Greetings from Bitterville!
I have not heard a peep from Andrew, but I figured, fuck it. I am bored. So update time is upon me. I even had the courtesy to include pictures. I really have nothing scandalous or incriminating to purvey, so I can update from here until I do.
This week is shaping up to be busy and fun, indeed. Tonight, I am going on a Booze Cruise around our fair Lake Michigan. It is Venetian Night, which means I'll be able to take plenty of pretty firework pictures with my newly discovered fireworks setting. It is through the Chicago Sport and Social Club, so I'll be meeting plenty of new people. How exciting!
Last night, H, Sandy and I went to the finale of the Outdoor Movie Festival and it was a doozy! They showed Star Wars, so basically it was an overbooked unattractive people's convention. I have never seen so many people gathered in one place before in my life. It really proved Seinfeld's theory that 95% of our population is undatable. UNDATABLE!
Except for these studs. Hey fellas, not so fast! Bring those mighty swords over here!
I got there super early, but it was already effen packed. I ended up scoring cherry seats, 4 rows back, right next to the sidewalk. Pretty sweet shot of the city.
Look at that hard, round ass. Hot.
The view behind us. We had Romper Room going on back there, but to their credit, they were all pretty well behaved. Ladies and gentleman, the future nerds of America.
This is pretty much how I saw the movie. My eyes were half shut. The fucker about put me to sleep.
I keed, I keed.
It was a pretty fun experience. H and I snuck KetelOne and lemonades and got some serious people watching in. I have only seen bits and pieces of the film, long long ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Neither her or Sandy had ever seen Star Wars and they were pretty unimpressed. I can see why, they are used to CGI, motherfucker, CGI. None of us are Sci-Fi fans, but I figured, since it was the last one, I ought to go give it a shot. Princess Leia totally rocks. That girl is holdin' it down for all the ladies. Word up!
Ok, now I need to back track to the weekend since I have some more pictures.
August 19, 2005
Before our night on the town, my roommates and I took a moment to check in with Maureen, the absolute best crack-addicted, huge smile-wearing, fast-mumblin Walgreen's cashier the world has ever known. We adore her. She always makes some sort of comment on everything you purchase. The next time I go in there, I am going to buy the quart size of lube and a pack of 24 Magnum condoms and see what she has to say about that.
We headed over to the bevy of new bars on Clark Street in Wrigleyville. We settled on Moe's Cantina, a brand spankin' new, um, cantina that is huge and somewhat filled with pretty people. The sangria is cheap and the music is loud. Jackpot!
The new roommate roster.
All sorts of randoms made their presence known. I ran into a pretty good friend from college, with whom I hope to keep in contact. A bunch of Daddy's bank friends showed up, much to H's and Momo's chagrin. We ignored them.
We danced near our table and attracted the attention of a fully functioning midget-like man. Keep in mind, I am 5'10, so this poor bastard must be about 4'5. But he held his own.
Me and the wee man
Molly and the wee man
I am such an ass kisser.
After two hours of pure mayhem and merriment, my club-lovin' girl half of the roommate roster talked me into going to Le Passage. Now, I can NOT stand place like this, but since we were with a cop, he assured me we wouldn't wait in line or really have to pay for anything. Music to my ears. So we all piled into some compacty coupe car and made our way downtown.
As soon as we exited the car, it began to downpour. So we walked into Le Passage, the headquarters for snooty silicone sluts and the geriatric men that support them looking like a bunch of drowned rats. I stayed all of five minutes and quickly made my exit. Fifteen minutes and a fifteen dollar cab ride later, I was home sweet home.
August 20, 2005
I awoke around 9am and lamented the fact I wasn't on my merry way to Indianapolis. So I went back to sleep until 1am. When I finally rolled my lazy ass out of bed, I joined my hungover roommates in a day of hangovers and television.
Yes, it was a very pretty day, but we were all incapacitated and got sucked into a damn Real World marathon.
God Wes, you are one ugly douchebag.
Anyway, we all decided to go north to partake in the overly commercialized psuedo Italian suburban splendor that is Olive Garden. We was a-cravin' breadsticks and that nummy salad dressing.
It was packed, of course, so we gabbed some wood at the bar and oohed and aahed over the cheap drink prices. 40 minutes later, we were seated and our food and service were divine.
Daddy forgot H's b-day was before Sandy's, so he had the waiter bring out a cake for Sandy but not Heather. I whispered his faux pas to him, and I am sure he felt like a royal ass. That cake was damn good. I am going to have someone pretend it is my birthday at Olive Garden every time I go back. Why ever pay for dessert?
We headed back south to join the land of the living it up. Two people in our party had other late night plans, but at each drop off they realized their plans sucked in comparison to hanging out with us. We went to the usual locales. Much to my dismay. Sure, gay bars are fun, but it can tedious if you like guys who don't like other guys. Since Sandy was with us, I forgot about all of that and just watched her all night. She is a one-woman show.
Sandy will talk to anyone. That is just one of the many reasons I adore her. I thought this fellow's top would have looked much better on me. And I told him so. He disagreed.
The facial expressions say it all.
The late night bar we were going to go into charged $10 cover for ladies and only $5 for men. In a show of protest, I refused to enter. H and I walked home around 3am, right after she squatted in some nasty parking lot while I did all her blocking. She splashed me a little. Ick.
Ok, I am tired of typing. And I am hungry.
I just wanted to say thanks for all the kind words and support. I am always a bit shocked to realize just how many of you are reading this. With all the other diaries to read out there, I am beyond pleased that you choose mine.
Great Link Of The Day: Peter Griffin is REAL!