Saturday, June 05, 2004
Friday, June 04, 2004
Yahoo search:
married bitches who like to fuck
From what I understand, that's a contradiction in terms.
married bitches who like to fuck
From what I understand, that's a contradiction in terms.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Yes, I know, that's not who they're talking about
If you pay attention to this stuff and/or care, you've already heard about this. This was a long time coming, in one way or another.
... there was immediate speculation that there was much more behind the departure...
Oh yeah? I wouldn't expect there to be any kind of questions about a move like this. One big question for me is, who does TB blame for all their fuck-ups now that Clinton's guy is gone?
One cool thing is that John McLaughlin is (at least temporarily) in charge. No one will pull any shit on his watch, like trying to sell bad intelligence on WMDs. If anyone tries anything, he'll just look at them and yell WRONG!!!!.
... there was immediate speculation that there was much more behind the departure...
Oh yeah? I wouldn't expect there to be any kind of questions about a move like this. One big question for me is, who does TB blame for all their fuck-ups now that Clinton's guy is gone?
One cool thing is that John McLaughlin is (at least temporarily) in charge. No one will pull any shit on his watch, like trying to sell bad intelligence on WMDs. If anyone tries anything, he'll just look at them and yell WRONG!!!!.
And you think I have anger issues Part II
Another google searcher who is clearly unhappy:
FUCK! GOD! FUCK RELIGION! FUCK MEAT EATING!
Might as well air all your grievances to Google at once.
FUCK! GOD! FUCK RELIGION! FUCK MEAT EATING!
Might as well air all your grievances to Google at once.
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
I'd like to think that we have separation of church and state, but we don't. Although if they can use things like this to chip away at the tax exempt status of some churches (as we were discussing this weekend), at least that's pretty fucking neat.
Hey, I'm all for 11-year-olds dressing more modestly. No, really. Especially ones like Ella, because she's not all that hot. Okay, seriously now. It should definitely be another one to two years before they start dressing like whores to attract lechers like me. So much for "serious." Or, well, fuck it. Nevermind.
While reading that article, I kept saying to myself "Where is it. Where is it."
... with 37 other girls belonging to a Roman Catholic youth organization.
There it is. I just knew that something like this had Jesus behind it. I can't help it; even if it's a good cause, finding out that religion is what's driving it just kind of ruins things for me. Okay, not all the time. There is, of course, the irony of how I complain about the religious being uptight and all, but if not for them, we wouldn't have Catholic schoolgirls and those wonderful outfits. Like I said before, there's always tradeoffs.
While reading that article, I kept saying to myself "Where is it. Where is it."
... with 37 other girls belonging to a Roman Catholic youth organization.
There it is. I just knew that something like this had Jesus behind it. I can't help it; even if it's a good cause, finding out that religion is what's driving it just kind of ruins things for me. Okay, not all the time. There is, of course, the irony of how I complain about the religious being uptight and all, but if not for them, we wouldn't have Catholic schoolgirls and those wonderful outfits. Like I said before, there's always tradeoffs.
Hell yes I love it. Had this link sent to me by a certain misfit. I think John sent me a link to that some time ago, but I don't think I ever linked it here. Well, I'm linking it now, god damn it. Also, if you're either too lazy or unobservant to follow the link on that page, you need to check this out. Well, unless of course if you're a big fan of Jesus, or at least one of those people who's all tight-assed about him.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Things to do in Chicago when you're alive
A quick rundown of some other places we hit in terms of shopping and entertainment ensues. ETP already covered a lot of this in a post he did, but if you're not used to repetition around here, you never will be.
Mitsuwa Marketplace
Formerly known as Yaohan. The only way to get there is by successive approximation. This works as follows:
Here's a tip: if someone is giving out free samples of roasted chestnuts (or whatever the fuck they were), you're not supposed to try and eat the hard outer shell unless you want to lacerate your intestines. Also, trying to spit that fucker out once you've realized this is not going to be a very successful endeavor.
Woodfield Mall
Woodfield is out in the suburb of Schaumburg. Woodfield is big. My sources tell me it is the biggest mall out there in terms of retail space. The Mall of America is bigger in terms of overall size, but that's because it has a fucking rollercoaster in it. I don't want a rollercoaster. I'm a pussy, and I hate rollercoasters. I want to fucking shop. And shop you can at Woodfield. There's nothing all that special or unique, but there is lots of it. I have to bow down to the sheer size of it. After all, the fucking place doesn't have levels, it has tiers. It also has Talbots.
Michigan Avenue AKA "The Magnificent Mile"
Walking along Michigan Avenue is like being wrapped inside joy. No, wait, that was the Nexus in Star Trek Generations. But Michigan Avenue is close. Tons and tons of places to shop. Entire fucking malls inside buildings you didn't realize could house an entire mall. If you like to shop, you had better just set an entire day aside for Michigan Ave. If you don't like shopping, then stay the fuck home, because we don't need your dead weight.
Our afternoon on Michigan Avenue did remind us, however, that there are always plenty of fucked up people out there. One of the first things we did was hit a food court so that we could keep from dying. As I've mentioned, BOETP doesn't eat much. As such, some of her baked potato from lunch was destined for the garbage. However, destiny was derailed by some creepy guy who comes up to her and says "Are you going to throw that out? That's good food! Praise the lord!" That's... Fantastic. It wasn't some transient or anything, just some dorky looking white guy who obviously needs to be put away.
Other than that, though, Michigan Avenue is good times. That bloody place even got me to buy something from the Gap. I hate the Gap, having moral issues with it akin to bootleg anime soundtracks, but they had a really nice jacket I wanted. So you know what? Fuck morals, I look good in this thing. I don't know what it is with me, but I have this really weird thing for buying jackets and coats. Oh, wait, I know what that thing is - a compulsive spending habit. Still, I always have this need to buy new jackets. Jackets which, of course, I hardly get to wear since I usually get them towards the end of the season. You see, in addition to being a compulsive spender, I'm also stupid.
The only time Michigan Avenue isn't good times (aside from Creepy Guy, of course) is if you want to go to the Tribune Store on Sunday, because it's closed on Sundays. Man, fuck the Lord's day. Now I have to wait yet another trip to get one of those Chicago Tribune toy trucks. Also, keep in mind that when on Michigan Avenue, you're going to be doing lots of walking. As such, if you're going to buy a large item - like, say, a Hello Kitty doll house - you may want to make that purchase towards the end (no, the doll house was not for me, but yes, I was tempted to see if they had another one in the back). You will survive, however, and come away with huge guns. You'll survive even if you're some 80-year-old cunt who is willing to walk a billion miles to shop Michigan Ave. but you'll still use the elevator to save the trouble of walking up ONE flight of stairs. I hate people who do that, and it helps to make fun of those people while other people are doing the exact same thing.
The Art Institute of Chicago
We had planned to hit at least two, maybe three museums while in Chicago. Naturally, we only hit one. Actually, I guess I should be surprised that we managed to hit any at all. Just being in Chicago had us at 7%, or at least damn near that mark. The Art Institute is yet another place you need to devote a full day to, if not several full days. Naturally (really this time) we failed to do this. We wasted a bunch of time looking at paintings we didn't care about (well, they're neat and all, but we'd fucking seen them before), and then had to hit the other stuff we wanted to see lightning round-style.
One thing I made sure to hit (once I remembered it, that is) was the Thorne Miniature Rooms. Now, my fetish for miniatures is well documented, and this exhibit is right up my alley. They're basically glorified doll houses (I'm detecting a theme here), and the detail in these things is fucking amazing.
This was my second time to the Institute, and my second time of completely fucking up the scheduling of my visit. Next time, god damn it. Next time.
Alright, I'm getting towards the end of the stuff from Chicago, which is already two weeks behind me, so you're almost spared from having to hear more bullshit about my trip. Almost, because there are still a couple of posts to go. Unless, of course, if I think of anything not currently on my list.
Mitsuwa Marketplace
Formerly known as Yaohan. The only way to get there is by successive approximation. This works as follows:
- Someone says "Hey, let's go to that Asian Mall."
- Someone else says "Okay, where is it?"
- First person says "Somewhere on the west side of town, I think. Algonquin road."
- Third person says "I think it's in Arlington Heights."
- First person concurs.
- Consult the atlas - figure out how the fuck to get to Algonquin road in Arlington Heights.
- When finally getting off the highway, turn in the exact opposite direction of where you're supposed to be going.
- Admire the campuses of companies like Motorola while catching a glimpse of half-million dollar townhomes and hating your life back in Colorado.
- Have someone (most preferably the one who spent lots of time living in the Chicago area) realize that things should be getting more city-like as we drive as opposed to less.
- Turn around.
- Have some chicks, dicks, and bunnies as you curse yourself for nearly making it back home.
- Find your way back to civilization, a process which includes trying to locate a White Castle because you're all hungry.
- Fail to find White Castle, saving that joy for another day.
- Find your way to a section of town where the businesses have an Asian theme to them.
- Find a large building and pull into the parking lot, only to realize it's just an Asian grocery store.
- Continue on down the road until you realize you're well past the commercial sector. Turn your ass around and go to a gas station so that you can check the fucking phone book.
- Buy a $20 guide to Chicago, then just look in the goddamn phonebook which tells you everything you need to know to find the Asian Mall. Or at least, Asahiya bookstore, which is in the mall.
- You know that grocery store you were at 20 minutes ago? That wasn't a regular grocery store. It was your fucking destination.
- Return to the "grocery store" along with your riding companion, shame.
Here's a tip: if someone is giving out free samples of roasted chestnuts (or whatever the fuck they were), you're not supposed to try and eat the hard outer shell unless you want to lacerate your intestines. Also, trying to spit that fucker out once you've realized this is not going to be a very successful endeavor.
Woodfield Mall
Woodfield is out in the suburb of Schaumburg. Woodfield is big. My sources tell me it is the biggest mall out there in terms of retail space. The Mall of America is bigger in terms of overall size, but that's because it has a fucking rollercoaster in it. I don't want a rollercoaster. I'm a pussy, and I hate rollercoasters. I want to fucking shop. And shop you can at Woodfield. There's nothing all that special or unique, but there is lots of it. I have to bow down to the sheer size of it. After all, the fucking place doesn't have levels, it has tiers. It also has Talbots.
Michigan Avenue AKA "The Magnificent Mile"
Walking along Michigan Avenue is like being wrapped inside joy. No, wait, that was the Nexus in Star Trek Generations. But Michigan Avenue is close. Tons and tons of places to shop. Entire fucking malls inside buildings you didn't realize could house an entire mall. If you like to shop, you had better just set an entire day aside for Michigan Ave. If you don't like shopping, then stay the fuck home, because we don't need your dead weight.
Our afternoon on Michigan Avenue did remind us, however, that there are always plenty of fucked up people out there. One of the first things we did was hit a food court so that we could keep from dying. As I've mentioned, BOETP doesn't eat much. As such, some of her baked potato from lunch was destined for the garbage. However, destiny was derailed by some creepy guy who comes up to her and says "Are you going to throw that out? That's good food! Praise the lord!" That's... Fantastic. It wasn't some transient or anything, just some dorky looking white guy who obviously needs to be put away.
Other than that, though, Michigan Avenue is good times. That bloody place even got me to buy something from the Gap. I hate the Gap, having moral issues with it akin to bootleg anime soundtracks, but they had a really nice jacket I wanted. So you know what? Fuck morals, I look good in this thing. I don't know what it is with me, but I have this really weird thing for buying jackets and coats. Oh, wait, I know what that thing is - a compulsive spending habit. Still, I always have this need to buy new jackets. Jackets which, of course, I hardly get to wear since I usually get them towards the end of the season. You see, in addition to being a compulsive spender, I'm also stupid.
The only time Michigan Avenue isn't good times (aside from Creepy Guy, of course) is if you want to go to the Tribune Store on Sunday, because it's closed on Sundays. Man, fuck the Lord's day. Now I have to wait yet another trip to get one of those Chicago Tribune toy trucks. Also, keep in mind that when on Michigan Avenue, you're going to be doing lots of walking. As such, if you're going to buy a large item - like, say, a Hello Kitty doll house - you may want to make that purchase towards the end (no, the doll house was not for me, but yes, I was tempted to see if they had another one in the back). You will survive, however, and come away with huge guns. You'll survive even if you're some 80-year-old cunt who is willing to walk a billion miles to shop Michigan Ave. but you'll still use the elevator to save the trouble of walking up ONE flight of stairs. I hate people who do that, and it helps to make fun of those people while other people are doing the exact same thing.
The Art Institute of Chicago
We had planned to hit at least two, maybe three museums while in Chicago. Naturally, we only hit one. Actually, I guess I should be surprised that we managed to hit any at all. Just being in Chicago had us at 7%, or at least damn near that mark. The Art Institute is yet another place you need to devote a full day to, if not several full days. Naturally (really this time) we failed to do this. We wasted a bunch of time looking at paintings we didn't care about (well, they're neat and all, but we'd fucking seen them before), and then had to hit the other stuff we wanted to see lightning round-style.
One thing I made sure to hit (once I remembered it, that is) was the Thorne Miniature Rooms. Now, my fetish for miniatures is well documented, and this exhibit is right up my alley. They're basically glorified doll houses (I'm detecting a theme here), and the detail in these things is fucking amazing.
This was my second time to the Institute, and my second time of completely fucking up the scheduling of my visit. Next time, god damn it. Next time.
Alright, I'm getting towards the end of the stuff from Chicago, which is already two weeks behind me, so you're almost spared from having to hear more bullshit about my trip. Almost, because there are still a couple of posts to go. Unless, of course, if I think of anything not currently on my list.
Yahoo search:
dave attel nude
I am rapidly becoming the place people turn to for naughty pictures of people you wouldn't expect others to be looking for naughty pictures of.
"There's me, then I have a midget friend, and an albino friend. Together, we call ourselves The Unfuckables."
- Dave Attell
dave attel nude
I am rapidly becoming the place people turn to for naughty pictures of people you wouldn't expect others to be looking for naughty pictures of.
"There's me, then I have a midget friend, and an albino friend. Together, we call ourselves The Unfuckables."
- Dave Attell
Monday, May 31, 2004
This here shows one of the biggest problems with liberals: no sense of organization. Conservatives get shit done (they "get up for breakfast" as Bill Maher says) while liberals either just sit there or run themselves in circles.
I haven't listened to a whole lot of Air America radio. Partly because it's not yet airing on any radio stations here so that I can listen during the day at work when I typically listen to radio. This leaves me to listen to it online, and I usually just plain forget.
The only show I've listened to so far is The O'Franken Factor, a show which offers exactly what you'd expect from the author of The Liberal Operations Bible (AKA Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot and Other Observations). Which isn't bad, because I like Al Franken. Die hard liberal for sure, but he's funny.
The rest of the network is also far from fair & balanced, but that's perfectly okay since there was never any bullshit pretense about being anything but left-wing. It's got some pretty entertaining stuff, which garners points in my book. I'm all for anyone who can do whatever they want to do and be funny about it. It's entertainment. In the end, that's what news and talk radio is about. Their primary function isn't to inform, it's to entertain.
I haven't listened to a whole lot of Air America radio. Partly because it's not yet airing on any radio stations here so that I can listen during the day at work when I typically listen to radio. This leaves me to listen to it online, and I usually just plain forget.
The only show I've listened to so far is The O'Franken Factor, a show which offers exactly what you'd expect from the author of The Liberal Operations Bible (AKA Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot and Other Observations). Which isn't bad, because I like Al Franken. Die hard liberal for sure, but he's funny.
The rest of the network is also far from fair & balanced, but that's perfectly okay since there was never any bullshit pretense about being anything but left-wing. It's got some pretty entertaining stuff, which garners points in my book. I'm all for anyone who can do whatever they want to do and be funny about it. It's entertainment. In the end, that's what news and talk radio is about. Their primary function isn't to inform, it's to entertain.
Don't you hate it when you think of a great comeback or joke when it's way too late? I was just reading the Fe 2003 Year in Review (not to be confused with the Fe One-Year Anniversary Extravaganza Non-Extravaganza), and thought of something that amused me:
Biggest Asshole
Sylvia Saint
Anyone familiar with Sylvia Saint's body of work will get that joke.
Biggest Asshole
Sylvia Saint
Anyone familiar with Sylvia Saint's body of work will get that joke.
Even though I don't have respect for my fellow man
When going to the beach, I think the only rule you need to follow is one laid out by Drew Carey: "If you don't have a nice body, cover it the fuck up." Also, be a good guy like Drew: "When I go to the beach, I don't wear a Speedo because I have respect for my fellow man."
I'm sick and tired of this debate. I can promise you that something similar to the following two conversations took place:
Inside Dick Cheney's head:
"You know, I'd love to help out my friends over at Halliburton, but that's a conflict of interest. Conflicts of interest are bad, just like my buddy Antonin always says."
Inside Halliburton:
"You know, our ex-CEO is vice president of the United States. Vice fucking president. I wish there was some way we could use that to our advantage over in Iraq. You know, at least put in a phone call or something to help grease the wheels. But no, we couldn't do that. That's wrong."
This is such a non-issue. After all, there'd be nothing in it for Cheney since he covered hisass bases by donating his options to charity (or whatever the fuck a charitable trust is and whoever the recipient is). I mean, if he's not making money off it, there couldn't be any other benefits, right? Meanwhile, Halliburton wouldn't risk doing something like this just to make a buck; getting some kind of edge to beat out the competition and make money isn't what business is about. Furthermore, it's ridiculous that someone like Dick Cheney or a company like Halliburton would do something so wreckless because it'd be obvious to everyone what was going on. After all, Dick Cheney doesn't think the American people are stupid, and we aren't stupid.
Inside Dick Cheney's head:
"You know, I'd love to help out my friends over at Halliburton, but that's a conflict of interest. Conflicts of interest are bad, just like my buddy Antonin always says."
Inside Halliburton:
"You know, our ex-CEO is vice president of the United States. Vice fucking president. I wish there was some way we could use that to our advantage over in Iraq. You know, at least put in a phone call or something to help grease the wheels. But no, we couldn't do that. That's wrong."
This is such a non-issue. After all, there'd be nothing in it for Cheney since he covered his
Here's another site that will get you into trouble if you're like me: eic-book.com. I'm basically passing this on in hopes that it will ruin one or two other lives like it is helping do to mine. I keep coming across all kinds of shit that has me saying "I didn't know there was a photobook of her. Fuck. And you need it." Now, unlike Amazon Japan they don't (as far as I can tell) have ordering in English. They are, however, kind enough (or big enough assholes) to give info like ISBNs, which I can take over to Amazon Japan to find what I desire (aside from popcorn necklaces).
Ordering from Amazon Japan is money. Literally. I much prefer to order photobooks from them as opposed to JList now. I've placed a few Amazon orders thus far, usually getting around four books at a time for around $130 - including shipping. Usually, four books over at JList ends up being around that price if not more before shipping. Speaking of shipping, Amazon offers fast shipping via DHL. So, if shit's in stock, those with no sense of self-gratification (again, like me) can order shit at the beginning of the week and have it delivered by the end of the week if things are in stock. I can typically find what I want, too. Thanks to places like EIC, I'm finding shit I didn't even know I wanted but knew I'd want if I knew it existed, which it apparently does.
These fucking Japanese sites could make a killing if they'd learn to cater to gaijin a little more. I mean, it's not like they aren't already making a killing, but as any corporate crook will tell you, you can never have too much money. I know there are lots of dumbfucks like me who are just dying to drop cash for this stuff, only most people probably aren't willing to become marginally proficient at shopping in a nonsensical language. I need to find some way to tap into that so I can make my stupid habits self-sustaining.
Ordering from Amazon Japan is money. Literally. I much prefer to order photobooks from them as opposed to JList now. I've placed a few Amazon orders thus far, usually getting around four books at a time for around $130 - including shipping. Usually, four books over at JList ends up being around that price if not more before shipping. Speaking of shipping, Amazon offers fast shipping via DHL. So, if shit's in stock, those with no sense of self-gratification (again, like me) can order shit at the beginning of the week and have it delivered by the end of the week if things are in stock. I can typically find what I want, too. Thanks to places like EIC, I'm finding shit I didn't even know I wanted but knew I'd want if I knew it existed, which it apparently does.
These fucking Japanese sites could make a killing if they'd learn to cater to gaijin a little more. I mean, it's not like they aren't already making a killing, but as any corporate crook will tell you, you can never have too much money. I know there are lots of dumbfucks like me who are just dying to drop cash for this stuff, only most people probably aren't willing to become marginally proficient at shopping in a nonsensical language. I need to find some way to tap into that so I can make my stupid habits self-sustaining.
Fuck the Sears Tower
I have a vendetta against that building. I'm not going to fly a plane into it or anything, but I'm still pissed at it. Why? Why else? Because of something stupid.
When I was in Chicago about a year and a half ago, we wanted to hit the observation deck at the Sears Tower. I know - fucking tourists. I hate those people. Anyway, it's fairly late at night, but not that late. We get there, only to find out that it's closed. What the fuck? I hate shit that's closed, especially at night. No thanks to the asshole cab driver who didn't tell us that it wasn't open. C'mon, he fucking works in that town, he should know.
Anyway, that's why I hate the Sears Tower. The Hancock building, on the other hand - that's where it's at. We hit the Signature Lounge on Saturday night. It's on the 95th or 96th floor, offers a gorgeous view of the city, and is a perfect place for getting hammered.
That's pretty much it. Just an excuse to say "eff you" to the Sears Tower, and to give a shoutout to The 'Cock, who is my friend.
When I was in Chicago about a year and a half ago, we wanted to hit the observation deck at the Sears Tower. I know - fucking tourists. I hate those people. Anyway, it's fairly late at night, but not that late. We get there, only to find out that it's closed. What the fuck? I hate shit that's closed, especially at night. No thanks to the asshole cab driver who didn't tell us that it wasn't open. C'mon, he fucking works in that town, he should know.
Anyway, that's why I hate the Sears Tower. The Hancock building, on the other hand - that's where it's at. We hit the Signature Lounge on Saturday night. It's on the 95th or 96th floor, offers a gorgeous view of the city, and is a perfect place for getting hammered.
That's pretty much it. Just an excuse to say "eff you" to the Sears Tower, and to give a shoutout to The 'Cock, who is my friend.
We're in Cicero.
Continuing with part of that last post where I was berating BOETP, I'm sure it will come as no surprise that I am awful to that poor girl. She's a good sport about it since she knows I'm just fucking around. Little does she know that, ah, nevermind. Anyway, that's just how I am. I tend to treat the people I care about like shit. So you can only imagine how I treat the people I don't like. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding. I'm rarely shitty to the people I don't like because I'm a huge pussy. No, I talk about them behind their backs - like a real man.
But yeah, I'm hard on those I love. I'm kinda like that obnoxious little shit on the playground who used to tease you and pull your hair, but only because he actually liked you and didn't know how to deal with it. Only now I'm all grown up, err, older but still the same height. Just as ugly, just as obnoxious. But people usually catch on that that's how I am.
So yeah, I gave BOETP all kinds of shit when we were in Chicago. Pretty much anything that went wrong was her fault. And why shouldn't it have been? Us guys can't fucking think straight, and she goddamn grew up there. C'mon, transplant!
Okay, sure, we all fucked up a lot of things on the trip. For example, ETP forgot to buy munchkin insurance before we left. I forgot to bring the fully clothed nurse. BOETP didn't bring her strapon. If only that had been her only failure of the vacation.
The thing I gave her the most shit about was directions. I mean, honestly. She grew up there, and it's not like Chicago is big or anything, so she should have all the streets and locations memorized cold. But oh no, that was asking too much.
Honestly, I don't know why she hasn't told ETP to just stop hanging out with me. Kidding or otherwise, I'm really a bad person.
Okay, I'll get off that for now. But I'll continue with the theme of directions. See, we wanted to find ourselves a liquor store so that we'd be able to get plowed in our hotel rooms Sunday night. Apparently, though, there are only about two liquor stores in the Chicago area. This too was a disaster, as it led us through, shall we say, a bad part of town. In Chicago! What are the odds that we'd land in one of those? There are cop cars flying by, shit's all over the streets. But I was like, hey, with all these cops close by, what could go wrong? So yeah, there we were, a trio of pussies rolling through it all and trying not to die.
You see, I grew up on the mean streets of the Denver suburbs, and let me tell 'ya, that prepares you for NOTHING. But we managed to get out of wherever the hell we were, I managed to not get on the Eisenhower Expressway, and landed us in, yup, Cicero. But you know, I wouldn't have done that if... Oh, right. Nevermind.
But yeah, I'm hard on those I love. I'm kinda like that obnoxious little shit on the playground who used to tease you and pull your hair, but only because he actually liked you and didn't know how to deal with it. Only now I'm all grown up, err, older but still the same height. Just as ugly, just as obnoxious. But people usually catch on that that's how I am.
So yeah, I gave BOETP all kinds of shit when we were in Chicago. Pretty much anything that went wrong was her fault. And why shouldn't it have been? Us guys can't fucking think straight, and she goddamn grew up there. C'mon, transplant!
Okay, sure, we all fucked up a lot of things on the trip. For example, ETP forgot to buy munchkin insurance before we left. I forgot to bring the fully clothed nurse. BOETP didn't bring her strapon. If only that had been her only failure of the vacation.
The thing I gave her the most shit about was directions. I mean, honestly. She grew up there, and it's not like Chicago is big or anything, so she should have all the streets and locations memorized cold. But oh no, that was asking too much.
Honestly, I don't know why she hasn't told ETP to just stop hanging out with me. Kidding or otherwise, I'm really a bad person.
Okay, I'll get off that for now. But I'll continue with the theme of directions. See, we wanted to find ourselves a liquor store so that we'd be able to get plowed in our hotel rooms Sunday night. Apparently, though, there are only about two liquor stores in the Chicago area. This too was a disaster, as it led us through, shall we say, a bad part of town. In Chicago! What are the odds that we'd land in one of those? There are cop cars flying by, shit's all over the streets. But I was like, hey, with all these cops close by, what could go wrong? So yeah, there we were, a trio of pussies rolling through it all and trying not to die.
You see, I grew up on the mean streets of the Denver suburbs, and let me tell 'ya, that prepares you for NOTHING. But we managed to get out of wherever the hell we were, I managed to not get on the Eisenhower Expressway, and landed us in, yup, Cicero. But you know, I wouldn't have done that if... Oh, right. Nevermind.
White Castle fries only come in one size
Okay, I had better bang out some posts about my stupid Chicago vacation that no one gives a fuck about before I forget everything that happened on the trip (dooode). In this installment: food.
We had three main objectives in Chicago: shopping, eating, and shopping. On the eating front, making sure to get some good pizza was a no-brainer. This we did. Twice. Friday night we hit Lou Malnatti's. This place was pretty good, but for me doesn't compare to my favorite (thus far): Gino's East. I think the key thing there is the crust. I'm not a big crust guy; it's usually just fucking bread that interferes with all the cheese and grease and crap that I actually want to eat. The crust at Gino's, however, is an event in and of itself. Couple that with great sauce and you're not the same after eating there... You're changed.
Probably the biggest disaster of the entire trip was White Castle. For any of you who have ever been to a White Castle, you know what the fuck's up. For those unfamiliar with White Castle, it's this fast food chain that's known for selling mini-hamburgers. For some reason, ETP and I had romanticized and hyped the WC for a long, long time. Okay, three reasons. One was that we had been eating those disgusting little "meat" things for years here at home since you can buy them frozen from the grocery store. For some reason, they make for a decent snack. Honestly, though, if you actually look at one of them, they're pretty disgusting. Drown them in enough ketchup, though, and they're good. I don't understand it myself, really.
The second reason we needed to go to White Castle was because I went there when my family visited Chicago around 15 years ago. I had to go back; it was almost like a homecoming. All these years of school and bullshit weren't so that I could graduate and get a good job. No, it was all so that I could get back to White Castle.
The third and most important reason is the Beastie Boys. There's that one song where they have a line about how, that's right, "White Castle fries only come in one size." Now, you'd think that taking some kind of culinary cue from the Beastie Boys would set off some kind of alarms, but oh no, ETP and I are stupid. So we were determined to hit White Castle. On our way out of town, we finally made our move.
We go in, and sure enough, just as the legends had told us, White Castle fries were indeed available in only one size. Oh man, were we stoked. There was the option of Chez fries, but fuck it, we're going traditional, $1.50 or not. We kinda fucked up and ended up ordering like 14 of those little hamburgers. They fucked up our order and gave us maybe 11, but still, that's (theoretically) a lot between three people. Accounting for how much BOETP eats (which attributes to her weighing about 13 pounds), that's around ten-and-a-half burgers between ETP and I. No big deal, though, since we're very capable when it comes to food.
Oh, except for the fact that when you take a good, hard look at this food, it's pretty fucking awful. The one-size fries look like they came from the frozen foods section of the grocery store, and the hamburgers, well, we know for a FACT that they are available at the grocery store. Couple in the fact that the buns absorb the, uh, meat, ah, juices, and it's really, really horrible. It was like our own little fast food Holocaust sitting right there in front of us.
After about two burgers each for ETP and I, we were just looking at each other, the shame so thick you could cut it with a knife. What the hell have we done? What should we do? Well, we actually spent several minutes contemplating just throwing everything out. This was a turning point in all our lives, I think. The height of decadence. We're sitting there with a meal in front of us that we paid for, with people starving all over the world, and we're about to toss it.
"I'm done." That's pretty much all it took for ETP to say and it was over. We tossed everything remaining, got the hell out of there, and went down the street to Portillos.
Portillos is pretty fucking good. It's a fast food-type joint that serves good hot dogs, some other stuff, and oh yes, Italian beef sandwiches. That was pretty good. A nice, big, hot helping of Italian beef. Bit by bit going into my mouth, sliding down my throat. Ummm, I think I'm kinda losing focus here. It was really good; don't let the homoeroticism fuck 'ya up.
Anyway, the decision to abort White Castle in the first frymester was a good call, and going to Portillos was a nice save. If by "save" you mean "waste," of course, but fuck it. We're assholes and we know it. I think it was worth it, though. That short span of time was quite possibly the fucking funniest half-hour ever. The kind of shit that they'll sing songs about some day.
Just like with pretty much everything else, I berated BOETP for not stopping us from going to White Castle in the first place. I mean, after all, she fucking grew up in Chicago. Shouldn't she have known better? As it turns out, she didn't know better because her parents would never go to White Castle, and now we know why.
We had three main objectives in Chicago: shopping, eating, and shopping. On the eating front, making sure to get some good pizza was a no-brainer. This we did. Twice. Friday night we hit Lou Malnatti's. This place was pretty good, but for me doesn't compare to my favorite (thus far): Gino's East. I think the key thing there is the crust. I'm not a big crust guy; it's usually just fucking bread that interferes with all the cheese and grease and crap that I actually want to eat. The crust at Gino's, however, is an event in and of itself. Couple that with great sauce and you're not the same after eating there... You're changed.
Probably the biggest disaster of the entire trip was White Castle. For any of you who have ever been to a White Castle, you know what the fuck's up. For those unfamiliar with White Castle, it's this fast food chain that's known for selling mini-hamburgers. For some reason, ETP and I had romanticized and hyped the WC for a long, long time. Okay, three reasons. One was that we had been eating those disgusting little "meat" things for years here at home since you can buy them frozen from the grocery store. For some reason, they make for a decent snack. Honestly, though, if you actually look at one of them, they're pretty disgusting. Drown them in enough ketchup, though, and they're good. I don't understand it myself, really.
The second reason we needed to go to White Castle was because I went there when my family visited Chicago around 15 years ago. I had to go back; it was almost like a homecoming. All these years of school and bullshit weren't so that I could graduate and get a good job. No, it was all so that I could get back to White Castle.
The third and most important reason is the Beastie Boys. There's that one song where they have a line about how, that's right, "White Castle fries only come in one size." Now, you'd think that taking some kind of culinary cue from the Beastie Boys would set off some kind of alarms, but oh no, ETP and I are stupid. So we were determined to hit White Castle. On our way out of town, we finally made our move.
We go in, and sure enough, just as the legends had told us, White Castle fries were indeed available in only one size. Oh man, were we stoked. There was the option of Chez fries, but fuck it, we're going traditional, $1.50 or not. We kinda fucked up and ended up ordering like 14 of those little hamburgers. They fucked up our order and gave us maybe 11, but still, that's (theoretically) a lot between three people. Accounting for how much BOETP eats (which attributes to her weighing about 13 pounds), that's around ten-and-a-half burgers between ETP and I. No big deal, though, since we're very capable when it comes to food.
Oh, except for the fact that when you take a good, hard look at this food, it's pretty fucking awful. The one-size fries look like they came from the frozen foods section of the grocery store, and the hamburgers, well, we know for a FACT that they are available at the grocery store. Couple in the fact that the buns absorb the, uh, meat, ah, juices, and it's really, really horrible. It was like our own little fast food Holocaust sitting right there in front of us.
After about two burgers each for ETP and I, we were just looking at each other, the shame so thick you could cut it with a knife. What the hell have we done? What should we do? Well, we actually spent several minutes contemplating just throwing everything out. This was a turning point in all our lives, I think. The height of decadence. We're sitting there with a meal in front of us that we paid for, with people starving all over the world, and we're about to toss it.
"I'm done." That's pretty much all it took for ETP to say and it was over. We tossed everything remaining, got the hell out of there, and went down the street to Portillos.
Portillos is pretty fucking good. It's a fast food-type joint that serves good hot dogs, some other stuff, and oh yes, Italian beef sandwiches. That was pretty good. A nice, big, hot helping of Italian beef. Bit by bit going into my mouth, sliding down my throat. Ummm, I think I'm kinda losing focus here. It was really good; don't let the homoeroticism fuck 'ya up.
Anyway, the decision to abort White Castle in the first frymester was a good call, and going to Portillos was a nice save. If by "save" you mean "waste," of course, but fuck it. We're assholes and we know it. I think it was worth it, though. That short span of time was quite possibly the fucking funniest half-hour ever. The kind of shit that they'll sing songs about some day.
Just like with pretty much everything else, I berated BOETP for not stopping us from going to White Castle in the first place. I mean, after all, she fucking grew up in Chicago. Shouldn't she have known better? As it turns out, she didn't know better because her parents would never go to White Castle, and now we know why.
Sunday, May 30, 2004
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