MY BIKE IS FREE!

Here's a little story about what a complete fucking idiot I am. Back in October I lost my keys; the apartment keys were easy enough to replace, not so easy to replicate the key that unlocks the chain thing securing my bike.

Since it was starting to get cold out, and I don't ride my bike in the winter, I figured I would cut it loose when the weather got nice, i.e., around this time of the year. And I was avoiding buying a new lock, as in a proper Kryptonite U'Lock.

Last week I pulled the trigger and dropped $40 on said new lock. Next step: have my landlord come over and use bolt cutters to break the old one. He arrived with a tool that was longer than my arm and must have been forged around the time that FDR was in office.

It didn't work. He barely got through the plastic casing, let alone the actually metal part. He suggested I obtain a saw of some sort. Well, today while doing my laundry, I decided to have another look, and after a close inspection I realized something...

I'M A FUCKING MORON.

All that needed to be done was to lift the metal rope lock over the handle bars to free it from the cast iron pole it was attached to. Seriously? I spent all these months thinking that no one but the hardest criminal could steal my wheels, and...yeah, not so much.

Now I'm free to roam around this world on a shitty hand me down bike, whom no one will ever want to steal. It's kind of liberating. And embarrassing. But ultimately...empowering.

THE 3 GAYS

Last week, while at work I chatted up a 2 guys whom I was very attracted to, and whom I assumed might play for my team. Naturally I gave them liberal samples of beer and expelled my knowledge concerning such beverages. At some point they were joined by another gentleman, also very good looking. But I figured they were just 3 guys hanging out, which they were...but.

While I was waiting for the bartender to count his money/do paper work, I checked in on Grindr. I know, totally trashy but endlessly amusing. Right away I was messaged "hey are you the guy talking to me about beer?" I almost gasped. Not only was it the hot "alpha" of the group, but he lived 200 feet away, and his profile picture was of him only wearing football shoulder pads.

Anyways, so the guy on his left was his boyfriend that he lives with, and the one on his right was his "regular fuck buddy". I've never met a couple with an actual, honest and seemingly healthy open relationship...and they are apparently looking to add a fourth to the mix. An idea of which I'm reluctant, but very curious about. I mean, these guys are FUCKING HOT!

Last night the trio came in again, and it was...odd serving them beer and food. Mostly because they got me all horny, but really because I could feel their eyes on me, even from across the room. While I'm still on the clock "alpha" gay is texting me, and invited me to go out later to a gay bar. I declined.

I dunno. It's random, confusing and exciting - all at once! Story to be continued...

IT WAS A (QUADRUPLE) FAMILY AFFAIR

WHEW! So I got through a truly momentous weekend; the occasion was none other than my brothers wedding, which I obviously was an integral part of (albeit in the background). It's been 6 days since my lovely Sister In Law (God, that seems weird! But awesome) made an honest man of my brother.

Last week was nuts; my Father stayed at my place, in my bed to be precise, which necessitated a thorough deep cleaning of my linen, and reduced me to "sleeping" on my lumpy couch, which resulted in the strain in my neck and back that I still feel, but since I'm a team player, I went along.

Anyways, I'm not a big wedding guy, or at least I wasn't. My chief concern was the confluence of my then current family (divorced/Mom/Dad/Stepdad), my new family (divorced/New Mom-In-Law/New Dad-In-Law/, New-Step Mom-In-Law, etc) and my existing work "family" that pervaded every inch of this party.

About that last bit: a waitress I work with is a stealth baker, who makes the only cupcakes I'll ever eat, my fellow Bar Back is a semi-famous graffiti artist who made all sorts of artwork for the venue, my direct manager secured 2 kegs of very rare beers, and the 2 guys that own the places I work at were omnipresent.

And then there was my family; HOLY SHIT. It's been at least 16 years since my Dad and Mom were in the same room, and my Dad never met my Stepdad (and my Dad did not bring his partner). Nor have I seen my Aunts and Uncles in years. And I had not yet met the majority of my New Family (on the Bride's side).

If this already sounds stressful, it's because it was. My "date" was my female Polish Roommate (whom my Dad doesn't like), the other guys in the Wedding Party were shocked to discover I was gay, my Mom hates my Stepdad's sister...you get the picture, I think.

And yet...the endeavor went off with only a hitch or 2 (my manager placed a noted on the 2 kegs of "special" beer with a noted about how my brother is gay...I mean...what the WHAT?). So basically, I was a Social Fireman, putting out these weird fires.

Anyways, let's get to the pictures!

Above is my brother and my Dad, and others not in the frame trying to figure out who knows how to tie a double Windsor Knot, in a trendy hotel that was seemingly imported from Berlin. The boys (myself and my Dad excluded) were smoking herb. Oh, and the tuxedo rental place forgot to issue 3 of us Groomsmen vests (they had to make a special delivery at the last minute).

This is an image of the sliver of a balcony where I sought refuge and chain smoked; sweet view, no? I thought so. I figured it was better to hang out here instead of getting high and drunk...right? Shocking.

The soon to be Happy Couple near the beach on a typical overcast day; it was cold and windy as FUCK, and the photographer paraded us around for 2 and 1/2 hours....those pictures better turn out better than my cell phone pics. And it was all I could to keep my mouth shut about his techniques.

This was kinda cool, and keeping in with the overall trend of an "urban" wedding. We took a hundreds of pictures in this alley...Yellow is SO trendy. Again I chain smoked and kept my mouth shut. Around this time I also realized that the Photographer's younger brother/helper was not hot, as I first thought.

It's too bad my brother is 6 inches shorter than me, because I want that suit he bought. My Sister-In-Law looks/looked so beautiful! Cool mural too, right? And that's there beloved dog drawn in between them. Cute! I love how they posed for this picture. Shit was planned out.

As for my Best Man speech...to be honest, I "wrote" it in my head during the ceremony, and discovered gold. My sub-conscious memories of both of them flooded out in a succinct 2 minute speech, for which I did not stutter, and uttered a "I love you both so very much" and thankfully did NOT shed a tear (which was very difficult to do considering the audience).

Whew. A whirlwind it was. I was cashed out by 11pm and mercifully passed out in the back of Roomie's car. As great as it was, I'm so glad it's over. I've been stressing about this for almost a year!!! But I'm very happy for them, and also for me...I love my NEW family!

PS-The happy couple are spending their honeymoon in Africa. How fucking awesome is that?

PPS-I never wanted to get married until this event; I want to fall in love so fucking much.

FIRING ON ALL CYLINDERS

SO! It's a world wind of crazy bullshit the last 72 hours, but I'm somehow still standing, and smiling! Wednesday night I worked harder than I ever have; craft beer convention/beer nerds flocked to my place of employment like whoa, and all I did was wash pint glasses for the first 6 fucking hours I was there straight. No joke.

But I got paid like crazy in cold hard cash and closed that bitch down tight with a co-worker, so much so we got high and bonded over pot, shots of Jameson, awesome beer and Marlboro's. We stayed so late we had to offer the maintenance guy hush money not to tell on us. I got home around 6:30 in the fucking AM.

I was exhausted and looking forward to sleeping in, but my friend was in the area, and repeatedly rang my bell which woke me up around Noon. It was cool, we got lunch and then my 2 buds and I had to report the John Hancock building for this marketing survey I signed us up for. It's been some time since I've been stuck in a sterile conference room and I nearly had a panic attack, but got paid another $200 in cash for my efforts (as did my friends).

So I reported for duty at the nearest Lake View dive bar soon after (love you Joyce!) and then after met up with Mr. Butters, a friend I rarely get to see but always glad I get to when I do (LOVE YOU BUDDY). I tried pimping him out to some hotties, but I think I tried too hard.

On that note, I found me a little hottie who looks kinda like JD McCoy from Friday Night Lights! We started making out and one thing lead to another and I drove his Prius back to my place [children, please so not try this at home].

Much to my surprise he's bi-sexual, although I wouldn't know it by the things he did to me. And rather than fleeing my place like it was on fire this morning, we hung out together, watched some 30 Rock, got some food and made out like it was going out of style. He loves my bed, said so himself many times, and he's good at cuddling. And kissing. And other things that involve mouths.

That's it for now...just picked up a work shift so I gotta jet. Stay classy bitches.

I GOT MY FUCKING SWAGGER BACK YO

Perhaps I've hinted here and there at the sand storm of doom that became my life the last 3+ months, but I'm proud to say I'm fuckin' back in action. My "trip" to hell and back included the loss of my Aunt (a truly awful situation that I'll spare details of), losing a roommate (not the current awesome one) thus eviscerating my meager savings and the recent diagnosis of my Stepfather's prostate cancer.

At one point, I hit rock bottom towards the end of January, and actually made an appointment with a mental hospital (I'm not joking) but the day I was supposed to go in I blew it off, as I was super fucking hungover. And you know what? I'm happy that's how it turned out...I'm not narcotized on head meds, (although I still enjoy my green friend).

But you know what? Somehow I pulled myself out of that nasty fucking dark hole, and I feel SO much stronger as a result. I've adapted to the reality that is my life now, accepted it, embraced it even. Because even though I'm not where I want to be, I like where I am. From taking better care of myself, to my new job that I love, and my kick ass new Roomie, I got my shit locked down tight.

Now I just need to get laid.

I REALLY, REALLY LIKE MY NEW ROOMIE

There isn't a specific act or reason why I feel so positive towards my Roommate, but HOLY SHIT - it's like night & day. My former Roomie, a.k.a. Hot Doc Guy was easy to live with, but at the same time he was more than a bit reclusive, and as such, not really that fun to live with; he pretty much stayed in his room and had little to no effect on the rest of the place.

Roomie The 4th, a.k.a. Euro Girl is a different situation all together. She already planned a party for both of her friend's for this Friday. She already integrated her random objects (tastefully so I might add) among mine, shared her homemade liquor with myself and my friends not to mention firing up her Hookah with some She-Sha (sp?) she got while backpacking in India.

And another thing...I stated before how I preferred to live with another guy, gay or not, but I think all along I really needed a female presence around me; I tend to behave better and not fuck off/be lazy as much. Interpret that as you will...I'm still trying to figure it out, but I really think this new "chapter" is the start of a positive trend.

MY NEW NEW OLD WHIP

Yeah, a 1992 Chevy S-10 Blazer is my new whip, although the term "hooptie" comes to mind. It's actually battleship grey, with HUGE gaping rust holes and an exhaust, or lack thereof that announces my eventual arrival within a 6 block radius.

And guess what? It's FUCKING DYNO-MITE! So the deal is, I'm paying my buddy (it's really his ride) the equivalent of what I would pay to use public transportation to get back/forth on the weekends. It's SO much faster.

Added bonus: not having to nervously wait for untold periods of time on a street corner near a not-so-good area at 4AM/avoiding being beaten, robbed, shot and/or stabbed (as a side note - 2 people in my neighborhood have been murdered leaving their bar jobs late at night, and my 'hood is considered one of the safest).

And get this: it's somewhat of a pussy magnet. Seriously. Last weekend I was driving to work, stuck at a stoplight in Lakeview, and these 2 girls totally hit on me, like, 3 times. Like what? Who is attracted to scrawny white guys smoking and listening to R.L. Burnside in a rusty Chevy truck?

Move along ladies! Maybe some cute boys will dig it. Probably not.

PS - It's SO much better than my future sister-in-law's Saturn.

PPS - It's mechanically similar to my awesomely trashy "dream car".

BEST-MAN-TO-BE!

Well, holy shit. Finally some awesome news! My big brother proposed to his girlfriend tonight...and she said yes! Poor girl. Kidding. This is so fucking exciting! He's dating many a lady over the years, and to be honest, most of were kinda lame. But not the one he's marrying! She's the shizzz! Brother also asked me to be his best man. Awwwwwww! Fuck, guess this means I'm gonna have to put together a bachelor party of some sort. Good thing there's no date set. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself...but damn man, how cool!

IT'S LIKE THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS!

I might be staring down the big ol' 30, but I feel like a little kid right now. The reason? WIDESPREAD MOTHERFUCKIN' PANIC tonight! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT! And to top it off, The Allman Brothers are playing too. Gawdawmn, I'm getting slightly tumescent just thinking about how fuckin' hard tonight is gonna rock. And if that wasn't enough, I'm repeating it all tomorrow night too! Oh, and did I mention the venue if the former site of Meigs Field, situated right on the Lake Michigan, with the Chicago skyline in the background? And 2 of my bestest friends will be flanking my sides. [Take a breath!] This is going to kick SO MUCH ASS. While I'm writing this I'm rawking wit da cawk out to a song called "Fishwater".

Four train days

Get me back to New Orleans

Drink more fishwater there

Than any whale's mama ever seen

Alright tonight

I've been fueling my dreams eatin greens and beans

When I get back down there

I'm gonna drink more fish stew

Than all the big fishes do

And I still want more

I still want more

More...

I still want more

Gimme tonight

Gonna dream my way on back

Spend my life down there

Down on that bourbon street

Watch my money, and mind my legs down in New Orleans

Can't tell which mens turns womens there

And which womens just turns mean

And I still want more

I still want more

More...

I still want more

I've seen Widespread Panic at least 30 times, in various locales stretching from LA to DC, and many, many places in between. It's been a t least 2 years since I last saw my boys. It's all I can do not to tap my foot incessantly. More evidence of my excitement, is the phone call I'll attempt to transcribe between my Mom and myself yesterday:

MOM: "Hey honey...someones birthday is soon..."

ME: "NO FUCKING SHIT, WIDESPREAD MOTHERFUCKIN' PANIC is coming to town tomorrow to celebrate!"

MOM: "Ahhh, that's so nice."

ME: "NO FUCKING SHIT! Allman Brothers too!"

Can you tell I'm a tad bit excited? And this lyric makes me so fucking happy "if was life was a dream money could buy, the rich would live and the poor would die." I'm mos def in the latter catergory, but guess what? I FEEL SO ALIVE!

A MONDAY LIKE NONE OTHER

Yesterday, one of my bestest/awesomest/greatest friends was in town, and despite the fact that she just went to both Phish shows up at Alpine Valley, we FUCKING RAGED last night (as a pre-condition to stay at my place, I stated she had better still be wearing her party hat once she got here).

The night began innocuously enough; a few beers in my hot-as-shit apartment (seriously, it's dark right now and still 90 degrees) and off to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner. And drinks. Lots of them. In fact, we decided to split a pitcher of margaritas, which came with 2 glasses already filled.

Needless to say, on the walk back to my place [ED NOTE: I was wearing Jorts] I stated my intention to puke in my kitchen sink. Thankfully, that did not happen. And I put on a proper pair of jeans, and off we went to seek trouble...

...which we almost ensured after ingesting some pure MDMA (aka "Molly"). Guh. I have not done hard drugs in some time. Oh man, if you got a random text from me last night saying "IM ROLLIN MY NUTS OFF", well, now you know why.

Our second destination of the night, was, regrettably Hydrate. This is the kind of $1 drink/smoke machine/2 guys blowing each other in the bathroom kind of place. In my/our defense, we were so fucked up when we choose this place. However, it was fun. For a bit.

[Side note: within 5 minutes of being there, my friend found located the textbook definition of a twink, whose name I asked, and responded by dry humping me at the bar and sticking his tongue in my mouth. That's Klassy. With a K!]

But the DJ's were horrible and despite my increasingly drug addled state, I found the drinks to be weak. We left soon thereafter, although, not before consuming more MDMA in the alley. My. God.

[If you're getting tired of these side notes, sorry. But I should mention that although I was hesitant to do poppers with a stranger a few weeks ago, I was with a friend that has never steered me wrong/given me bad shit. Plus...drugs are fun! Sometimes!]

We end up at the most baddest ass place to RAWK with one's Cock out in Chicago on a Monday night, Boom Boom Room. Holy shit. I doubted stories I've heard about this place in the past, but they have posthumously gained credibility.

Despite it being a mixed club (by that I mean it attracts nearly equal numbers of straight and gay people) I felt like I was trapped in an episode of Queer as Folk. Go-Go-Dancer Boys, Lasers trying to kill me, and such.

Oh, speaking of those lasers, around 2am I peaked and while staring at said lasers, I tried to explain to anyone that would listen, how "I CAN SEE THE LIGHT(S)!" Which meant I could literally see tiny pulses of light particles emanating from said lasers. Seriously. Like, for real.

After getting some much needed air/a smoke, I got a drink at the bar and felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, thinking it was my friend dancing, but in fact, it was a Go-Go-Boy who thought it a good idea to wrap his legs around my arms. FUCK! It kinda freaked me out, to say the least.

Soon thereafter, we closed the place out, and mercifully got a cab to take our wasted asses home. End of story!

PS - I lied. I awoke this morning totally naked, clothes all over the damn place...and decided to eat leftover deep dish pizza (with a few beers).

PPS - This might be further evidence that humans are indeed quite resilient (I actually feel great right now).

MY FAVORITE NYC BAR

When I went to New York City a year and a half ago, it was my first visit as an adult; my buddies there took it upon themselves to take me to a wide variety of bars, from fancy joints in Hell's Kitchen like Vlada, to tiny, odd places like Barracuda in Chelsea, and many others in between. But my favorite bar, by far, is a shit hole in the East Village, appropriately named Nowhere Bar.

Actually, compared to some of the bars I like in Chicago, it's not that much of a dump. Overall, I most enjoy bars that are just that, BARS. Here's my formula for the perfect bar: the room is dark with faint hints of unfocused red lighting, a large, burly and bald bartender, a pool table and a jukebox. That's it. Nothing more (see image below).

Themes/karaoke/a million fucking flat screens do not, a bar make. In fact, I'll argue that they distract from the simplicity of a true bar. I mean, really, all I really want/need out of bar is a stool to park my ass on, super-cold cans of PBR and/or Bud and generous shots of Jameson. Oh, and some man-candy to eye-fuck. And that my friends, is Nowhere Bar in a nutshell.

When I went last Sunday night, they had $2 cans of PBR, a free pool table, a bartender that force fed me at least 5 shots of Jameson (for free, natch) and an array of entertaining (and attractive) boys and girls with which to chat. It's my favorite spot on that island. And although I'm not into souvenirs, they did still have a fishbowl of NYC condoms* in the bathroom!

Old shit-hole dive bars seem to be a dying breed, a trend that troubles me deeply. I despise bars that have a dress code, or that charge a cover (like the bar I work in) or that have stupid names like G Lounge (oh! I get it! It's a gay bar! HOW FUCKING CLEVER).

Oh, and hot bartenders annoy this shit out of me; I tend to think of them as glorified strippers. I like my bartenders like I like my musicians: ugly, balding and with a husky voice (imagine Tom Waits pouring you shots...[staring into space]...man, that would be fucking sweet).

*I'll stick with my Magnums, thank you very much.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK, BITCHES

At 6AM I'll hit up a bus, then a train, then a plane to get the FUCK OUT OF DODGE! "Dodge" not really meaning Chicago, but more my apartment; after months of dealing with shit upon shit, this mini-break should be a welcome diversion. 

Catch ya'll in a week!

I MAY HAVE LOCATED THE LARGEST DICK IN THE CHICAGOLAND AREA

Sooo...last night my friend asked me to accompany her to a "ladies night" thing at a local bar. I went and assumed I would bear witness to my hot friend (seriously, she's smokin') hitting on the ladies. Maybe, I thought there would be a few cute guys there to look at. 

And there was one in particular. Total was hottie there with 2 women; he felt excluded since his female friends were mackin' on my female friend. I was all "OMG!" hottie talking to me, right? I mean, we're talking Soap Opera quality ass here. But you know what? After a 1 minute conversation, I deemed this "dreamboat" a dud. I politely excused myself to duck out for a smoke....

...and while smoking outside, I started talking to this cute, kinda preppy, tall as SHIT guy. Turns out it was his birthday. 1 jello shot (ugh) turned into 8, or 9, I don't know, but next thing I DO know, I was making out with this guy at the bar, and the lesbians around us were burning holes through us with their eyes. 

And then....WE DANCED! I fucking hate dancing. I'd almost rather get a cavity drilled (sans Novocaine) than dance in public, but I did. Fuck it. I was having (drunk) fun so I figured why not?

Well, the end of the night came, we exchanged digits, but then I suggested (more like slurred) let's watch a movie! Which we did. Kinda. About 3 minutes into "Y tu mama tambien" our pants were off...and right there...stood before me...THE BIGGEST COCK I HAVE EVER SEEN. Holy bullshit, I mean, imagine a tallboy can of beer...yeah. Like that. It caught me so off guard I reflexively stated "no way is that ever going inside of me". 

We didn't even have "sex-sex", instead we just made out and got each other off until the sun came up. I'm in mild shock, hungover (or maybe still drunk from the Jello shots) and now I have to help a friend move furniture. FUCK. 

But it's cool...cuz I got a movie date tomorrow night! WOOT. 

MY FIRST GAY WEDDING

Over the weekend I had the privilege to witness my fist gay wedding. Of course, since gay marriage is not currently legal in the state of Illinois, technically this ceremony was a "formal exchange of vows". Be that as it may, it was an official Jewish ceremony and officiated by a Rabbi ( which took place under a Chuppah, a Ketubah was signed, etc). 

The happy couple were both females; one of which (the "groom" as it were) an old friend of mine from high school (who used to ask me out to dances, haha) and her partner of 5+ years. Although there was a lull in which I was not in contact with my high school friend were years, we reunited a few years back and instantly got back into the friendship groove; what's more, I immediately LOVED her partner. 

Together, they are an amazing couple. Witty, intelligent, kind and loving are but a few of the adjectives that come to mind when I think of them both. Needless to say, when the invitation arrived in the mail I wasn't too surprised, but whoa was I excited!

The big day finally arrived this past Saturday; I was worried i wouldn't be able to attend since I don't have a car and the place was way out in the 'burbs, but I was thankfully able to secure a rental car. Of course, I arrived super early and didn't know anyone (why are people my age in capable of showing up to important events on time? I mean, doesn't being on time mean being 10-15 early? I digress...).

I had thought I was would be seated with the table of old high school friends, instead I found myself assigned to the "homosexual" table, with a gaggle of girls and one other boy (along with a single straight couple). With the exception of the couple-to-be, we were the only homo's in a room of over 100+ people.

The ceremony was punctuated with tears but much more laughter (my friend was so nervous she kept screwing up her Hebrew prayers/vows) but it was never uncomfortable; the whole atmosphere was super laid back.

My favorite part was the speeches; usually I loathe this part of any wedding, in that the words spoken, though heartfelt and honest, are predictable and tend to drag on. Not in with these 2 families. Holy Shit, I wish I could remember some of the hilarious lines that were proffered, but I do remember no one worried about using words like "pussy", "tits", "fuck", etc. Maybe the best one was how my friend never officially came out to her older brother, even though "she used to enjoy the taste of carpet for as long as I can remember". HAHAHAHA. She "foramlly" came out a moment later, saying, "hey asshole...I'M GAY!". 

Whereas the brother/sister/good friend speeches were hilarious, the parent's speeches were awe inspiring and nearly made me cry several times. There were pointed, although not angry mentions of "certain family members and friends that choose not to attend - and for them I feel sorry for them". That last line, said by my friend's father made the room stand still and heavy for moment, as if us just being there meant we weren't fucking assholes, (not that that warrants a pat on the back, those holdouts should be ashamed of themselves). 

After the speeches and after dinner, the floor was turned over the new bride so she could sing to her new partner. I should note that the bride is super talented, like, this girl has some PIPES! She sang Etta James' "At Last". Oh man, so, So, SO COOL!

While driving home I was thinking about the whole gay marriage debate; yeah, it fucking sucks and it's not fair that most governmental bodies in this country won't (at this point) recognize their marriage. At the same time, their marriage is as real as anyone else's. Not only did they join together, and promise the rest of their lives together, both families are now and forever intertwined, and that's something that no government can take away from them.   

RE-CONNECTION

Most of my bestest friends are from high school; although I have formed strong relationships with other friends that I haven't known as long, there is a special bond that exists with those from that period of time. In particular, I formed serious bonds with a group of female friends that I internally refer to as "my girls" (you know who you are - and how awesome you all are). 

However, there is one girl from this group that I lost touch with over the last few years, a fact that has been a constant source of confusion, stress and regret. None of these women live in Chicago anymore, but despite the distance between us, we have managed to keep in touch on a regular basis. Perhaps it's because this one woman in particular lives all the way in Alaska, we have not been in such constant contact. Although that's not the only reason.

One day, years ago I got a panicky phone call from this one woman's sister, saying there had been an "accident". Naturally, I freaked the FUCK right out, but I was assured that everything would be OK. Here's a bit of background.

My friend, let's call her Pam (Note to Gloria, was that an odd choice?) had been living in Alaska for a few years. Her older brother (who in fact is a good friend of my older brother) got a job captaining a whale watching boat for the summer, delivering a slice of "authentic" wilderness to rich tourists. He hired his little sister Pam as a deckhand on his boat...

One day, they were in the process of docking said boat; one of Pam's duties was to throw the lines to anchor the boat to the pier. On this fateful day the waters were a bit rough, and well, Pam fell and got pinned between the hull of the boat and a pylon. I'll spare you the HORRIFIC fucking details and the extent of her injuries, but they were serious, as I am sure you can imagine. 

Thank God she wasn't paralyzed or worse; still, this unfortunate accident precipitated a slow decline in her mental state of mind, and being 8 million miles from home, in a land where the sun barely comes up for months and months at a time...well, I think she handled it better than I would have.

Still, after the accident she seemed to cut herself off from her friends, myself included. Calls and e-mails went ignored and it seemed that no one had any idea how she was doing. I wasn't alone in stopping after months and months of trying to communicate with Pam, but I didn't give up hope. 

[Ed note: Here's the happy ending to this story] A few weeks ago I was speaking with a mutual friend of Pam's and mine. On a lark I asked this friend if she still had a phone number for Pam. She did, and as soon as we hung up, I took a deep breath and dialed her up, not thinking anything would come of it...well, on the second ring she picked up! 

Oh man, that's THE phone call of the year for me. Not only was it so GREAT to hear her voice, I heard another voice, in the form of her newborn daughter sitting in her lap as we spoke. Any awkwardness of us not having spoke in years was quickly dissipated by our mutual happiness just be talking again and to be able to catch up. 

Oh, and a great thing about having a friend living that far out west, is that I can drunk dial her at 2AM, like I did last night, and be able to talk with her about nothing in particular. Just shoot the shit for a awhile. And then today I got an e-mail from Pam with this line "I miss you Justin, I almost called you right back after we hung up just to tell you how happy I was to talk to you."

AWWWW! Man, I miss the shit out of her right now. Had I the means to buy an insanely expensive airline ticket, I'd have already made plans to be in Juneau in 2 months time. As it stands, she'll be back in Chicago by July, with her husband and daughter in tow. I can't wait.

PS - To my other GIRLS - I can't wait to see you all soon, one in particular next week!

MY BOY LOUIS!

You might not know this about me, but I'm a WHORE for architecture, which today lead me to the grave of my favorite building artist...Louis Sullivan!

Poor guy died lonely, drunk and penniless. And not properly respected! I'm trying to do my part in that my next tattoo will be one of his design! More on that soon...

Overall, I must say that spending a sun-filled afternoon in a Victorian Era cemetery is a lovely way to pass the time! GO GRACELAND!

I WANT HOMEWORK!

Today I was thinking about my blog and whoever reads this shit. Specifically, I am curious if anyone has any suggestions about what I might write that people might enjoy/appreciate. So, please...suggest away!

I want homework! If there is anything you might be interested in reading what I might write, hit me up! In the meantime, here's a picture of Mickey Mouse performing an act of sodomy on my person. Perhaps that could spark some ideas. Maybe not...

MY SENTIMENTS EXACTLY...

Although I cannot take credit for the comments embedded within the above image, I can say that I love that my friend "Mohawk" is such a clever guy. The other night I simply threw a pen at him, and asked him to write something on the front page of the Tribune; within 15 seconds he produced this. In case you cannot read the word bubbles:

OBAMA: "The rebels, have they been CRUSHED?"

RAHM: "YES SIRE!"

OBAMA: "Good, then the plans for the left-wing conspiracy can proceed!" 

YES YOU CAN!

Ever since I checked off Obama's name on that ballot on Tuesday, my nipples have been rock hard. Fuck glass. I could cut high tensile steel with these boys, which is another of saying that I am SO FUCKING EXCITED THAT HE DID IT! Whew.

Not that it was huge surprise, but it was a huge relief. Now I can move on with my life. Speaking of which, I have a few "favors" to ask of President-Elect Obama (oops! there go those nipples again). Here goes:

Dear President-Elect Obama,

First off, CONGRATULATIONS! I am so happy that you won that I've lost control of my nipples! WOOT!

Now...let's get down to brass nipp...er, tacks.

The nation is in turmoil. Everyone is broke. And Frank Caliendo still has a TV show. We need CHANGE and we need it fast. That being said, I realize that real change takes time for it become effective. So while I'm waiting for the Iraq War to end and for our economy to get out of the shitter, here are a few small things you could do for me to make the time go by a bit faster.

First off, seeing as I'm broke, single and unemployed, I watch a lot of TV. A LOT. Gawd, I would have thought that I would have gotten bored with watching "No Reservations" and "Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares" by now, but no. Still watching!

You know what would improve the quality of my television watching? Well, a Samsung 102" Plasma TV would do the trick. Sure, I know that $45,000 is a lot for a TV, but I figure you have some leftover campaign money that's gathering dust. Not sure if that's legal? Here's a newsflash, you're the new head cheese. You can do it. YES YOU CAN!

Another thing that single, unemployed people tend to do is watch porn. Lot's of it. I think might have seen every single video on XTube. Twice. What this country needs in it's time of need is quality gay porn. Make that hard core quality gay porn.

Let me pitch you my idea: Brady Quinn and Grady Sizemore. Fucking. For 60 minutes. That's it. If you want to get all artistic and shit maybe you can add some background music. I suggest Lovage's "Stroker Ace". You can do it. YES YOU CAN!

OK, so this is an either/or kind of a request. As I mentioned earlier, I am in need of work. I see here in the news that Governor Blagojevich is allowed to appoint your replacement in the Senate. Well, I got shit else to do! Seriously man, put in a good word for me with Blaggo. Seeing as he has the IQ of a dildo, he's gonna need suggestions. You're a compelling speaker. I need a job. You can do it. YES YOU CAN!

Short of that, think you could hook me up with a pool table?

Thanks,

Justin (the one in Chicago)

EVIDENCE "CHASE THE DARK CLOUDS AWAY"

My life makes me happy...

My music makes me happy...

My people make me happy...



And it's mine... and I ain't happy-go-lucky
It's just today the world don't feel ugly