Ahh, to be this creative

Pearl and the Beard - Will Smith Medley from Goddamn Cobras Collective on Vimeo.

And that is how it's done

Living in the city has advantages and disadvantages but I've come to realize that the think I dislike most about the city is one of the things that suburbanites hate about the city.

Parking.

They will complain about how they have to pay an arm and a leg or how they can never find parking in front of their favorite club. Take a cab like everyone else. Douche. We know that in Downtown or Lincoln Park anything within 2 blocks is rock star parking.

No, what I'm complaining about is not being able to park in front of my own damn HOUSE! There used to be parking in front of my house until the yuppies with their 2 or 3 cars moved into my neighborhood. Then the next block over got zoned parking, so if I get home after 9pm I am doomed to park a block or more away. Bastards!

But to all the suburbanites, townies, and country folk who can't parallel park to save their lives I just want to say...


Front Bumper


Back Bumper

That's how it's done.

I have a monopoly on feeling crappy right now

It's 12:30am and I've been at work for 3 1/2 hours and I have 6 1/2 to go. I've been up since about noon yesterday. I have a headache, upset stomach and body aches. Unfortunately I think this is more due to drinking like an idiot yesterday than anything else. I am tired as hell and time is moving slower than molasses in January.

The Matador had a baby today. His initials are BJ. I'm sure he'll love that in high school.


Ate some good food last night. Sai Cafe. At Armitage and Sheffield. High end sushi at moderate prices. I highly recommend sitting at the sushi bar, the chefs are friendly and make great recommendations about food and sake. Try the creamy octopus. Tastes way better than it sounds.

Time to get back to work

Good Night and Good Luck

Fear and loathing in every corner of my life

Things really aren't that bad, there are women who like me and want to spend more time with me but I don't pursue them the way I should and don't know why.

What I do know is that I'm angry all the time. Angry at traffic, angry at traffic tickets, angry at people who say LOL out loud. If you are talking you are not laughing so shut the fuck up. Angry at people who want the government to buy their Motrin for them. Angry at the people who text due when they mean do. Angry at my ex-wife who is once again going on vacation with my daughter over Christmas break. Taking her to Italy. And apparently if they don't go during that time frame the trip doesn't happen and my daughter misses the opportunity to travel to one of the most beautiful and historic countries in the world on someone else's dime. So rather than be an asshole and say no I'm the asshole who has to spend Christmas with out the one person on this planet I do not hate.

Yes, I hate people. All people. My loathing of the human race has reached an all time high. I can't stand that as a society we have lost the knowledge of how to treat a fever without a trip to the ER. That every time your child hits it's head hard enough to leave a bump we have to irradiate his/her head in a CT scanner, just so we can sleep better. Yeah, you'll sleep better when your child is getting chemo for brain cancer or is developmentally delayed because you fried his/her damn brain.

And why can't we speak English? I may have to move to Oxford and sweep floors for a living just so I can here people speak the Queen's.

The abbreviations and shortcuts that we have created are destroying us. People wonder if we will end up making androids and machines that will take over the world. We already have. They are called cell phones, computers, DVD player's. When was the last time you read a damn book. When was the last time I finished a book. I have more unfinished books in my house than the average teenager, who throws down the assigned book after two chapters, if not two pages, in search of the Cliff notes or the DVD. Americans used to aspire to be better than the last generation, now we aspire to be lazier. How can I get more, oh yes we still want more, while doing less. Everybody looks for the shortcut. If you learned anything from childhood it should be that shortcuts only get you muddy shoes and ripped jeans.

The shame now is that our kids don't even play outside. They don't run through the neighbor's yard, or climb that tree they aren't supposed to, or play kick the can in the alley. They don't play. Only inside. Only on their computers. And only when they get bored with Facebook and Youtube.

Get your kids off the fucking couch.

No me importa

There is more story to tell you but I am good and tired and really don't care right now. I have to work tomorrow for the first time since I dislocated my shoulder and I am sooooo excited.

Wish me luck

One Banana Two Banana Three Banana Four

Do you ever feel like your life is a Banana Splits Episode. I feel like that more and more. The one of those crazy faced guys chasing around other crazy face guys and it never really stops unless it's time to ride the slide.

I dislocated my shoulder yesterday. Falling down the stairs is the party line, and you aren't going to hear anything else unless you know the password. Told this story to a way cute lady I'm infatuated with. She knows the password but I'm waiting until she is close enough to whisper it in my ear.

So now I am in mild to moderate constant pain with the occasional sharp fuck you if I move the wrong way. But the worst part is I am strapped into this modern torture device called a shoulder immobilizer. I now have even more sympathy for my friend with quadriplegia, he can still walk but is weak in his left leg and has no use of his left arm. Or maybe it's his right arm. It escapes me at the moment. Anyway loss of the use of your dominant hand his a huge pain in the arse. And so is doing anything you normally do on a regular basis. Like put on a shirt, or pull up your pants. Brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand is odd, wiping your ass with your non-dominant hand is downright surreal.

I'm going to miss 2 possibly 3 days of work because of this nonsense. That is a significant amount of money to lose, especially when due to recent extra expenses I am pretty much running on fumes as far as money goes.

random diverson:

I want a woman who is both sexy and smart. Who doesn't write due when she means do. who doesn't abbreviate and use aolspeak everytime she texts. Who gets it when I make an obscure reference or use a word they did teach you in grade school. But who can still wear sexy dresses and high heals and can pull off those sexy short shorts when the moment calls for it. I am sure there is a hot 25-35 yo woman out there with an IQ over 110 with ambition and drive and a wry sense of humor who is looking for a slowly balding cough *almost forty* guy with a gut who wields sarcasm the way Harrison Ford wields a whip, who is not afraid to grab the bull by the horns even if it means ending up in a shoulder immobilizer.

I'm starving and because the two women I am almost dating just got back into town and are taking care of their families instead of taking care of me I think I will go find food and solace with my friendly neighborhood bartender.

Go say hi to tony, because he is still the best writer out there. And say congrats to Sass on her new job.

My baby wrote me a letter...

My daughter, Monkey, left town 9 days ago to go work at a summer camp for 10 weeks. I am already in withdrawal. (spell check and the dictionary have just informed me that the correct spelling is indeed withdrawal and not withdrawl, who knew?) I have begun calling the alarm on my phone that goes off every night at 8pm reminding me to call my daughter, previously known as love alarm, sadness alarm.

But last night upon arriving home from work, I found in my mailbox a letter from Monkey. This made me very happy. It informed me that she is having a good time, has made friends with all the girls on crew, and that I shouldn't worry because there are no cute boys there. I wasn't worried, ok I wasn't too worried, but I definitely feel better now.

I am going to write a return letter now.

It may be a surprise

It may be a surprise to those that don't know me, but ian currently amazingly drunk.

I am sorry but this was supposed to be a long post bvut the combination of my intoxication and the iPhones spell check makes to fiifficult to continue. I have corrected some of my mistakes by I am dome trying hb make this legible. Have fun.

Live king and prosper.

Pray that I make it t ark on time tomorrow.

It always amazes me when I come here to see how long it has been since my last visit. But return I have, although not to document the misadventures of my own life but the adventures of others.


In particular one Emile Zola. Zola was a writer, a playwright, a champion of truth and the rights of the innocent in a time when the innocent, or guilty for that matter, had very few rights at all.

***SPOILER ALERT*** Skip the next paragraph and go to the following one if you hate when people spoil the end of the movie for you.

Emile Zola lived in France from 1840 until his death in 1902, except of course for the brief time he spent in London when he had to flee the country of his birth or be jailed. Jailed for speaking out and accusing the leaders of the French Army of convicting an innocent man of treason and covering up their mistake by acquitting the guilty party in order to save face and avoid a scandal.

THE LIFE OF EMILE ZOLA

Best Picture winner in 1937, The Life Of Emile Zola, described the life and times of one of the most famous writers of the late 19th Century. Known as the creator of literary naturalism a form of writing that exposes plot more than characters and plays up the dirty or negative side of life rather than romanticizing life. The movie although admittedly fictionalizing Zola's life shows a interesting portrayal of his life and the court case that defined his spirit for uncovering and trumpeting the truth. And it accomplishes what a biography should do, which is make you more curious about the life of the portrayed individual, while entertaining it's audience. It's 1937 folks so it there isn't any edge of your seat tension but it was well done and definitely worth 116 minutes of your time.

Ripped the Band-aid off

Cut the cord.

Unfortunately as they say this is going to hurt you more than it hurts me. I hate hurting people. I need to learn that hurting people a little now save you from hurting them a lot later.

Anyway I am moving on and have an agenda of improving myself and my life.

I'd ask you to wish me luck but I am full aware that there is no luck involved

Good Night and Good Luck.

Ok kids

No pics. No time to flesh out that last story. Just an attempt to post regularly. You get 10 min with Dave.

I want this guy to post. Because he was just in Vegas and I'm jealous.

I am in small town Indiana visiting my cousins, and tomorrow I will be attending a Scrabble tournament. Yes, I am just that dorky.

I woke up late today and was pissed. But had fun with Monkey once I picked her up.

I didn't go to court to try and resolve my driver's liscence issues

I did get an oil change.

I did decide to rip the band-aid off. No more waiting to see if it will go away. The girl I am seeing (sleeping with) is getting WAAAAAAY to attached and despite me telling her with increasing frequency that I do not want a relationship she sticks around and keeps inviting me over. Have to finally say no.

I have to be up in 7 hours so that's all you get.

Good night and good luck.

Hey

Did some drinking on Monday. Saw an old friend. Sent some funny text messages. Got my shoes shined. Then went home and watched TV on DVD for 4 hours.

It's actually a better story than that but I have 25 min to take a shower and get the hell out of dodge so I am not late for work.

Stay out of trouble, wouldja people.

So much for posting more

This every five day shit has got to go.

Today I ate enough food to feed an entire Ethiopian family for a year.



And enough fat and cholesterol to give all the superfans heart attacks.



There is a definite possibility that I consumed 2500 calories at dinner. Thank you b-dubs.


First I split the chili con queso and Pepperoni bites which are triangles of breaded deep fried goodness wrapped around mozzarella cheese and pepperoni and served with marinara sauce. Actually we split the pepperoni bites and I ate 90% of the chili con queso and chips.

Then I ordered a bacon cheeseburger AND 6 breaded tenders with spicy garlic sauce. Both come with fries, but because I lack the natural fear of dying a slow and painful death I substituted potato wedges covered in bacon and cheese for my fries with the burger. It's a good thing I didn't make the switch on both because the lack of cheese and bacon deterred me from eating all my fries.

It is all ok though because I drank diet coke and water with dinner so it all balances out.

Monkey and I played Buzztime trivia for awhile then left for borders so she could do her homework in semi-silence.

Although I don't know how much attention she paid to her homework because just prior to arriving at borders she entered into a major (for her) teenage crisis. Way back in 6th or 7th grade she made friends with two boys, Neeson and Brown. They were best friends and Monkey started hanging out with them. It may have even started earlier than this I have no recollection. She liked liked Brown, but only liked Neeson as a friend. She was a grade ahead of them so pretty much lost touch with them. I think she saw them once while a freshman but not since. She found them through facebook about 2 weeks ago and then ended up texting him constantly last week while on spring break. I asked her if I had anything to worry about and she told me there wasn't, they were just friends. And then within 24 hours she sent me a text saying "maybe you should worry". I replied that she wouldn't talk that much to a boy she didn't like. "It's not me" "Dad help me! This is what he just said: I mean I put myself on the line and u can't say u don't like me a little... WHAT DO I DO?

And that is the last I heard about it until tonight. I turns out he asked her out on the 1st, and she thought it was a April fool's joke, but it wasn't. She initially said no, then said yes. But then he asked if she was doing it because she wanted to go or because she was humoring him. She said I don't know.

Apparently they agreed no dates but would still be friends. Today he said he wanted to stop talking to her for awhile shich got her all upset. I told her that was probably the better idea. "But what happens when we start talking again." At least she is smart enough to know that his crush won't go away in a couple of days or weeks. All she wants is a friend. Life ain't that simple sweetheart.

Then we ended up at Ed's.


And had milkshakes.



Because there wasn't enough food in my belly already.

Now I am home and will watch Movies and/or West Wing until the sun comes up.

Well, I did

Stop drinking that is. I am officially on hiatus from alcohol until at least Aug 1, possibly Sept 1, but we will see. I would have posted this on April 1 but the people that know me would have called it an April fool's joke. But it's not.

I feel rested today. Pretty much did nothing for the last day and a half. That helps. I was going to do the laundry today but somehow agreed to take the Philarican to the airport. People shouldn't be allowed to ask me favors after midnight. I am always at my weakest.

Speaking of weak, I think I have the flu. It is pretty low grade, but from dealing with my patients I am pretty sure this is Influenza B which builds gradually, kicks your ass in the middle and then takes a long time to go away. As opposed to influenza A which kicks your ass the first two days and then fades within a week.

I am so glad I have a long painful course ahead of me. It is quite motivating.

I am going to go shave now.

Read Sass. She is in Hong Kong.

Someone please remind me to stop drinking.

I hear the train a comin'

And it is going to run over somebody's heart. Stay tuned as David once again crushes a woman heart because he is to stupid to avoid women who throw physical affection his way yet radiate crazy the way the Sun radiates heat and light.

I never promise any thing and I try harder and harder each time to tell them that there is no future or hope for a relationship, and each time they say they understand and then they get naked.

And eventually it all gets ugly and I feel like the asshole.

I'm glad I'm not in Kansas

The wind just blew so hard my entire building shook. I live in a brick 2 flat.

If I wake up in Oz, I am not going to work tomorrow.

I can't imagine what the skyscrapers are like. They are bigger but also higher up. I wonder if you can ever feel the wind in them.

yesterday and today

Yesterday

Boundary was empty. Went home. Fell asleep around 3am.

Today

Woke up at 7:30am. And again at 9am. Went to see an apt that was both the nicest and most expensive so far. Go figure. Further north than I am now but on top of the expressway. Literally. Couldn't here the traffic from the inside though. That was good.

Fucked around on the Internet until 11:30-noon and then slept until 3p.

Went to see Monkey. $70 for sushi for 2 of us. Would have been happier if it was better and I wasn't hungry again 2 hours later. But I guess I am always hungry 2 hours later. Went to Borders. Bought the book Charlie Wilson's War, wish it had the original cover and not the movie cover. I only read a few pages but it looks like it is going to be even better than the movie, and I loved the movie.

Then took Monkey to her school to see her friend M&M sing for fine arts week. Monkey has a better voice than her friend. When I asked monkey why she didn't sign up she said it was because she was stupid. At least she knew she made a mistake. She also said she wouldn't know what song to sing. She walks around singing constantly. She kills me.

Speaking of killing me she didn't turn in two more Physics homework assignments. Arrgh.

Speaking of being hungry I stopped at Wendy's for food. At least I got the chicken sandwich. But I did get fries. And a diet coke which is probably why I am full of energy right now. Somebody remind me that I have to be at work in the morning.

I am going to finish reading the Washington Biography that I am almost done with so I can read Charlie Wilson's War.

Speaking of reminding. I have to finish Fear and loathing in Las Vegas that I started over a week ago but haven't picked up since. Not out of lack of desire but lack of time and in an effort to read only one book at a time, good luck with that, I wanted to finish His Excellency first.

So my pocket just posted

Half a post anyway. So what Ias trying to say is that after apologizing profusely and promising to come back I walked out of the bar and put my hands into my coat pockets and realized that not only had I gone out without my wallet but my keys as well. Dumbass.

At that is a contingency that I had prepared for and there is an extra set hidden on the back porch. So I am in the house now and am tired so I don't want to go back. But I am honest and like the spicy chicken sammich so I will go pay my bill and decide if I wanna go to boundry or go to bed.

Luck of the Irish

So I am walkng from small bar but not to bundry but home. Why home? Because my pstupid ass left my wallet at home. So
Njqp

So I blame it on the sammich

I was hungry as usual so I went Smallbar for thieir spicy chicken sandwich which is quite noteworthy. But you can't have a sammich without a drink. I started out with a beer. I figure I can't get in much trouble with beer. I had a Three Fourths Pride and Joy. Hoppy, so they tell me, but I liked it. Went well with the sammich and tots. Yes, tots. But after the first beer I couldn't figure out what I wanted next. The bearded bartender graciously gave samples of a few different beers, but nothing grabbed me so I had to go with the bottle of soco that was calling my name since I walked in the door. And his credit the beard knows how a rocks pour should be poured. So I will finish my drink then wander down to Boundry for hopefully 1 or 2 drinks and then go home and get some sleep before I have to get up at 8am.


Stay out of jail.

a LOST thought

If you have not seen any of the last three lost episodes stop reading.


Oh wait I think I just answered my own question. I was going to ask if anyone thinks that It was sawyer and company who open the gates for the purge but I am guessing they will be gone by then because ben is at least twenty when that happens, and he only looks about twelve or thirteen.

Carry on.

In a nutshell

Woke up in the Matador's recliner this morning because he had somehow convinced me to me him in Joliet. The somehow was that he was with the Caveman and Danger. I haven't see the Caveman in forever and Danger is a hoot to hang out with.

For example, a bit of Danger wisdom:

Build a man a fire and keep him warm for a day. Set a man on fire and keep him warm for the rest of his life.

I met them in a dive bar that had only 5 women in it plus the two that worked there and that quickly dwindled to down to one plus the waitresses. Matador and Caveman had been drinking since 4p and I met them at 9p so they were already on the slippery slope. Matador apparently slipping a little faster than the rest. Danger met them at seven but seemed to have gotten several under his belt by the time I arrived. There is also a possiblity that he had a few in him before he arrived.

At about the time I left Monkey's house, another reason I was willing to drive to the joylet is that I was already halfway there, I received a text from Hot Bartender who was working at Le Passage, which is a club downtown, stating the drink specials and that she can get me on the guest list. AND.....and that there was a group of 200 med students RSVP'd for 10pm. I passed that on to matador who still wouldn't come into the city. It wasn't until I was in said first dive bar of the evening that I realized the true meaning of HotBartender's message. MATCH DAY! MATCH DAY! It was fucking matchday! Match day is the day when all the medical students all around the country find out where they are going to do their residencies. It is a complicated process that culminates in this one day. The day when they find out if they are going to do their residency at the hospital they wanted, or at somewhere shitty, or if they did not match at all and they will have to scramble like mad to find somewhere or have to learn to say "would you like fries with that". All on the same day. Which means that Le Passage was filled with at least 75-100 women who were either really really happy or really really sad, and on their way to becoming really really drunk. Which means easy targets, er, um... I mean good conversation and celebratory sex or consolation sex. Either way I could have been that guy.

But no, I was stuck in a bar with 20 dudes and no scenery. I wonder if Matador's arm hurts today because every time I said Match Day, I punched him in the shoulder. He probably doesn't remember the conversation or the punches. Oops just outed my self.

I did however get to watch the debacle that was the Illinois-Western Kentucky game. Without sound. About two thirds of the way through the game Matador called it a day and went home to sleep. He told us to call him in an hour and he would be up and ready to go again. I know better. I actually think he convinced him self he would be able to get up. I have seen this theory in action more than once and it doesn't work.

The second stop on our dive bar tour and only had two women in it plus the bartender. But this was still a small step up because the bartender, who I know, knows how to pour a real drink. And one of the two other women in the bartender was J a hot bartender that works there. Didn't talk to her because the other 20 neanderthals in the place were in line to talk to her. And well, she really has nothing to say. But is nice to look at. We managed two drinks in that place and then Danger called it a night and Caveman and I moved on to dive bar #3.

It was karaoke night at Dive Bar #3. Oh, joy of joys. But it was apparently ugly people with good voices night so I didn't have the urge to poke my eyes out. And the bartender, who seemed like the kind of guy who always knew how many steps it would take him to get to the shotgun no matter where he was behind the bar, knew how to pour a strong drink. I drink SoCo on the rocks so to me a strong drink is a full glass, and they had decent sized glasses. I few dorks with average but not horrible voices sang a few songs but they were country songs and apparently my mind has developed the ability to tune out country automatically so it was basically a couple of goof balls at the back of the room moving there lips. Again, suprisingly no urge to remove my eyeballs. We lasted two drinks at that place.

Dive bar #4 had some scenery but it was all 21 year old scenery. I think we made it through one drink before we decided to call it a day. We were planning on playing scrabble at Matador's place but when we got there he was on the couch. He woke up when we came in and went to bed. He told us that Abs was sleeping and had to be at work at seven. Which implied that if we were loud while we played scrabble, and we always are, she would kill us in an unpleasant manner.

So I went out to my car to get The Dark Knight DVD, because I have only seen it 3 times and watching a 3 hour movie at 2am seemed like a good idea. Unfortunately or fortunately as the case may be, the sound on the TV would not work with the DVD player. Why I do not know. I have never had a problem before. The only thing that is new is that Aborama's boyfriend, Kentucky, has hooked up his playstation and I don't know if that was causing the problem. I just realized now that I could have played the DVD in the playstation but that thought had not occurred to me at 2am.

So I slept. I woke up at 9 am and woke up the Caveman reminding him he was supposed to be at a wake at 9am. He said he knew and went back to sleep. I was supposed to meet Dr. Magjahooha at BW3 at 11am but instead of taking a shower my tired as crawled up stairs to get some more comfortable sleep in Abs' bed. Sorry Abs.

OK, I thought tis post was gonna be a nutshell because I didn't think I had the energy to type it all out so I was going to make it bullet points. Turns out I was right. I have run out of steam so you will get the condensed version of the rest of my day.

Made it to b-dubs at noon. Magjahooha was not drinking or eating meat. Because even though he now attends a non-denominational christian church he cannot let go of his Catholic up bringing.

His brother who looks like Robin Williams and his cousin and two uncles were there. I had 4 drinks and a shot. One of the uncles is going to be a grandpa. They were there for March Madness but only watched one game and then left. Food was good and the waitress was hot but only 20 years old.

I then drove home in shitty traffic.

Paid my rent.

Saw the downstairs apartment because my landlord wants me to move down there and although they are fixing it up and it will look nice the bedrooms are really small and the bigger bedroom is fucked up because the door is in the middle of the room so my king size bed wont fit. And the 2nd bedroom is so small it won't fit anything bigger than twin bed.

Fuck.

So now I have to move.

Good news is I found a bunch of apt's for under $1000 but the coolest sounding one in the best location had no phone number in the ad so I drove to the address and as far as I can tell it doesn't exist. I will have to try again in the daylight. Hopefully I just wrote the address down wrong.

I took a nap. Prior to that I talked to Hot Latina, who said she might meet me out but didn't. But we have a date for next friday. It is a friend's sweet 16 party. It should be fun.

I actually cooked dinner.

I watched Lost. It was Gooooooooooood!

I got a text from Monkey after midnight. I told her to go to bed. She laughed. Nice.

I wrote this crap. Now I am going to watch a movie even though I have to be up in 8 hours to go to work.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Well fuck it all to hell

Well guess what folks? I burned the CD correctly but I had the old laptop on while I was doing all this copying and although I had the fucking thing plugged in it wasn't taking a charge and now it is dead and I want to throw it across the room. I am going to leave before I do that.

Sacre Bleu

OK, so I found out the problem. The Toshiba copy utility just copied the file instead of burning an image. I knew I needed to do this, but I thought the utility was smart enough to figure it out. I was wrong. So now I am burning the image file. Hopefully correctly. This apparently take way longer than just copying. So I think I will go look at blogs or porn or something. Wish me luck.

Cue mission impossible theme

I am currently downloading software that is supposed to crack windows passwords because I have this old laptop that I have not used in 3-4 years because I broke the damn screen. I tried to hook it up to an old monitor in the past but the laptop had stopped taking a charge. Now I have it charged and hooked up to a monitor but guess who can't remember what the f'ing password is. So much for changing your passwords frequently. I certainly don't change them frequently but i used to change them every couple of months and now I change them every couple of years. Either way I am I still 5-6 generations of passwords from when I put one on that laptop so who the fuck knows what it is. Ooooh, the software finished downloading! Now I have to copy it to a CD. Be right back. Screw abbreviations, we are not that busy.

OK, so it's burning. I am curious to see what I have on the old laptop. I may not have too many pics because I don't think I had a digital camera back then. I do know that I was keeping a journal, even prior to me starting a blog, so I hope I have some good stuff on there. Although some of the real old stuff would be on my even older laptop, which was unfortunately stolen.

Ooh, ooh, shit is happening on the laptop. I restarted it with Ophcrack in the CD drive so let's see what we shall see. Moment of truth here people windows restarted.....mmmmm, I have the enter password screen and it won't let me in. I think I just failed my first test as a spy. Check back later for updates. I am going to devote all my attention to this problem.

I can't do it

I just can't I sat down with the full intention of writing Look Ma No Hangover Part 2 but I don't have the energy or desire. I am too tired, too apathetic, to BLAH to write that post. Apparently just typing out what ever drivel comes to my head is much easier than remembering, organizing, and telling a story of events that occured two weeks ago. Has it been that long.

Speaking of long it has been way over a year since I purchased Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I have yet to read it but was reminded of it's importance as a life guide by Alat blood-and-thunder.com.

Which reminds me that I received yet another invitation to go to Vegas today. From Brother, who has received an invite from the Monte Carlo for 3 free days at the end of April. Who also informs me that he has a free companion flight that he is willing to blow on me. So this time free airfare and hotel. Now I just have to sell Matador's car to pay for my drinking and gambling.

Speaking of gambling, I lost a dollar at work making a stupid bet. And a co-worker won $10,000 at the boat playing video poker the other day.

Speaking of drinking, I'm not. My financial situation warrants a complete stopage of my free wheeling eight dollar a drink who wants shots days. So I am semi-retired. I was already planning to sit out St. Patrick's Day, blasphemy I know. And now I may pass on an opportunity to sit in a Buffalo Wild Wings for six hours or more drinking and watch March Madness with 4 or 5 other guys.

So plans to take over the world have slowed but have not stopped. The world will be mine I tell you, MINE!!

Society as a whole is doomed

How much are people willing to torture and ruin their children for their own amusement?



And you wonder why I hate people?

When I view this in Blogger preview mode it works fine but when I view it on my blog it doesn't seem to load. If you are having the same problem, here is a link to the video of a 2 year old smoking a cigarette.

Update. Or David goes drinking all week and all you get is this lousy update.

Last week or so, pretty fun but been tired and working. Seriously have a week's worth of good posts rolling around in my head but all I have time for is a status update.

Matador is in Vegas. Bastard. Horse Cock is with him. Double Bastard. They are going to see a Cubs-Sox exhibition game tonight. Double triple super bastards.

I however get to go see Chicago the musical so I am not totally bummed. Just jealous. Almost as exciting as the musical will be dinner. At Corosh. Haven't eaten there in years but my two experiences there were very good. Used to know the manager. Met him out drinking one night. Now I don't even remember his name. I do however remember that the food was fantastic. And I just found out that there kitchen is open late. I just might have to start frequenting this place again.

Anyway, night folks got to run. I have to wake up the naked lady in my bed, get dressed, and find my money clip.

Look Ma, no hangover

So I got my ass off the couch last night. And it was because of Matador, and his drunk intermittent texts. And it wasn't because I thought Joliet or Fat Tuesday would be so exciting I would talk about it for years to come. I've experienced both before and neither were ever worth more than a days worth of conversation.

No it was because real me was staring current me in the face saying WTF?? This was inadvertently due to this girl and my response to this post, which is a post about boys and friends and alcohol and pancakes and alcohol and probably some disguised douchebaggery and alcohol and hinted about sex and some alcohol leaving the body at some point thank you god and she wrapped up it all up with "Complete fail at moderation." To which I responded Moderation is overrated. And it is. But after I posted that sentence I looked at it and thought what the fuck motherfucker, practice what you preach. Lead by example I always say. If my friends could make me a t-shirt that described me it would probably say Excess is Key. Or Freak. No wait that one is from the ex-girl friends. Strike that.

But seriously. I thought who the fuck am I that I even had a thought that lead me to be sitting on my couch at 10:30pm on Fat Tuesday. So I got my fat ass up, put myself together and got my ass out of the house. I stopped at McDonald's on the way to make myself more fat, effectively ending my 2 week streak of not eating food from a drive through.

There is obviously more to the story I am just incapable of posting at this time. See you tomorrow.

Happy Fat Heathen Day

I am celebrating Fat Tuesday by drinking a Fat Tire beer. I'm sure the beer nor the company have no affiliation with Mardi Gras, New Orleans or anything remotely related to the Catholic Church, but it does have the word Fat in it so I'm assuming most Americans will forgive me because we seem to have such a love affair with fat anyway.

And instead of being at a bar hoping erroneously that some woman will lift her top, I am sitting on my couch getting fat.

I should have been playing poker but I was not willing to cut my time with Monkey short, even if she did trounce me in Scrabble. I could have been drinking in Joliet at the one bar I find tolerable out there with one of the handful of people I find tolerable out there, but after spending the evening discussing responsiblity and the future with my daughter I found it harder to spend the night drinking when I know I have to work at 11am.

Although it seems the Matador has not completely given up on me and as we speak is trying to twist my arm long distance. Not as effective as in person but seeing as I have the world's most twistable arm he still may be able to accomplish my goal. My fear of course is that he will be shit faced by the time I arrive and I will just end up taking him home and sitting in his living room watching movies until 4am.

Wish me luck.

Burgers and Bros

I am forcing myself to post before watching lost on abc.com.

Had a good time last night. I went out with my brother and two friends we had not seen since we were about 14 or 15 years old. We went to Kuma's Corner which, if you even remotely like burgers, you have to go to. I know I have mentioned this place before but I don't know if I have done it justice. I don't know if I could do it justice. Kuma's primarily is a bar that happens to serve burgers. The best burgers. Trust me on that one. I didn't believe it either. There is metal and amazing art work and more amazing burgers and no crap beer, and super friendly waitstaff.

But back to the night. We spent a good three hours talking about shit that we haven't talked or thought about in years. One of the memorable quotes of the night was "One of my most vivid childhood memories is knocking on your door and handing your grandmother your teeth."

We laughed and talked and caught up and agreed to do it again. Our friends went home fairly early, before 9, the whole wife/family thing.

Brother and I then went to Local Option, Brother's favorite watering hole. He apparently frequents there often enough to know the owner and all the staff. We talked for hours, including stuff that we normally don't talk about. We had a great time. I enjoyed it immensely. I think my brother and I are becoming as good friends now as we were as kids which is nice.

Tonight is Valentine's Day. I don't have a Valentine and am not only OK with this but kind of happy about it. Not sure why exactly but I am.

I am going out to night with Rico Suave, Foti, and Biker Guy. I may invite Brother. Workout girl and her friends are supposed to be in the city but haven't heard from them. We are going to Hogs & Honeys. Haven't been there in a couple of years but it is a fun place to drink and watch people ride the mechanical bull. I will not be getting my stupid ass on the bull tonight but hope that others in the group are not as smart as I, because it is fun to watch.

If I were a bro

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Hilarious video. Excellent vocals. Done by this woman.

The WTF Blanket

Crap

I think tony has the right idea about ESP blogging. I think we need to figure out how to get that machine from Tommyknockers working so are blog posts can be written in the next room while we figure out how to get our noses to stop bleeding. I always have these ideas about blog posts while I am work but the network administrator apparently thinks that me reading or posting blogs is appropriate. Bastards. At least they haven't figured out how to block google reader. Otherwise I would be completely cut off from the blogosphere. As I was for the past 3 days. I was stuck in joliet because of my work schedule, snow, and Matador's birthday. Matador's birthday.

Matt's birthday was yesterday and I met him and friends when I got off of work. It was nearly as legendary as last year but it was fun and it's technically not over because we are back on the crazy train to night. Actually my dirty smelly procrastinating ass needs to be in the shower right now because there are at least two people on the way to my house right now.

But enough about now. Last night consisted of Me, Matador, Aborama (aka Abs), Abs' brother MC, Abs' boyfried Kentucky, and The Green Crayola, who was in disguise as Drewster for most of the night.

The night started out tame. Well it ended tame too but shhh we're not there yet. MC and Drewster each seemed a little tanked by the time I got there but who knows. We had a few drinks and play Race Poker on one of the those video game doohickeys you see on top the the bar sometimes. Way more fun than it looks. Especially when MC would only pick his cards based on suit even when it meant passing up pairs, three of a kind and straights. He redeemed himself the second game. The amazingly cute bartender wrapped in an amazingly cute package named Holly kept us well lubricated. We played some trivia. Also way fun especially because the matador decided that moderate to severe intoxication makes him the smartest person in the bar. My favorite trivia question of the night was this:

What was the real name of Baby in the movie Dirty Dancing?

A. Irene

B. Whore

C. Frances

D. Angie

I picked C because you always pick C when you don't know the answer, but B was way tempting.

And there were pictures. Because after last year's pictures, there has to be follow up.

Pooping

I don't delight in writing about evacuating my bowels the way some bloggers do but this the first time I have been able to sit down for more than 3 minutes today and for that I am thankful. An thank you to blog writer who allows me to post from my phone.

I love the I phone.

The best I could

A Meal To Die For

I am going to have to plan a trip to Phoenix just for this. Who's in?

Read this

Read this.

Bring Kleenex.

Wow!

So I write reviews here occasionally. Mostly movies, occasionally restaurants. I want to do this more often. It is hard to write a review with out spoilers but I try and sometimes I wonder if I do a god job. Well, this man knows how to write a review.

Seriously. And I know imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but at some point it just becomes copying. So instead I will say ARRRRGGGGHHH!!!!

LOST

(seriously I need to stop accidently posting these things before I'm done)

Where was I? ARRRRRGGGGHH!

LOST.

I think I finally figured out LOST. LOST is like a prize fighter. A good prize fighter. You think you're a prize fighter. You may even think you are a championship prize fighter. But you're not. It's LOST. And you are just lost.

The first time you meet him in the ring he knocks you around. Dance, dance, punch. Dance, dance, dance, punch. Dance, dance, dance, dance, why are we still dancing. Wham! Punch. And then the punches keep flying. You're reeling, what's going on, did that just really happen. You're stunned, hurting, confused.

But you make it to round two. And you're getting better. Your not getting hit as much. Maybe even seeing some of the punches coming.

You make to round 3.

You make it through round 4. Barely. It was rough. You really got knocked around. Didn't see that one coming. But you made it. and you learned something. You saw something. A pattern. Left jab, left jab, right cross. Left jab, left jab, right cross. He missed you with that one.

Round 5 starts. He seems stronger rejuvenated. He starts a little different, but then you see it. Left jab, left jab, right cross. You smile, you're ready. Here it comes. Left jab, left jab, right jab! Wham!! Right between the eyes. Never saw it coming. You're down. You're stunned. What just happened. You stumble to your feet. It's over.

That's LOST.


Holy crap!!!!!!! Did you see Episode 3, really should be episode 2 why can't they give the 2 hour episode only one name.

But seriously did you see it? Who saw that coming. Not me. Maybe should have, but how?

Now no real spoiler here, just food for thought?

Has Daniel Faraday time traveled before, or does he just not age?

Twenty minutes

Is all you get because it is 1:15am and although I am supposed to get up for work in about 4 hours I am barely tired. So if I am going to be up then maybe I should do something productive instead of sitting on my cough surfing the internet like I'm on vacation.


Went and saw Inkheart today. Good movie. Not great though. It is worth renting and watching on a day where you want to pleasantly whittle away a couple of hours. I liked the ending better than monkey. But then again she actually finished the book and read the next two in the trilogy. So she was upset by the changed ending. It apparently negates the possibility of a sequel. According to her anyway. She doesn't know Hollywood very well. There is always the possibility of a sequel. Look at Alien Resurrection for heaven's sake. The killed Ripley off and still found a way to bring her back for a fourth one. That movies is one of my guilty pleasures actually, I really kind of liked it. It's the third one I thought was crap.

Monkey is yet again not handing in her homework. Short of setting her on fire I really don't know what to do about her. She seems intent on deliberately sabotaging herself. I think it is because she is so scared about going to college and not knowing what she wants to do with her life, that she thinks that if she does poorly in school it will limit her choices and then she won't have to make one.

My plans to buy a condo this year may be crushed for more than one reason but am still going to move forward and plan like it will happened so I am prepared if it does.

I must be getting tired because I am only 12 minutes in and I have nothing to say.

So I will say goodbye.

Why do people insist on texting me

Written while in Vegas, just saw/remembered it was on my phone.

While I'm writing a post on my iPhone? I was 2/3 of the way through a medium sized post
Unfotunately This time the person was my mom and how can you not reply to your own mom. Hitting the close button instead of reply would be a crime or at least an offense worthy of several days of catholic guilt. So I hit reply and as soon as it switched from blogwriter to the text screen I knew what I had done. I had wiped my entire sleeping brother post into the ocean. Not that there is an ocean for a thousand miles, but it may as well have gone that far because it is now quite irretrievable.

I always new I was destined to be number 1

I occasionally check how many visitors I get, I average 4, and where they come from. Today I discovered something quite pleasing. I am #1.

On Google no less. Someone found me by googleing Cimmaron remake 2010. And they found this page. And not only did that search link to me. I was, as stated, #1. Even above the Wikipedia page List of Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer films.

I know this means nothing on the grand scale but it makes me happy.

Bullshitting

I keep bullshitting around on the internet not accomplishing anything. Although I did learn a few things.
Obama loves the woman in the crowd.
There really is something for everyone on the iPhone.
Star Wars was way bigger than Cabbage patch kids or Tickle Me Elmo

The rest of my day included

Me waking up to an even colder apartment than I went to bed in. My thermostat went out the other day and when I got home on Friday after not being home for 2 days my apartment was 60 degrees. Or at least that is what the thermostat said. I think the living room was a good 10 degrees colder than that. The heat would kick on if you turned the thermostat up but then would only be on for a few minutes and would turn off again and would not turn back on even though the temperature in the apartment was way lower that the set temperature on the thermostat. So as soon as the heater would turn off I would turn the thermostat all the way down and then all the way back up again and I would get heat. And even though having a snowball fight INSIDE your apartment would be pretty cool, the best thing about a snowball fight, other than winning of course, is that you get to go back inside to warm up afterwards. And if you are already inside then you are just fucked.

Luckily I have a very responsive landlord and he showed up about an hour or so after I called him. And had a new thermostat in a couple of hours after that, so I am actually typing this without seeing my breath.

I was planning to go see a movie with Monkey so well could get out of this freezing hole that was beginning to resemble the fortress of solitude. Did you know that The Spirit is not showing in the Chicago land area anymore? Has it really been out that long. It seems like a way better movie that some of the other crap out there. Speaking of other crap our back up plan was The Curious Case of Benjamen Button. Now although the premise seems cool, the critics panned it and in rewatching the trailer the potential for suckiness looming over this picture like a dark cloud becomes evident. And is it over 2 1/2 hours long. I don't mind a long movie as long as it doesn't seem like a long movie. I just don't see this movie moving at a breakneck pace. Give me the Dark Knight anyday.

As it turns out I was spared finding out if this movie sucks. By my parents. Who called me yesterday to see if Monkey and I wanted to go to dinner with them at some restaurant they saw on Check Please!, which is a show where they invite a few local people on and each on picks a restaurant and then they all go at seperate times and then review it. I like the show so I was all up for but they wanted to go at 5pm. So I suggested 6pm to which there was hesitation but agreement and right before my dad hung up I said It's Saturday call and get reservations. Good thing too, because all they had was 5pm and 9pm. We took 5pm and that put a kybosh on the movie. Monkey and I went to a Borders Books near the restaurant and played Scrabble. We each won 1 game.

It turns out it 5pm was perfect because after that it was a mad house. Turns out that the episode of Check Please! was filmed quite a while ago and it was unusual because one of the invited locals was then Senator Barack Obama, and every one and there mother wanted to go to the restaurant that the President has been to. If I would have not gone on the day after the episode aired. The restaurant in question is Zia's Trattoria on Northwest Highway, and the management apparently had enough sense to staff the place well because despite the fact that all the tables were filled by 5:30 or so and the bar was packed to the gills by 6, everything ran smoothly. Our order was taken promptly, bread on the table and refilled immediately, busboys were zooming everywhere and always polite and attentive. My guess is they brought in more people than they would have on a regular weekend night.

The food was decent. I had the fillet mingon stuffed with three cheeses, served with Asparagus and mashed potatoes. Mom had pork roast wrapped in pancetta, which gave it a marvelous taste. It was slightly over cooked but certainly not too dry that you would even complain about it especially with that flavor. Pops had the Lamb shank that came with a bone big enough to kill someone with. I unfortunately did not get to taste, but the reports from the rest of the table were all positive. Monkey had the butternut squash appetizer for her dinner. Why I don't know exactly but she seemed happy with her choice and the taste I had was quite pleasing but I dont know if I would want a whole plate of it, though. Mainly because to me it is not a meal without meat.

The desserts were good. I had Tiramisu which is what I always have when I eat Italian. Was it the best I have ever had? No. Would I order it there again? Absolutely. Monkey had the Creme Brulee which was worth ordering for the fresh fruit on top alone. Mom had somesort of apple pie thing, didn't really pay attention. And right now I can't remember what Pops had.

The bill for 4 people? $135. We didn't drink any alcohol but I still think that was a pretty decent price for what we received. I've spent $45-$50 on just monkey and me for mediocre meals. $65 for a good meal is pretty good.

Would I go 12 miles from home to eat there again? Eh, probably not. Would I go if someone else really wanted to go? Sure. I would definitely recommend it if someone was looking for something up in that area or was looking for a cute date spot.

Unfortunately no pictures. I need to remember to actually use the camera I make sure I bring with.

It smells like toast

Written yesterday

Last night I went drinking in Joliet. I hate Joliet. I don't know why exactly I just do. I have some really good friends that live there. I work there. I just hate the place. I think it is because no matter how happy the people around me are, it just seems like such a dismal place. The kind of place that you would think everybody would want to get out of but very few actually do. They grew up there, they live there, they have no problem dying there.

I grew up in Chicago. To me that is what a city is. But what it is is a big city. I grew up believing that all cities were big. Anything smaller was a town. Or a suburb. I always felt that anything less than a million people wasn't a city. One of the times I said this out loud and someone smarter and wiser than me said that that means there are only eight cities in the U.S. I replied that there are more than that. Turns out there are nine. Nine cities with more than a million people. Maybe bigger isn't always better. I have been to Honolulu. I like it. It has a downtown. A small one but there are enough tall buildings there to make me happy. And there are nice restaurants. I mean NICE restaurants. Not oh, that restaurant was nice. But get dressed up fancy, have people call you sir, sigh or even moan every time you take a bite because you can't believe it tastes so good nice. It is close the beach. It is practically surrounded by beach. They bars, big open places with people you would be afraid to talk to. Maybe even people you would want to talk to. It is diverse. It has culture. I could live there. I could even live in the some of the communities and small towns outside of Honolulu.

Honolulu has 375,000 people. Joliet has 145,000. Almost half the population. But to me Honolulu is a city and Joliet is just a big town. I will give it credit for being somewhat diverse. White 69% African American 18% Native American 0% Asian 1% Hawaiian 0% Other/Mixed 12%
Chicago: White 42% African American 37% Native American 0% Asian 4% Hawaiian 0%
Other/Mixed 17%
I don't know how Native Americans, Asians and Hawaiians get there own categories but the Hispanics are other/mixed. Seems odd to me. I remember when filling out forms for various things, usually college registration having to check the box marked white/non-Hispanic. I wonder if they still have that box in this politically correct world. One thing that Joliet does have in common is that it is as segregated as Chicago. I grew not knowing how segregated Chicago was. We were poor enough that we mainly lived in neighborhoods that were equal parts black, Hispanic, and white. I still try to live in those neighborhoods but my taste for good food and variety of bars and restaurants have me living on the outskirts of those neighborhoods, but the encroachment of the rich white into my neighborhood have me longing to move back into Humboldt park. But of course I want to move into one of the newly built luxury condos in Humboldt park. I am against gentrification, but I want to be one of the last white people let in before they stop letting them in.

I couldn't live in joliet. I might save money if I did. The cost of living is less. I probably wouldn't go out as much. Who am I kidding? I would be dragged out just like I was last night. I wasn't so much dragged as convinced. And I kind of helped convince myself. Megs was working last night. My favorite bartender in one of my least favorite bars. She is more than a bartender, she is my friend outside the bar. I attended her wedding. I work with her best friend who is now technically her sister in law. She is one of those people that everyone would describe as good people. There is a difference I think between being a good person and being good people. I don't know why exactly, and wouldn't be able to explain it. There just is.

I was very happy to see her, and her me. She came out from behind the bar to give me a hug which made my trip worthwhile. I sat and talked with her for a while then said I better go say hi to the kids, but I'll be back to talk. She said ok. There were 4 other people in the bar other than me, matador, aborama, and special k. I figured Megs would have plenty of time to talk. So I sat with the kids. Abs almost immediately dragged me to the bar for a shot. I really don't want a shot. You don't want a shot? No, I don't. So if I said Irish Car Bombs you say no? I hung my head in shame. Don't you hate when your friends know your weaknesses. That is why your best friends are always your worst enemies. So we compromise and do Southern Bitches, which is only the greatest shot ever invented. The Irish Car Bomb being a close second. But you really should have a semi-decent buzz going before you imbibe a car bomb. And/or be prepared to ride the rails off the crazy train.

I sit back down at our table and Special K soon leaves, just as the bar is going from dead empty to crazy packed. On a Sunday. At midnight. I think how do they get busy on a Sunday. Then I remember that I am in Joliet, and that most of the bars in Joliet close at midnight on a Sunday. Except this one. Lucky us. There goes any chance of any real conversation with Megs. In addition to the dregs of Joliet, in enters Sarah and BS. BS is her name and what she spouts all day long. I've frequently say that if I lost my hands I wouldn't be able to talk. And I'm not even Italian. If BS lost the power of speech I don't think she'd be able to move her hands. Or anything else for that matter. I don't think I have ever seen her go more than five minutes without speaking. It is now 11:57 and I notice that Matador has a fair bit of his beer left to finish, and I say you better hurry you only have 3 minutes left. I know that he is getting his wisdom teeth pulled in the morning. He says I have and hour and three minutes, I only have to be NPO (nothing by mouth) for 8 hours. I say then we should get a pizza. He was just munching down a bag of chips to get some food in him prior to the fast. The four of us agree on one cheese and one sausage. They don't have just cheese. I get a No Worries from Matador and the order is placed. I get another drink and the empty stomach and the recockulously large pours are apparently getting to me because I am in old stories from the ER mode because I spend the next 15-20 minutes telling crazy stories. Then... Mmmmm the pizza smells goood. Everyone else sniffs the air apparently the scent hasn't wafted over to them. And I say...It smells like toast. I does says Sarah. The other 3 give us weird looks. No, it really smells like toast. And I am transported back to my childhood on a Saturday morning. Don't you smell it I say it smells like Saturday morning. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash brown potatoes in my Mom's kitchen. And toast. The toast ties it all together. Because it is the last thing made and that smell means time to eat. Everything is ready, let's say grace. I get even weirder looks and I turn to look to see if the pizza is ready and Megs is standing there with a pizza in front of her on the bar with her hands on either side of the pizza. And as I walk up I see her face. It is one of the saddest faces I have ever seen. It is face that says I just broke mom's favorite vase, or I lost your favorite book, or I killed your dog in the driveway, or...

Or I burnt your pizza. She was all I'm so sorry. It is on me. And I look at this pizza and think what are you talking about. Yes, the edge of the crust is black, yes the cheese is a fairly dark brown possible a little black at the edge of one side. But it is also the I just had 3 drinks and a shot, no food in 6 hours, it's midnight pizza. And it smells like, well it smells like toast and that for some reason at that moment makes me happiest of all. I told her to charge me for it. She doesn't. And the next pizza was perfection. Minus the smell of course.

We talk some more, we drink some more, we are still there at closing. We leave. We go back to the humble abode of Abs and the Matador. To the happy greetings of the craziest and ugliest dogs I know. (one is crazy the other is ugly) And I am wide awake. Matador makes a beeline for his room. Abs and I decide to watch the first season of Lost. She barely makes it past the first 10 minutes. I make it through four episodes.

I wonder why I am tired the next day.

I want to thank you for what you did, what you did

I want to thank tony pierce for referring more hits to my site than I have generated this month so far. It would help if I had posted more than once this month. There really is a good Vegas story in my head I just hope to get it out.

I also want to thank strayfarce for recommending http://www.ifoundyourcamera.blogspot.com/ because so far that is my best bet at finding the owner of the lost camera.


While I'm at it I guess I should thank Brother for getting a kickass comped suite at the MGM for NYE in Vegas. It's a shame no one else saw that suite, but I am glad I did.

I want to thank the MGM for inviting us and installing a shower head that provides so much water pressure that it exfoliates your skin while you shower.





I want to thank the chef at the Brand Steakhouse for providing a Chicago steakhouse quality steak for me to consume. And those Au Gratin potatoes could give Carson's a run for their money.

I want to thank the very attractive girls at Diablo's Cantina for wearing lingerie and pouring drinks down my throat like pouring gasoline into a car. I was fueled up I'll tell you that.

Have you seen this woman

She was last seen drunk off her ass at the Monte Carlo Hotel trying to leave Diablo's cantina and falling down the stairs. I helped her up the stairs, took a picture with her tried to call her friends from her phone but she couldn't tell me who to call, so I sat her down in a chair, turned around to find Brother and when I turned back she was gone. And no one around had seen where she had gone. Now I would just say a brief prayer that she found her friends and call it a day, but she left me in possesion of her camera. That leads to a dilemma. What the hell do I do with this thing and how do I find her.

I know some of you what say, find her what for? Dude you have a new camera. I don't know why my conscience won't let me think like that, even though my current camera has a broken screen, chews threw batteries like cracker jacks, is one more fall from oblivion, I would still like to return it so if you have any suggestions on how to find a needle in a haystack let me know.