Damn. I would never have thought to wear something like this without a shirt and tie, but I think it makes the lapels, cut, and pinstripes pop out even more so than they would normally.
I actually found a green velvet sportcoat that fit me perfectly, save for the sleeves being at least 4 inches too short. Couldn't even work that in a dark bar, let alone a drunken parade. A barrel-chested little person must have been the original owner or something. I also found perfect condition, high shine black leather combat boots. Which where a size and half too small. Foot discomfort is nothing new to me, but I couldn't lace them up. Sad.
Speaking of boots, now that I've grown my hair back, I can acquire myself some Dr. Martens. I threw mine out when I was shaven, as Dr. Martens are the favored footwear of some Neo-Nazi skinhead types, and I have enough misconceptions about me to set right as it is.
Speaking of drunken parades, I didn't go to any this year. Haven't been to any, in fact, since I was underaged.
I think my first serious make out session happened at the South Side Irish Parade when I was fifteen or so. I rode my bike there, alone, with no expectations, but ended up drinking foamy beer in someone's backyard. I'm quiet, but I make friends. She was older than me, and almost as drunk. It was in an alley, and I did not yet have the know how or knowledge of "base running" to finger her. She probably went on to hang out every weekend at Bourbon Street. God how I hate that place.
I am so happy I no longer live in Chicago. It's great, but not great enough to stay if all you ever wanted to do was leave.
I love getting messages informing me of comedy competitions the day of. I fucking love that shit.
Heading to the Moose, and maybe even the "Funny"bone on Tuesday. Economy jokes a plenty. After all, in this economy, you can't afford to not joke about this economy.
Random quote from the breakroom at work:
"Dude, just because Rob Halford wears leather and has sex with men doesn't make him gayer than John Mayer!"
The fact that they covered this song, although it's nowhere near as good as the original, makes me like them even more.
I eat ice cream by the pint. Even if it's in bar form, I eat it by the pint. I crossed a street, turned a corner in life last night. I was unable to finish a pint of ice cream. I had to retrieve the lid from the garbage can, replace it, and return the pint to the freezer. I cried a little. It was peanut butter, and you all know how much I love peanut butter. This is serious. I may need to see a doctor.
Dinner last night consisted of the aforementioned ice cream, Swedish Fish, and Ranch Doritos. I drank Mountain Dew. But I did eat three bananas throughout my day yesterday, so I think I'm even.
Michael Jackson sold out fifty concerts. I'm impressed. If he makes every show in the engagement, he will have played to an audience of over one million people. Roughly three hundred believe with their hearts that he's innocent. Two hundred and twenty of those will be German. Go figure.
Since I have to work overnight tonight(it's 3 AM deep in the bowels of PIT as I write this), I slept during the day, and went out to see The Last House on the Left before coming in to work. I cannont recommend or discourage people from seeing this movie. I will say that the acts of violence(particulary the rape)portrayed are staggering. People were gasping in horror and shock in the theater, something the author hadn't seen since the last time he saw an Eddie Murphy film on the big screen.
The film was a remake, and it was rather beautifully shot, but if the original uses a chainsaw, the remake uses a chainsaw! You always, always, always use the chainsaw! The original also had way more balls to it. In fact, in many countries, it was banned uncut for over thirty years! The film also has the best tagline ever: "To avoid fainting, keep repeating, 'It's only a movie... It's only a movie... It's only a movie...'"
I actually had some really kick ass popcorn, which anyone who even casually goes to the movies these days knows is a real rarity. It was freshly popped, topped with a perfect amount of butter, and I salted it just the way I liked it. I was content to munch away, killing the bag in a manner similar to the demise of several of the characters in the film. I don't want to think of the profit margins movie theaters make on popcorn. Makes me want to kill movie theater workers. I need to save that aggression for the right place and time, i.e. when I encounter the police.
It is warm tonight. Not cold at all while driving equipment about.
They don't come here for the wings.-BK
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