LDM Scandalous Adventures

Hey. I'm Tiffany Scandal and I'm a good-for-nothing broad. Let's go on a fucking adventure.

Now, I have a confession to make. Originally this adventure blog was inspired by an upcoming trip I was about to embark on. I agreed to travel the country with Suicide Girls for the Uproar Tour. Being paid the travel with a bunch of babes sounds like a dream, right? Sadly, as it got closer to the date I was told I would leave and not hearing very much in the way of a confirmation, outlook of this adventure actually happening started to look grim. Finally two days after I would've had to give my day job notice that I was leaving, I was informed that we would no longer be a part of that tour. My heart sank a little, but I clapped my hands and shouted "plot twist!" Figured I take the all the extra time I have not leaving the city, actually exploring the city and writing about it. So welcome to my local adventures . . . unless if some of you actually want to send me somewhere to explore -- I'll take that option too. Just saying


It was my birthday on Saturday. I had already resigned myself to the notion that I would spend it indoors in the confines of a pillow fort, drink from a bottle of the cheapest wine I could find, and watch nothing but Absolutely Fabulous all day long. According to my friends, that was the incorrect answer. So I put on my best gothic Peggy Bundy outfit and prepared myself to paint the town red. 

 Are you ready?

Are you ready?

First stop on our adventure was Church. The idea of saying, "I got wasted at Church" was kind of arousing, but when I heard that they had a photo booth that looked like a confessional booth  and that you could take pictures for free if you typed "boobs," my underwear was instantly wet and I had to go. 

The bar was a little smaller than I had envisioned, but for a Saturday night, was not as crowded as most bars I almost immediately regret stepping into on a weekend. There was a wood paneled wall to the left with super old-school-looking light fixtures. The outdoor walls were huge windows looking out to almost dead Sandy Blvd. The decor was a decent mashup of old wooden cathedral and urban living. On almost every wall, you'd read "Eat, Drink, Repent." 

Their whiskey gingers were pretty solid. Using a nice, spicy ginger beer in place of ginger ale is  an excellent touch. Drinks didn't taste like they had a heavy pour, but after about four, I found myself hyper aware of my surroundings (more on that later). Drinks to check out: Wolf I Am, Hang Your Cross, and Death From Above. 

The photo booth was a lot of fun. Walking toward the back corner of the bar, I saw an opening with a black curtain. Just above, a lit up sign that read "confessions." I would say the booth looked more like a wooden sauna than a confessional, but you could easily fit four people in there and take rad pictures. Didn't see where you could type in "boobs," but it was only $2.99 for a strip of photos that get sent via text to your smartphone. Not a bad deal at all. Here are some samples:

 I just really wanted to smell his face. 

I just really wanted to smell his face. 

Pros about this bar: 

-decent decor

-awesome photo booth

-good food

-nice bartenders

-not as crowded as most bars on a saturday night (I'm guessing this is based on location. Not too many open places within foreseeable walking distance).

-awesome happy hour prices


-The door guy. I get that IDs need to be checked when stepping into a bar, but there was a moment where I quickly poked my head outside to see if I could find an open table. I smiled at him as I stepped past, but didn't even go two feet from where he was standing, and the dude still stopped me at the door to check my ID. Shrug.

-Around midnight, it was like DoucheCon let out and the entire vibe of the bar changed. Despite feeling a little tipsy (but far from this), I was suddenly hyperaware of my surroundings. Bros and fake-tanned ladies wearing the tiniest bits of shiny fabric every step you take. I went to take some photos with friends, and in the time we were gone (the time it takes to take four photos in a photo booth), another group swooped in and took 3/4 of our table. Purses, jackets, and drinks were still on the table and chairs we temporarily moved away from. When we tried to let them know we were sitting there, they smiled and continued their conversation. I contemplated pulling the chair from under one of the ladies and starting a bar brawl, but figured I'd rather end my night on the comfort of my own bed and not some pee-soaked jail cell. There was also, a heavy abundance of cocaine usage here. I haven't seen so many coked out ladies since my Los Angeles/College days. It was, well, it's just not my bag. We retrieved our belongings from around the strangers and decided to head to a more comfortable environment.

Overall, I really like what Church could offer. But I wouldn't recommend going late at night. Check them out when just open and take advantage of the $3 well drinks they have to offer. The bar itself earns four out of five rotting skulls, but late-night clientele definitely drops it down to one. 

Alright ghouls and gals, is there a place in Portland you want to check out but haven't had the cajones to? Let me know, and maybe I'll head there next. 

Keep it creepy!


Tiffany Scandal is a writer, Suicide Girl, photographer, intern at Living Dead Magazine, and likes your face. Her first book THERE'S NO HAPPY ENDING is out now through Eraserhead Press.

Powered by you. Thanks.