happen, in fact I arrived pretty cranky after flying across the country next to a screaming baby. But from the second I stepped into your wet, cold climate and smelled all of your food and your wool sweaters, I was smitten.

In fact, I’m already planning my next Seattle/Portland visit, but in the mean time, I’m working on a series of fun new taglines that would further entice midwesterners like myself out to your Emerald City.

You can smoke pot, wear rubber boots and get gay married here!

Seattle. We’re still trying to make cupcakes happen, but we’re not super obnoxious about it.

It’s supposed to smell like this. This is what Earth smells like. 

I actually don’t  know Tom Hanks or Meg Ryan, but did you know you can smoke pot here?

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