Advice from the Space Needle
I'd just like to say how sorry I am that you're having such a hard time, kiddo. If it's any consolation, there was a time when I was rather unpopular myself. I know it may be hard to believe now that I'm Mr. Seattle or whatever, but there was a long period when I was basically a punch line: "Why does Seattle have so many junkie musicians? There's a 600-foot needle in the middle of downtown!"—that sort of thing. But one thing you've gotta remember: This town may hate you now, but there's nothing Seattle loves more than hating things. And when they hate you long enough, it turns into love. Don't believe me? Ask the Seahawks. Just stay where you are, if you can. Don't sink another inch. Stand your ground. Sooner or later, they'll build a park around you. Also, I think a restaurant would look great on top. Needle out.
Advice from the Risen Ghost of the Kingdome
See you soon!
Advice from the Seattle Public Library
"And on the pedestal, these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Advice from the Fremont Troll
GRRRRRAAAAAAAAGH! BERTHA NOT DIG! ME DIG! MAAAAAHHHHHH!
Advice from the P-I Globe
Sorry, but I don't feel sorry for you. Some of us used to be the masthead for the biggest daily newspaper in the city, a symbol of media prosperity, and then BAM—the internet, the new economy, blah-blah-blah diarrhea. Now I just sit here watching the sun rise and set, while cars zoom by full of Amazon employees asking each other, "What's in the P-I? What does 'P-I' even mean? Is it an irrational number?" Ha-ha. I hope they drive-text themselves into the goddamn bay!