bringing a knife to a gun fight
There’s a manichean arms race going down on the corner of North Ave. and Throop.
Home Depot and Lumber Liquidators are directly across the (very narrow) street from each other, and the tension seems to be getting a bit much for both parties.
and most recently:
Best part of my bus ride to Whole Foods, for sure.
this means just one thing.
January 7 - Nicolas Cage’s birthday
January 8 - David Bowie’s birthday
Con Air/The Labyrinth double feature tonight.
YE OLDE PARTIE TIMES.
holde mine hair, i beg of you.
taking notes on Carrie Brownstein, that octopus of cool who must be allergic to boredom, for my “more swagger in 2012” new year’s resolution.
totally specious excuses I’ve made to myself for taking a cab.
1. I WILL BE BLOWN AWAY BY THIS WIND UNLESS I ENTER A VEHICLE PRONTO.
2. I’m both very late and very important.
3. This club blows.
4. Just got paid. MONEY EVERYWHERE.
5. I need to get a secondhand Kitchen Aid mixer from point A to point B.
6. The Blue Line smells like wet dog today.
7. There is no north side line connecting the Red and Blue lines. I CRY INJUSTICE.
8. I’m too drunk to find Taco Burrito Express #3 unaided.
9. Work said I could expense one (1) cab home from the holiday party but I shall use it to get to the after-after party.
10. I just really want a smoothie and I want it now.
Most definitely went to see Chicago’s own AcroCats Cat Circus Meowmas Special today.
50% odds that a cat at any given time would run into the audience rather than jump through the Christmas wreath, push the mini sleigh, or play drums in the Rock Cats band (chicken on percussion).
Facebook friends can watch this, I think.
anthems for a twenty three year old girl.
charge that cab
lose that phone
sleep in your clothes
no dreams when you sleep
new holiday meal strategy.
Napalm the jungle of the lone veg option at the Thanksgiving table (sweet potato + black bean enchiladas with tomatillo mmm) before it even leaves the oven, leaving it ALL FOR ME, WHAT UP.
I salute you, chipotle in adobo.
I Love Rihanna’s “We Found Love” as Much As Ri and Her Symbolic Boyfriend Love Smoking 10 Cigarillos At Once.
1. It is a fucking study in verisimilitude. The singing seabass on the wall of crappy fish and chips place? Genius. THEY HAVE NOTHING BUT EACH OTHER, GUYS. CLEARLY.
2. It gives me the emotional rush of watching a shitshow unfold, a la Skins (UK, please) without needing to find something else to do every 72 minutes.
3. It’s an A+ contribution to my ALL RIHANNA ALL THE TIME 5K POWER MIX.
4. Who knew Rihanna + bf were the only two People of Color in this hopeless place?
5. It’s a cautionary tale for drugs, acid wash, Creepers, Rihanna’s Irish (?) accent, and homemade tattoos. Fantastic.
6. The supporting character in this story is really Rihanna’s garter tights and 238492 rings at once. I have slightly toned down this fashion inspiration in my quest to be the Attention Seeking Biddy while out and about, and it’s working.
BIG DUMB DISCO DONE RIGHT. SOAK IT UP, AMERICA.
[Full disclosure: words I had to spellcheck to write this post include cigarillos and verisimilitude.]
MY ANACONDA DON’T WANT NONE if you say no, because I respect your boundaries.
