While I'm Gone

It is currently sleeting in Chicago. Normally I would hate this, but in a matter of hours I'll be boarding a plane for a warmer clime. That's right shawties, the [Cherry] is going on vacation.

For the next 8 days I will be: starting my day with an OJ and margarita, swimming and body surfing in the ocean, getting a great tan on the beach, eating jamon-flavored chips and taking afternoon siestas with the cool breeze of the Gulf of Mexico lulling me to sleep.

When I return I expect:

1. Temperatures in the 60s in Chicago.
2. The Democrats to get their act together.
3. The Sox to win their home opener.
4. A good lineup for this year's Lolla announced.
5. John McCain to get his teeth fixed. (Seriously, if I need to look at him talk over these next few months the least he can do is go see a dentist.)
6. Hilarious stories of general douchebaggery, intoxication, and/or sexual deviation and depravity over the April Fools Holiday (one of my personal favorite holidays) from all of you.
   
7. The iPhone to Nut It Up to at least 40 GBs.
8. American Idol to be over. Seriously, enough of this shit already.
9. To look and feel at least 10 hours younger.

Hasta Luego, bitches.

People Are Stupid 2008 (Pt. III)

At Starbucks this morning, I order my drink (btw, it is amazing how quickly a $50 gift card runs out) and then while I'm waiting I take my RedEye and go put it at a table. After putting down the newspaper, I go up to the counter to get my drink.


In the meantime, a see a guy walk in and put his stuff down at the same small table that I've put my newspaper, then go stand in line to order his coffee. I'm a bit annoyed but not really, since it isn't as though I'd expect him to know that was my newspaper.

Once my coffee comes up, I take it, go back to the table where I'd put the Red Eye, take the newspaper and move to the next table over.

A few minutes later the other guy sits down at the table, and noticing that the Red Eye is gone, frowns, looks over to me and the following moronic conversation ensues:
Guy: "Is that the newspaper that was right here?
Me: "Yes, it is."
Guy: "Hmmpf. I was reading that."
Me (thinking:) OK, so you're a liar and an idiot. "No. No, actually you weren't. I was reading it. You see, I set it down at the table before you came in, and while I was waiting for my coffee you came in and took my seat."
Guy: "Oh... Sorry."
Me: "Not a problem."

Douchie McDouchebag

Beer: It's What's For Dinner

Note to self: Beer for dinner is not a good idea. Especially after no lunch and a 2-mile swim. Not Carrie Bradshaw was in town for most of the week, and although it was sad to see her go, my liver could certainly use the break.

In other news, I've started a new Flickr! album called "100 Drunk Portraits." It is similar to my "100 Portraits" album, except it will be photos of sober friends pretending to be drunk.

Once I've collected 100-or-so, I am going to sell it to Phaidon and turn it into a coffee table book and make millions.

Things I Learned This Weekend - Special St. Patty's Edition

In no particular order:

1. I might have become a Dewar's drinker. Jury is still deliberating, so stay tuned.
2. I've mastered the talent to actually will myself into a buzz. It is a Mad Skill and I'm going to write a book about it.
3. Despite my hatred for all things St. Patty's Day-related, I still folded to the pressure of dressing the part: green t-shirt, green underwear, and even a stupid green bowler hat (although I don't recall exactly how I got it).
4. The Lair's Club (this one) can get really lame after 2am. (Come to think of it, so can this one, since Niner bailed before 1am, Gancer bailed moments after arrival, and Classy was a no-show.)
   
5. Not Carrie Bradshaw loves "SHOTS!"
6. Cookies with sprinkles rule.
7. I never wish to never set foot in this place again (and yes, the place is as bad as their lame website suggests).
   
8. The ladies room at Big City Tap is really no different than the men's.
   

Open Letters

Dear Man Riding the Blue Line During Rush Hour with Four Giant Suitcases Taking Up Four Seats: The rest of us have to stand because you're too fucking cheap to get a cab from the airport into the city? Fuck you, asshole.

Dear Old Guy Sitting Next To One of the Only Electrical Outlets in Starbucks (That I'd Really Like to Use): I can imagine that being an old retiree can probably be boring, and that you need to get out every once in awhile. But when you come in here and do nothing but read the paper really slowly drinking fucking McDonald's coffee that you didn't even buy here at Starbucks, you need to go.

Dear Elliot Spitzer: Damn, man. We are all human. But why, why you of all people? I was already ready to vote for you for President in 2016.

Dear Beth from MTV's Real World: I caught a portion of "Real World/Road Rules Extreme Gauntlet This Time It's Personal Challenge" or whatever the hell the show is while at the gym. Two questions came to mind immediately: 1) They're still making this show? 2) They're still making Real World and Road Rules? Anyway, more shocking than that realization is that I saw you on it. Seriously? You seriously have nothing better to do with your life? Remember that time sophomore year in college when you went to that house party off campus and there was that sad old girl there who was, like, 24 and an alumni from the school and hitting on all your guy friends and you thought she was so pathetic for being that old and desperate? Yeeaahhh. Well, that's you. Except you're not 24; you're like 40. Time to move on.

Dear Old Man Sitting in Sauna at Gym: Your knowledge of early Scandinavian settlers to Michigan's Upper Peninsula seems extensive and impressive. Really. But why the hell would you think that I would be interested in hearing about it? This is a sauna, not a dinner table. I'm trying to relax, dammit.

Dear Pandora Radio: We've had a good relationship these past two years. But you're getting lazy on me. Stop playing songs I've already given the thumbs up to. Isn't the point that you're supposed to introduce me to new music? Quit slacking and get algorithym-ing again.

Dear Dan, My Lab Partner: Swear to God, you need to shut up or I will kill you.

'Cuz It's Never Too Early...

Tickets to Pitchfork went on sale yesterday. Hells yeah I bought mine.
(I missed the advanced tickets for Lolla 08 last week, but whatevs.)

I think this means there might be a Summer this year.

Blue Line Blues

[the monitors at Clark/Lake subway stop]

Every morning I take the Blue Line to the Clark/Lake stop to transfer to the Brown Line. Since the Blue Line is also the line out of the city to O'Hare, there are monitors set up at Clark/Lake with status of mostly domestic departing flights. I suppose this is to aid commuters heading out the the airport. Very helpful, right?

Personally, I find this not helpful in the least. It is torture, really.

Every. Single. Weekday morning. I am compelled to glance at it as I weave through the crowds and rush of the morning commute - the 9:50 flight to San Fran; the 10:10 to Portland; the noon flight to JFK; LA; Vegas; DC; Austin. Or my favorite - the 2:30 to Heathrow. Fuck you, American Airlines.

You get the picture. It is as though these monitors are there to remind me that I'm not going anywhere. Except to my office or class. When all I really want is to get on a plane and go somewhere; anywhere away from the snow and cold and homework. Sigh.

Anatomy Terms I've Studied That Might Also Be Bands I Saw in College

1. Hypotonic Solution
2. Sulcus
3. Nodes of Ranvier
   
4. False Pelvis
5. Vasa Recta
   
6. Xiphoid Process
7. Golgi Complex
8. Weber Test
9. Glenoid Fossa
10. Axon Hillock
11. Wharton's Jelly
12. Circle of Willis

Actually, I think Circle of Willis is opening for Howard Baldwin Trophy this summer, so be sure to check them out.

At Least I'm Getting an "A" for Sarcasm

In honor of my A&P mid term this evening, a little classroom humor...

Last week in A&P, my professor stopped lecture to look at the clock and ask, "Is that the real time? Is the clock running slow?"

To which I replied a little too loudly, "No, it only seems like it."

Ba-Dum-Bum.

I'm here all semester, folks. Be sure to tip your server.

Thoughts on the Bush Administration

Last week as I was watching his press conference from the treadmill, I began to wonder about George and specifically what the hell it is that he does all day, now that he's worked himself into total irrelevancy.

Sure, he's got the periodic press conference (I loved how his solution to both the impending recession and gas crisis is to "Blame Congress") and the occasional overseas trips to kinda-
important-but-not-really-strategic places like Africa (and I'm sure he's probably got a trip planned soon to the Falklands or Iceland maybe).

But on a day-to-day basis, what do you think he does these days? You think he's in bed by nine (yes)? Maybe catching up on "Lost" or "Heroes" -- you know, the shows he probably couldn't watch when he was too busy fucking up the planet over the last few years?

And how about Dick Cheney? I mean, WTF? Has anyone seen or heard from him in the last 6 months? Is he dead (hopefully)? Or is he in the shop getting his robot parts fixed?

Guesses are welcome.