Things That Scare Me Today

Happy Halloween, y'all.

Unlike last year's big to-do, this year I'm maintaining a low profile (see above illustration). But I would be remiss if I didn't do something to celebrate one of my favorite holidays, so I bring you the 6 Things That Scare Me:

1. People I don’t even know trying to become my friend on Facebook.
2. People still wearing those “Live Strong” bracelets.
3. Killers who lure victims to their home via fake Craigslist ads. Guess I’ll be buying a TV via the old fashioned way, then.
4. Celine Dion appearing on my Pandora Radio. (If you’re not familiar with Pandora, it is an online radio station where you tell it what bands and songs you like, and it populates your playlist with songs based on your recommendations and a complex algorithm.)
5. Senator Larry Craig, specifically that he is still a Senator.
6. Backfat (specifically mine).

[Cherry] Ride Just Isn't That Into You

I took a few days off, but I'm back. (Thanks for noticing, jerks.)
My reasons for the break quite possibly may include one or more of the below factors:

1. Forgot my log-in password
2. Jesus told me to
3. Sharting emergency
4. Put in a corner (like Baby)
5. Thrilling and electrifying collar poppin'
6. Prolonged and exhilerating trannie vacation
7. Still recovering from tragic and embarrassing (yet completely unsurprising) Cubs loss during playoffs
8. Paul Poon
9. Debilitating shame over my love for Martina McBride
10. Dick Cheney
11. Protesting Oracle’s bid for BEA Systems – take that Larry Ellison!
12. Grueling Harpsichord lesson and competition schedule
13. Arrest and subsequent incarceration for something my lawyer has advised me not to speak of until the lawsuit is settled
14. Nightly, athletic and exhausting visits from a Succubus
15. Hellen Mirren's boobs
16. Extreme headband wearing
17. Gender re-assignment surgery
18. Gender re-assignment surgery gone awry
19. Incapacitating hangovers
20. Just couldn’t be bothered
    

The Underrated List

Last week I edumicated you on all things Overrated, and now it is time to share my list of people, places and things in 2007 that deserve a shout-out/what-what/say heeeeey!

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

1. Arnold Palmers (with or without alcohol)
2. Bicycles
3. Capes
4. Cate Blanchett
5. Cellular respiration (close second: Synaptic transmission)
6. Chicago (close second: Boston)
7. Geico commercials (but not so much the Caveman ones)
8. Interpretive dance
9. John Adams
10. Lazy rivers
11. Long Island iced teas (close second: Gin rickeys)
12. Monday nights (close second: Friday mornings)
13. New Zealand
14. Newsweek
15. Skype
16. Sport coats
17. Sunrise
18. Squirrels
19. Trannies
20. VH-1 reality shows

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.

What I Did On My Summer Break(Down) Pt. III - I Joined The Ranks of the Unemployed

As much as I enjoy sharing intimate stories of my unhealthy eating habits and involuntary bowel movements, I don't often talk about many of the more personal stuff that happens in my life, including my job.

Sure, I've complained about it every once in awhile, but for the most part I've kept my job experiences off the Interwebs. Mostly because we all hate our jobs (right?), and because I lived in constant fear that my bosses would somehow stumble across this site and, being the technophobic luddites that they are (there is no talking on cell phones, web surfing or IMing allowed at my place of business), they'd fire me on the spot.

I had not been happy with my job for many months and had been planning an exit. Recently, our agency lost a major account (through no fault of our own; they were getting bought out and needed to suspend all ongoing marketing efforts) and because of this (and some other stuff) productivity and billable hours across the office were down, and there was a sense that things would not be improving anytime real soon. I saw this development as one opportunity for me to discuss my eventual exit in a rational manner with my bosses.

To make a long story short, I found myself one day in a conversation with my boss where I suddenly decided it would be a good time to talk about the future. For the sake of brevity and simplification, the conversation(s) went like this:

Scene I:
Me: "Boss, I don't think this job has been a good fit for me and I think it is time to discuss a transition strategy. And since we just lost a major account, I think this is as good a time as any."
Boss (rather offended): "I'm well aware of the financial stability of this company and don't need you to tell me. Let me think about it and get back to you."

Scene II (a few hours later):
I get a call from my boss to come into the conference room. I enter the room and see him and the other partner sitting with a small stack of papers.
Boss: "We've discussed the conversation from this morning and we've decided that we don't want to pay you to sit around and look for another job and that your last day of employment with this company will be today."
Me: "..."
Boss: "So you have two options. You can work through the end of today, or you can sign these papers here and leave right now. We've cut you a check to cover you through the middle of the month, plus another check for your owed vacation time. The choice is yours.
Me: "..."
Boss: "..."
Me: "I will just leave now, then."

And in a matter of 30 minutes I had cleaned my desk, handed over my keys and was a free man. And the thing is, I think I was/am supposed to feel bad or upset about it, but the truth is that I had been feeling extremely free and optimistic. Sure, it is not the way I wanted it to end, but I've already started a new job (I've started my own consulting business -- wow,it feels weird to write that -- where I'm making good money, can essentially set my own hours, work from home, not have to put on pants) but I now realize how much more of a stress and source of unhappiness that job was for me now that I am out of it. I've used my free time to enjoy the sunshine, connect with friends, and start exercising again. I've stopped shaving and am loving it.

I also started taking classes again so that I can apply to nursing school - but that is another story entirely.

PS - If you're looking for a good online distraction, especially while at work (because really, when and where else would you possibly be looking for a good online distraction anyway?), I highly recommend the game "Five Minutes To Kill (Yourself)" from AdultSwim.com. In it, you run around the office to find items and co-workers to help kill you off so that you don't have to attend that team meeting in 5 minutes. Good fun.

My 12 Hours of Stalking Neil Finn

(Note: If you're looking for a satisfying payoff to this story -- i.e. how the [C]R successfully stalks the great Neil Finn -- go see a Hollywood movie. Because this is real life. And plus, I'm not that lucky.)

This weekend Crowded House descended upon Chicago and rocked my lame ass. To show my appreciation, I decided it would be appropriate for Neil Finn to meet me and realize what an amazing person I am and maybe invite me to hang with him back in New Zealand or at least write a song about me.

I had a great partner in crime in my efforts, Richard (who also bought the tickets for us to the show back in May, the day they went on sale). With help from Niner, Richard and I determined that the band was staying at the Hotel Sax, the former House of Blues Hotel, located right next the HOB, where the magical concert happened.

As I have no real life of any kind, my plan was to arrive in the early afternoon Saturday and essentially hang out in the hotel lobby all day, waiting for Neil to walk through, and then make the Magic happen. This proved to be a pretty easy feat, since nobody there seemed to notice us sitting on the plush couch directly in front of the elevator bank (also, there seemed to be no other groupies around so I was feeling optimistic). So Richard and I sat there in the lobby for about an hour until we started getting really bored.

Richard has plenty of experience in meeting rock stars and knows all the tricks. He suggested that we also hang out in the hotel bar after the concert, and asked the bellhop how late "after the show" the bar would be open (as if to imply he was part of the CR entourage. He was very believable). He also suggested we walk across the street to the HOB to see if perhaps the band was there doing a sound check, so we did. As good an idea that it was, we pretty much got nowhere.

He then suggested we scope out the stage door. We were able to determine that the door was one flight underground, making it a bit difficult access. To make a long story short, we had to walk three blocks west of the HOB, take a parking garage elevator to a sub-basement floor, bust through an alarmed door, endure the stench of vomit and walk through the darkest underbelly of Chicago alleyways. But we found the stage door, and after assessing the situation mapped out a plan to come back both before and after the show (if need be) and meet the band as they entered/left the venue. Because we are clever like that.

Because stalking is demanding work, we decided to leave and return at 6 (doors opened at 7:30), meet up with friends for a drink in the hotel bar and get friendly with the wait staff in case we needed their help after the show (see how smart we are??).

Fast forward to about 8 pm, with Richard and I comfortably seated at the hotel bar with 4 Long Island Iced Teas, a couple of beers and at least a rum & coke between us. The idea of hanging out at the stage door before the show starts seems like both a distant memory and silly at the same time (damn you LIIT's!).

[This is a re-enactment of me kinda/sorta pretending to be looking for Neil Finn in the hotel bar, hoping that maybe like us, he too decided that getting a drink before the show was a good idea. See how dramatic this whole affair has been?]

We head into the venue and meet up with our friends, who are standing about 25 feet from the stage. This is where I am supposed to talk about the concert itself. Yes, it was amazing. But the crowd really sucked because everyone around us was old and had forgotten what it is like to go to a general admission concert, and a few skanks and assholes directly in front of us didn't know any fucking words to any CH songs, nor would they dance, and kept looking at their watches. What the fuck is the point? Go back to Naperville and watch "Two and a Half Men" you fucktard douche nuggets!

Neil and crew sounded and played great, rocked most of my favorite songs and truly put on a good show. They came out for two encores, and played until (I think) about 12:30. When they played "Heaven That I'm Making" (from their new album) and "Better Be Home Soon" I may have cried a little. But because it was dark nobody saw me so therefore you'll never know.

Oh, also, early in to the show, during a quiet lull, I yelled out "I LOVE YOU NEIL FINN!" (Apparently the show was recorded so I'm sure my love profession is now history.) Although I am sure he heard me, he didn't acknowledge. He didn't have to. Because he knows and understands the special bond we share. However, the people around me did acknowledge, and everyone turned and looked at me like I was a freak. "What?" I said. "Somebody had to say it!" Only Richard laughed.

Since this story is really long, let me cut to the end of the evening. After the show, we went outside and snuck down into the alley and stage door. During the concert Richard noticed a lot of people with VIP passes, which meant there was probably going to be a long meet and greet backstage after the show, which also meant that we'd be likely waiting a long time outside for them to come out. By this point, we were both really tired and I was becoming extremely comfortable with the idea of not hanging out at the stage door for an hour or so.

Plus, a big security guy stopped us when we arrived, asking us what we wanted. I decided to let Richard do the talking, and the conversation went like this:

Big Security Dude: "Whaddya want?"
Richard: "We're just waiting for Neil and Nick." (See, I told you he was good.)
Big Security Dude: "Nuh-uh. You can't be down here."
Richard and Me: "OK then. Have a good night."

And that is the end of my story. Before we went back to the street, Richard did snap this photo of me in front of their tour bus. Sadly, this was to be the closest I would get to meeting Neil Finn. But the band is supposed to head back into the studio in December to record their next album (yes!), so there will be a next time. Did you hear that Neil? Our Time On Earth* will come. We will be Together Alone** soon.

[This is me in front of the tour bus. You don't have to say it - I am fully aware of what a dork I am.]

* That was a funny Crowded House insider joke, so laugh.

** So was that, so keep laughing.

Does Anyone Know How I Can Find Out Where Crowded House Is Staying While They're in Chicago?

... Because they should be arriving sometime after midnight tonight, and I got me some Stalking to do.

You will be mine, Neil Finn.
O Yes you certainly will.*

* And I mean that in a completely non-creepy, non-obsessive way, of course.

What I Did On My Summer Break(Down) Pt. II - I Joined a Cult

Like a rash or pandemic, several weeks ago my e-mail inbox began flooding with messages from both old and current friends and acquaintances, asking me to join the Facebook community. I had received requests before, but for whatever reason, in mid-July it seemed everybody was doing it, so I caved.

When i started, I spent about an hour getting my page set up, adding friends and cute little applets, like a "fun wall" and a "places I've been" map (which seems impressive until compared to those belonging to other friends. Sure, maybe you've been to Copenhagen, but I've been to Hutchinson, Kansas bitches!). I sent out a few messages to people in my network, sent back a few "pokes" to people, joined a few clubs - now I'm a member of a "Chicago is awesome" network and a Patty Griffin fanclub. Yippee.

As I went through it, I thought to myself, "this is kinda boring" but figured I'd get into it. Since there are, like, millions of members I figure it must be pretty fun, right? Daily, I'd get virtual gin & tonics sent to me from friends inviting me to join them for Happy Hour. I've now got craploads of virtual drinks saved up (which I do appreciate friends!) but I stare at the row of beers on my Facebook page and all it does is depress me that I'm not really out getting drunk.

And then there's that whole aspect where now everyone in my circle knows every move I make online. Now, all 28 people in my network get a little notice saying "[Cherry] told his brother to fuck off" or "[Cherry] joined the 'I'm Turned On by Little Superstar' Network on Saturday." Awesome for me.

And do I really want to accept the invitation to join the network of some guy who lived on my floor freshman year in college that I haven't seen since then? First off, how did that freak find me? And secondly, I'm afraid if I reject his offer he'll come after me with one of the many hunting rifles that he'd keep hidden in his closet and show off during our floor progressives.

Who are these people who say they spend hours a day on Facebook? How? And Why? While I'm not complaining that I've got great friends in my Facebook community, who has time to keep all this up? Is there something else about this whole movement that I'm not getting? Something else I should be doing besides poking other people and sending them drinks? Am I missing the point?

As far as I can tell, Facebook is pretty much only good for one thing: reminding me of the birthday's of people in my network (btw, Happy Birthday Kathy!). I'm pretty sure I'm over it. I think I'll stick to my tried-and-true cults, like Blogger and Wang-Wang.

In the Passenger's Seat - Recken Roll

Today's guest blogger is my friend Recken Roll, coming to us all the way from London. Recken and I sat side-by-side together during my working stint there two years ago. I knew we would be friends when she took me out for "dirty Indian" the first of my many late nights there, sent me links to Blagg Blog, and dared me to race her through SoHo, me on foot, her in a rickshaw (long story). I won of course.

However, she failed to tell me that one of my favorite drinks - lager and lime - is actually a "chick drink" and when I told her the exciting story of how I met Jessica Alba in a Carnaby Street shoe store, her only reaction was "So what did you buy?" (She was jealous.)

I begged her to write about something that didn't involve me, but that can be so difficult, given the temptation of such great subject matter. So I take no responsibility for the text that appears below, which was not edited by me in any way...

So to get right to it, The [Cherry] Ride and I spent a lot of time together in London – six quality weeks of sitting just 2 feet away from each other is bound to bring you closer together, right?

We also spent a lot of time in the pub and during those special hours wallowing at the bottom of a pint glass, we had several deep and meaningful conversations. I got to know our friend Cherry pretty well and was often surprised to learn that he had lived such an interesting life for someone so young. I know they always say “what happens at the pub stays at the pub”, but some of this is just too good. Therefore, I’d like to introduce you all to The [Cherry] Ride that I know and love…

ThTop 10 Things You DON’T KNOW About The [Cherry] Ride
All of the facts below are based on one conversation or another I had with Cherry before he left London. *Some* of the details have been filled in from fuzzy drunken memories but dear readers, you should know that all of these are based in truth…even if some of these CherryRide wishes weren’t true:

1. The [Cherry] Ride can beat me at arm wrestling…even when I cheat.
2. In his early youth, The [Cherry] Ride was one of Madonna’s favorite club dancers. (He worked the cage at the Limelight in NYC where Madge would scout for new talent.) He was even slated to be “dancer on the left” in the Vogue video. Unfortunately, their love affair ended when he stormed out after she refused to let him pop it and lock it during rehearsals. Famous last words as he left the studio: “Vogue is so gay.”
3. Following his failed dance career, The [Cherry] Ride moved to Washington D.C. After several years of hard work, he was actually on track to become the top secret service agent to the president…until he sharted in the Oval Office.
4. The [Cherry] Ride now lives in Chicago where he is currently writing an auto-biographical screenplay about his troubled youth. I’ve seen an early draft and it’s a beautiful tale of a young man and his personal journey of self-discovery. Although, last I heard, the working title was “Helen Mirren’s Boobs: Proper!"
5. The [Cherry] Ride often goes shoe shopping with Jessica Alba. He may or may not be the reason she broke up with Cash Warren. (I really can’t discuss the details.)
6. Because of The [Cherry] Ride, all McDonald's in Chicago have a size even larger than the super-size. It’s not on the menu, but when ordering, just ask to be "CherrySized." You’ll get a ginormous burger plus 2 orders of fries, an apple pie and a side of pancakes.
7. The [Cherry] Ride once auditioned for American Idol but he walked out of the audition in tears after Paula Abdul crawled over the desk and started licking him and meowing. He never did get to do the robot on national television but it’s still a dream he keeps alive. (The lawsuit against American Idol is pending.)
8. The [Cherry] Ride once dressed like a giant panda for Halloween. No, seriously. There is photographic evidence. I can’t make this shit up.
9. As many of you know, the [Cherry] Ride collaborates with Dr. Ken, Classy and 5of9er to form the Liars Club. What you may now know is that this is not their first time writing together. They also all share writing credits for “Shake Your BonBon.” That’s right, The [Cherry] Ride is the proud owner of a Latin Grammy AND 2 pairs of leather pants.
10. The [Cherry] Ride is filthy gorgeous.

In The Passenger Seat - MysteryGirl!

Today's guest blogger is MysteryGirl! - known throughout the land for her quick wit and especially for her stick figure drawing abilities (jealous).

And as awesome as my blog is (cough), one thing it has been lacking is the kick-ass stick figure drawings only MG! can provide...

Where in the world is Cherry?

Here are my two guesses:

I hope it's the pool.

I hope it's not the bathroom, since that cleanse should be over by now.









Now my blogging world is complete. Couple things: I love the pink drink but what is it, MG!? The Paul Poon is blue in color. Although the real answer is up for debate, rest assured I am not in the bathroom (all that much).

In the Passenger Seat - Classy & Fancy

Hello pretties:

In the first in the "passenger seat" guest blogging series, my pal Classy & Fancy is here to post something to replace that ridiculous "Gone Fishin'" cat photo that has been mastheading for far too long, and explain what I've been up to these last few weeks.

Just a few words about Classy - besides being funny and charming, she also shares my love of interpretive dance and the word "ointment." She's got Mad Skillz, y'all.

Now, I know this goes without saying, but this creation is outstanding work because it addresses three things of great importance to me: Aquaman, Burger King, and sharting.

Thanks to everyone so far who has volunteered for guest blogging duties while I enjoy my extended leave. Thanks to many of you, I think I've got enough volunteers to keep this blog alive before readership continues its sad spiral to zero.

Happy weekend, everyone!

Taking Some Time Off (Again)

[I dislike cats, btw.]

Instead of simply ignoring it or having people e-mail me with "where the hell are you" - type things, I wanted to let you know that I'll be taking (at least) a few days off from the [C]R. It's not like I haven't done it before.

However, I am happy to instate a guest blogging feature during my absence, although last time I suggested it, it went over like a lead balloon. But, like last time, if you're interested you can shoot me an e-mail (you can find it in my profile). I'll even let you decide on the topic, but if you are in need of ideas, there's always:

• The new Crowded House album (of course it is awesome)
• The new Harry Potter movie (saw it last night and it was really great. If you have the chance to see it in 3-D like Richard and I did last night, definitely do it)
• Just how shitty the Bush Administration is (like anybody needs proof, but read this article and it will likely make your blood boil)
• Sharting
• How ridiculous word verification in Blogger can be:

[I think this spells "Go Fuck Yourself, Blogger."]

Peace Out.

O Happy Day

Today "Time on Earth" the new Crowded House album goes on sale in the US. Those of you elsewhere in the world who've been listening to it for at least a week already, don't ruin the ending for me.

In other news, Richard scored two free tickets to the new Harry Potter movie tonight at the IMAX at Navy Pier. Sweet. Recap tomorrow.

Air conditioning still down in the office today. Fuck.

Sweat Shop

I don't got much to say today, except that it is 92 degrees outside and the air conditioner in the office is broke. It is probably 90 degrees here at my desk. I started sweating around 9:30 and now I'm getting kinda pissed off.

Add to that the fact that I've been drinking lemon water with cheyenne pepper + a warm herbal tea (the things I do for this cleansing diet).

In the past, I've worked at places that would let me work from home under these conditions. But I guess those days are looong gone. It's not like we're curing cancer here. How about a little break?

Can I sue my employer over this? I'd love a nice settlement that would allow me to take the rest of the year off.

UPDATE: It is now 3:40 and I'm still here and still really really hot. This is bullshit.

Live Earth

Tomorrow is the Live Earth Concert Event, expected to bring together more than 2 billion people to raise awareness of global warming.

While I tend to be a bit jaded about concerts expected to raise awareness and money, you have to be impressed with the lineup and scale of this -- 24 hours of music, more than 100 bands, across all 7 continents (apparently, there will be a group of scientists in Antarctica who will be, I assume, playing music). No matter your political or personal beliefs, I think this is something everyone can/should get behind so even if you don't watch, take a minute to get (more) educated and/or donate a little dinero.

I probably won't get the chance to watch much or any of it, but MSN has a LiveEarth website set up, where you will be able to download and stream all or parts of it. They've got a kinda scary promo for it here. (They also have an article on the 10 shows that will rock, but, please - Smashing Pumpkins and Wolfmother will suck [SP because they're horrible live, and Wolfmother because, well, they're horribly overrated]).

Somehow, my tickets to either the the London or Sydney gigs didn't show up (which is too bad, esp. for the Sydney show because Crowded House will be there), so I'll need to live vicariously through those on my blogroll already going.

[Look at how yummy Neil is. Even now that he's old.]