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.