Take Your Rolling Luggage and Shove It

I feel the need to go off on rolling luggage. Not so much the luggage itself (I happen to own a piece), but rather the everyday morons who don't know how to use it properly.

Unless you are: 1) in an airport or train station, or 2) directly travelling to or from an airport or train station -- than there is absolutely no reason why the fuck you should be using one. Every single day I'm walking downtown and every single day I have to trip over, walk around, or generally avoid idiots dragging a piece of rolling luggage behind them.

Take your rolling luggage, check into your fricking tourist hotel, and leave your fucking shit there instead of dragging it carelessly around Michigan Ave., or into the Starbucks, or the Apple store. You and your luggage are in my way.

It would be one thing if these people actually had any amount of self-awareness and realized what a problem their large, luggaged extra appendage was, but most of the time they don't. Some asshole tried to roll his luggage over my foot today as I was sitting down at Borders. Why the fuck are you bringing luggage into the cafe inside Borders? Allow me to attempt to shove your nasty-ass, floral-patterned bag-on-wheels up your rectum.

Yesterday there was a rather large, slow-moving woman in front of me walking in the middle of the sidewalk with one of those little bags with a handle attached to it. It was impossible to get around her, and do you think she noticed? Of course not. Now, this bag of hers was no bigger than a small package, but God forbid she should actually carry her shit in a purse over her shoulder, or in a backpack like every other normal person would; she had to put it into a rolling cart and take up 10 feet of space behind her. She wasn't dressed like she was coming from or getting on a plane, so my guess she was packing her fucking lunch in it.

My issue with all of this is that I seem to be seeing more and more of these rolling luggage packs throughout the city, as though it is now becoming acceptable practice to stop using a purse, briefcase or backpack and instead buy one of these fucking rolling carts to lug your shit around.

The day is coming, and soon, where I am going to go off. Mark my words.

Fall In Boy

I have a few unofficial mottos, one of which is "Fall can't come quickly enough." (Other mottos include, "on the rocks" "it costs how much?" and "Popozao!" but anyway...)

Despite the fact this fact, I was somewhat shocked upon being reminded that Sunday began the first official day of the season. So Happy Fall everyone.

To celebrate, I went out and purchased two winter coats. Why did I buy two winter coats when it is still in the low 90s here in Chicago? It is a complicated answer: 1) when I see something I want, I tend to just buy it; 2) I couldn't decide which of the two I liked better; 3) I was sorta depressed and buying things makes me less depressed (for a little while, until I realized I spent money that I should be saving which then makes me more depressed than when I started).

But the biggest reason why I bought it is due to the fact that our society has marginalized the Fall season and instead has conditioned us into believing that Winter is more important. So really, I blame society.

Bear with me for a moment. This Marginalization of Fall (called MOF) is true everywhere except maybe in New England (where people really know how to celebrate what I consider to be by far the most awesome season). Sure, there's always hype around the new TV season and football, but otherwise this country is all about skipping the months of September, October and November and heading straight into Christmas.

Don't believe me? Think about it: In Chicago, they started advertising tickets for the Nutcracker back in August. Hallmark has been selling Holiday shit since at least Labor Day (I know this because Captain Corky already bought an ornament from there!). Friday in a bookstore I saw an endcap for fucking Christmas cards. Did I mention it was 91 degrees in Chicago on Friday (yes)? And there they were - Christmans cards (I thought about taking a photo because I couldn't believe it myself, but it was too depressing). Christ on a Bike.

Those responsible for MOF (the government, major retailers, consumer goods manufacturers, Santa, and washed-up musical acts who put out "greatest hits" packages during the Holiday Season -- yes, I'm talking to you Matchbox 20 -- are all united in a secret MOF society) would have us believe there are only three seasons - Spring, Summer and Winter - every year. But I'm declaring war.

I'm just saying No to Winter before its time, and you should too.

(Except for the two winter coats I just bought, which are pretty awesome and would probably be sold out if I wait too long. But you get my point.)

The Overrated List

This month's Radar Magazine features their "Hype Report" - a list of the 44 Most Overrated Things. Not a bad list (I agree with their assessments on #4 Brad Pitt, #27 Jake Gyllenhaal and #42 Twitter), but I think I can do better.

For example, they list "cupcakes" as #2 (huh? cupcakes are awesome!). And "blogging" comes in somewhere close to the top. Which is crap since everyone knows it should be #1. So without further ado:

The [Cherry] Ride Overrated List (in alphabetical order):

1. Alan Greenspan (retire already)
2. Anything and everything related to American Idol (except Kelly Clarkson)
3. Broadway plays based off old TV or movies
4. Brooklyn (get over yourself already)
5. CBS (Two and a Half Men? Cold Case?)
6. Flip flops (sure, I'm as guilty as the next person, but unless you live in the tropics or are heading to the beach, these should not be worn)
7. Green (the color, not the movement)
8. Google (Trust me: No company is more evil than one whose motto is "Don't Be Evil')
9. High School Musical (especially that Zac kid)
10. Irish Pubs (Not located in Ireland. Wow, I can order a Guinness! Gimme a break.)
11. Miami (close second: Seattle)
12. Meerkats
13. Mojitos
14. Perez Hilton (I saw him on MTV and I hate this fucker.)
15. Pixar movies (with the exception of The Incredibles, of course)
16. Ringtones (So your phone belts out Fall Out Boy when it rings. You're a douche.)
17. Sushi (Overpriced bourgeoisie bullshit)
18. Text messaging
19. Vanity Fair
20. Wine

Coming soon - the [C]R list of the 20 Most Underrated People, Places and Things.

Latest in Ridiculous American Apparel Stuff

In what I'm sure will be a regular update on the [C]R, I must point out that American Apparel is now selling more ridiculous shit. In this case it is eyewear, as evidenced on their website.


What the hell is this? Not only are they ugly, but aren't these all the same glasses?

PS - I think I would actually punch someone in the face for wearing the "Hanover" style. Just a warning to you Wicker Park doucheburger hipsters.

I've Got Bitch Tits

Like anyone else, over the last few years I've noticed my body going through some changes, and not good ones.

I spent most of my teen and adult years working out (I've been a competitive swimmer - high school, then college, then in a master's program) but pretty much stopped going to the pool or the gym about two years ago. To nobody's surprise but my own, this has resulted in some unfortunate fat and weight gain. I am by no means obese; but for someone of my small height and stature, I've been getting a bit, well, full figured.

A few weeks ago Dr. Ken posted about his pecs, and it got me thinking about my own. Those years of swimming a couple miles a day gave me, in my opinion, a bigger-than-average chest and shoulders, which I was generally content with. But one of the downsides of having a nice muscular chest is that it very easily turns to fat when you do nothing but sit on your ass and eat donuts. In short, I developed a case of bitch tits.*

I went from having a chest I was proud of, to having a chest that any 12-year old girl would be proud of. My boobs shake when I run down a flight of stairs. They brush up against people on the train. I have a hard time sleeping on my stomach. This is a problem, people.

Now this is where it gets even more disconcerting: Over the past few weeks I have begun working out again -- losing weight, toning up and feeling pretty good that I'm getting my body back on track and into my old routine. The problem is, I don't think I'm losing weight (or gaining muscle mass, for that matter) in my pecs! My torso is shrinking and toning, but my bitch tits are staying the same flabby size! It's like my man-boobs are looking proportionally bigger than before!

At this rate, a manssiere may soon be in order. Good thing XMas is around the corner.

Thanks for listening.

* Not the actual bitch tits certain men get from taking too many steroids, or the real gynecomastia medical condition. My bitch tits are steroid-free and come from not enough exercise and too many Entenmann's Cheese Coffeecakes.

What I Did On My Summer Break(Down) Pt. IV - I Wore a Superhero Cape to Lollapalooza

Other people my blogroll can give you better descriptions about what happened at this year's Lollapalooza, Aug. 5-7 in Grant Park (yeah, it was a month ago, get over it) than I can. But I will say that it was fun. Not as good as last year, but a good time nonetheless.

AT&T, a major sponsor of the festival, "accidentally" deleted an anti-Bush comment by Pearl Jam as part of their webcast of the event (apparently AT&T did the same thing last year during the Flaming Lips set?), so that was really awesome. I love AT&T. Also, I could not make long distance overseas calls in the AT&T tent, like I could last year. And the little plastic fans they gave out were useless landfill. So in my opinion, their presence as a sponsor is totally useless. AT&T sucks and needs to go.

I did want to discuss, however, how awesome me, Richard and our friends Tomas and Sarah are because we got ahold of some sweet-ass superhero capes and wore them on Days 2 and 3 of the show, as seen in the photo below.

[Sarah and I in our amazing superhero capes, Saturday at Lolla.]

Why did we wear superhero capes to Lollapalooza, you ask? Because we are awesome, I said (geez you people need to pay attention).

Here's pretty much how it happened. On Friday, after a few* drinks of vodka and Smartwater (yeah, it tasted about as good as it sounds), and Budweiser Select (yeah, it tasted about as good as it sounds too) and watching the antics of the keyboardist from Ghostland Observatory rocking a cool sliver cape, a history-making conversation ensued that went something like this:

Sarah: "Check out the keyboardist's cool cape. So sweet."
Me: "Yeah, that is awesome. People don't wear enough capes these days. This is a major problem with society, I believe."
Sarah: "I wish we had capes that we could wear to Lollapalooza!"
Me: "Yeah! Like, if each of us had a sweet sparkly superhero-looking ones."
Sarah: "Yes! With those cool old-school big collars."
Richard: "We could each have different colored ones. I want a red one."
Me: "This is actually one of the best ideas ever devised in the history of mankind. ** Let me make a few phones calls."

Some of you may remember how my Grandma made my and Niner's cool Panda costumes for Halloween last year (chronicled here and here). Grandma was a professional seamstress for decades, and she loves making stuff for me - since I will never give her great grandkids, in times like this I can serve as both her grandson and great grandson. When I called to ask if she could whip out four different colored adult-sized shiny capes with collars in less than 24 hours, she didn't bat an eye.

According to my mother, who went with Grandma to the fabric store, there was a conversation between with the clerk that went like this:

Grandma: "I need 3 yards each of the following fabrics."
Clerk: "Wow, how colorful! What is this for?"
Grandma: "I am making my grandson and his friends some capes."
Clerk: "How adorable! Is your grandson in a play at camp or something?"
Grandma: "No."
Clerk: "Is this for a school project then?"
Grandma: "No, he just wants them for some concert he's going to. For Halloween, I made him a panda costume."
Clerk: "Is your grandson a special needs child or something?"***

And so it came to pass. For most of Saturday and parts of Sunday, we walked around all day with our capes on, like we were superheroes, like it was the most normal, logical thing a person could do (it helped that we drank heavily again). We got a few looks, but we also got even more "awesome!" and "sweet capes, dudes!" comments. Everyone was jealous of our awesomeness.

Plus, it made us easy to spot when we got separated from each other.

[Even Superheroes need cash sometimes.]

* And of course by a "few" I really mean a crapload - or, at least enough to make the idea of wearing capes to Lolla seem like a good one.

** OK, maybe I didn't really say that. But I can tell you that I was so excited about wearing a cape that I was at least thinking it.

*** OK, so the clerk didn't say this, but ten bucks it was what she was thinking.