Happy Retirement, Dad

Today, I want to throw a shout out to my Dad as this is his last day of work. He is retired as of the end of the business, today. He has put in a little over thirty nine years at Sears and Roebuck’s. That is truly amazing. He is one of the last of a dying breed. No one works that long for one company anymore. Considering my longest streak at any job was Kmart at seven years, I feel it is truly impressive.

What also is impressive is how he worked his way up the chain. He started out on the docks at Sears when they had a plant over on 63^rd street near Midway. From there he worked his way up until he was running his own plant. Not bad for a guy with only a St. Laurence High School education. I am sure my Dad must have mixed feelings today. I’m positive, he is glad to be retired, but you can’t work somewhere thirty nine years and not have a place in your heart reserved for it. It has to be difficult to walk away from that.

All of these years at Sears could have never happened if Tootsie Roll had just called him back. As the story goes, (or as I have been told numerous times) he interviewed at the candy plant on State Road and Cicero and was told he had the job. He was told to expect a call, which never came. In the mean time he got the job at Sears and the rest is history.

So, I want to congratulate my Pop’s and I sure hope he enjoys his retirement. I know my Father, and I know it will only take a couple of weeks before he gets bored and goes out and gets another job. He is taking a bartending class, and has talked about doing that part time. Whatever he chooses, I can guarantee one thing, he will be successful at it. The man just does not know any other way then going to work, and working your ass off. In today’s workplace that makes you a star.

I Hate Being Sick

I know I have not posted anything in a week. I am sure the world stopped for all five people who read this. Well the reason for my absence is that I was sick as all hell. I had a sore throat. Now, I have had sore throats before, but this thing was a motherfucker. It started off as a scratchy nuisance on Saturday night. By Sunday evening I was in some serious discomfort as talking and swallowing (there goes my social life) became difficult.

I am probably the worst sick person in the world. I hate being sick. I know who likes it, but I seriously suck at it. I try to deny being sick to the very last second until I can ignore my ailment no more. First off, I can’t afford to get sick. I have too much to do around the house and to many social engagements I don’t want to miss. For example this Saturday is the Annual Christmas Party we have every year with my friends. I was looking forward to it. Unless, I am missing a limb I am going to try and make it. The problem is that there is nothing worse when you have a sore throat then drinking a beer. So, I may have to dip into the hard liquor at the party.

Another reason I hate being sick is that it is fucking boring. I have always been someone that needs to get out of the house. I usually get a cooped up feeling very quickly whenever I am chained to a bed or my house. Not that I don’t like being home and watching TV but, it gets old real fast. I have a short attention span and I get bored quickly. Well the last couple days I had been relegated to home confident and I was bored out of my mind. I tried to catch up on some stuff I had tivo’ed but as I said it gets old real quick. But, along with the pain I was in, the illness was knocking all the energy out of me so, I really could not do much.

Joyce was kind of enough to play nurse and try as best she could to tend to me. Her remedies are eating a lot of soup and drinking a lot of tea. She also pushes the vitamin C on me. (you would think she is on the orange growers of America’s teat.) I had so much tea that I was making non stop trips to the bathroom on a pretty regular basis. I pray that I did not contaminate her with what ever I had, as I don’t have nearly as good of a bedside manner as she does.

Today I feel a little better. My throat still hurts but while the pain was a 9 on a scale of 10 on Monday, today it is like a 4. I should be good to go by the weekend. I am back at work as well. My boss and co-workers insist if you are sick stay home. I have the luxury of working from home so the logic is why come in and possibly spread it around if I can do most of my job at home. But, I must say I am actually glad to be back in the office. One more day at home watching daytime TV would have turned my mind to mush.

The Turkey Bowl

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I will be making three stops on Nick’s Chicago Family Tour. Back in my late teens and early twenties, my friends and I would play football every year. It was something of a tradition. I realize now I am far too old and out of shape to play tackle football (which is stupidly what we would play without any padding on what so ever.) Still, every year my Uncle John, (who is approaching 60) and I play a short game of catch before eating. I have some interesting memories from those classic Turkey Bowls of yesteryear. Here are just a few.

The Shit Bowl – When we first moved into our house in Willow Springs there was this vacant empty lot across the street from our house. Most of the neighborhood used this as a place to walk their dogs. The dogs would use the vast grassy area as their personal toilets pissing and shitting wherever they saw fit. For some reason my friends and I decided that this would me a great place to play a tackle football game on Thanksgiving morning.

We were dodging Fido bombs all over the place as we tried to concentrate on catching and defending passes. The main details about the game itself that I remember were that of burning Mike Doyle on a consistent basis. Our friend Mike Doyle was a bit of a braggart when it came to sports. He thought he was the best at everything. So, I never felt guilt about making him eat shit. He was on the opposite team that year. (Every year was the fight of who was going to have Doyle on their team as no one wanted him as it usually meant a loss.) Dean Bestwina, was on my team and was quarterbacking. I told him, “Anytime, you see Doyle covering me one on one, I am going deep. I can burn him every time,” which is exactly what I did. I can’t remember the final score but it wasn’t pretty.

The Snow Bowl – One year, we were all set to play at the park by St. Fabian’s. The night before Thanksgiving it snowed. The next day it was cold as all hell and the ground was frozen solid and covered in white powder. Yet, being young and stupid we soldiered on and played anyway.

It was so cold out you could not throw the ball or catch it. It was a defensive struggle which is rare in a pickup football game. After we had played for awhile we were all cold and wet (and not in a good way.) A total of one touchdown had been scored and it was by the team I was not on. As we could no longer take it, a decision was made. Our team had the ball. If we did not score the game would be over. So, Mike Connors (Chuck to his friends) our fearless leader at QB started marching us down the field with short dink and dunk passes. At this point we were so cold and miserable we just sucked it up and started playing. I could not feel my hands or feet. I was sure I had incurred frostbite, but hey this was a game for bragging rights for a year. I was going to tough it out.

We had the momentum and were driving for the tying score. I go out for a pass and the guy covering me falls down in the snow. I am wide open. Chuck hits me with a pass and I see nothing by daylight ahead of me. I am sure I am going to score a TD, to tie the game. I got closer to the end zone when out of nowhere my friend Chris came from my blindside and punched the ball out of my frozen hands and forced a fumble. He fell on it and the game was over. I had to live a year with that shame of having lost the game.

The Shoot-Out Bowl – Another year we played in Bedford Park behind our friend Zar’s house. It was unseasonably warm out that year. (Proving November’s weather in Chicago can be quite fickle.) That year no one could stop anyone. I also played the game of my life. I was playing QB, which is something I rarely did. I could do no wrong. (I admit I was picking on Doyle for most of the game.) It was back and forth, as both teams scored at will. Eventually, my team took a lead and the other team tied it on what was going to be the last possession. So, we decided to play sudden death, next score wins. I got sacked on third down so it was pretty much Hail Marry time. I dropped back and threw a rainbow of a pass as far as I could. Thankfully, Scott Woodrum (who was on my team) ran down and caught the pass and my team won. It goes down as my top moment of any Turkey Bowl I played in.

The ER Bowl – The last Turkey Bowl I played in was the ER bowl. I can’t remember exactly how old I was but, I remember it was at the park by St. Fabian’s again. People were dropping like flies. I remember Chuck who had bad knees to being with, injuring his knee early on. Someone else threw out their shoulder. I was doing okay, until I decided to try to run a kickoff back. I caught the ball and started running. I saw a tackler in front of me so, I tried to make a juke move to avoid the tackle and in the process sprained my arch. I wound up spending Thanksgiving morning on crutches as I could not put any weight on my foot. At that point the realization came to me that, maybe I was getting to old to be playing tackle football.

Still, on Thanksgiving morning I still get a little nostalgic and a small (very small) part of me misses the ritual. Running around, improperly dressed for the conditions, playing a homo-erotic game can be quite a good way to start your holiday.

March Photos

Here are some pictures from the march. Again, I was drunk when I took some of these so, please don’t judge the quality of the photos.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/43299774@N00/sets/72157603243962117/

March Results

Well, we finished the march on Saturday. Let me just say, man do I feel old. I was out of commission all day Sunday trying to recover. I want to throw a huge shout out to my wife Joyce, for picking our asses up and saving us cab fare. We meet up at Dell’s mom’s house to start things off like always and ventured east down 79^th street. Here is a brief rundown of each bar we visited.

Papa T’s – And it began. I knocked back a Moretti's, maybe the only Italian beer that I like. I was surprised they carried it so, when I saw it I jumped on it. The bar was pretty dense and there was not much of a crowd for a Saturday night. They had some retro 80’s music coming out of the jukebox (a personal favorite Talk Talk’s, Its My Life.) We bellied up to the bar and watched a little of the Black Hawk’s game on one TV as the classic film, A Walk to Remember was playing on the other TV. All in all while the place is not my favorite at least they have a decent beer selection. (By the way, I was still lucent at this point, as I get drunker the details of each bar may get hazier.)

Tic and Tin – Dark and dingy as ever, the TNT was pretty dead. I consumed an Old Style as quickly as possible so, we didn’t have to spend much time in the dump. We sat at the bar and tried as best we could to fit in. To our left were a 40ish single woman and a 50ish gentleman in the process of hooking up. It was a sight, let’s just leave it at that. There was a college football game on the TV and there was some music playing but, I can’t remember what it was. For my money, the Tic and Tin is my least favorite bar on the march.

Q Ball – A new participant on the march. As we left the Tin, Rob noticed a sign for the place. Q Ball used to be located in the strip mall on 87^th and Harlem. Apparently they moved to the Strip mall located just north of 79^th street, that used to house the Auchan and the Omni. While, it technically is not on 79^th, it is close enough, so we ventured in. There, I choked down a Budweiser. I used to be a big Bud guy. In my late teens, I drank Stroh’s. (Basically, because Dell’s brother drank Stroh’s and since he was our alcohol source, we drank the same thing.) Then I as most of Suburban Chicago drank Miller Genuine Draft as I became of the legal drinking age. By my mid twenties I was drinking Budweiser simply because, a friend of mine on the Peace Frogs (one of my softball teams) drank it and he bought a lot of rounds and always bought Budweiser. Then, one day after it had been a few years, I had a Miller High Life and that has been my brand ever since.

But, I digress. Q Ball wound up being really nice. Yes, billiards is the main draw of the place as they had a ton of pool tables. I am not a big pool guy, so the three of us found a nice little area in front of the projection screen they had set up. It was pretty sweet as they had couches to lounge on and a couple of massage chairs. Rob put a fin in one of the massage chairs, and I think he needed a towel when the fifteen minute massage was over. We watched the end of the Hawks game and as irony would have it Gwen Stefani’s bad version of Its My Life was played on the jukebox at some point. Q Ball was actually rather nice, and I would go back on a non-march.

The Sayre Lounge – The Sayre was pretty crowded all things considered. It was a bit of an older crowd, (yes even older then our late thirties asses.) I looked over the beer selection and ordered a Corona. I have come to like the Sayre, ever since new owners took over the place. Our posse was once kicked out a long time ago as we were marked for having gone to the Garden bar (the name of the Tic and Tin back in the day.) We were told we don’tt server Garden people here. Being tagged as a Garden person still gives me the cold sweats at night from time to time. Now, the place is much friendlier. Someone put some Thin Lizzy on the jukebox which wetted my appetite. So, I threw in a buck and played Jailbreak and War Pigs by Black Sabbath. Dell took three leaks in the fifteen minutes we were there and were then off for our first good walk of the evening.

Champs – The walk from the Sayre to Champs is really not that bad. However, the wind was blowing right in our faces and about half way down I realized I myself had to take a major leak. As I held it in, in the throws of a light drizzle and wind gusts I was never so happy to see the bright Champs sign calling us in. I took my leak and ordered a Pabst Blue Ribbon, a personal favorite. Usually Champs has bands playing and we feared having to pay a cover charge. Thankfully, when we walked in, the bouncer at the front asked if we were here for the band, we told him no, and we able to get in without the cover. It is a big bar, but it seemed to be pretty empty. We were able to secure a table and enjoyed our PBR’s. Knowing Frank’s Place was next Rob ordered a pizza so it would be ready when we got there. Some bad pseudo-metal was blaring over the speakers so, we drank our drinks and got the hell out of there.

Frank’s Place – I swear, the bartender at Frank’s Place has been working there, since our first marches we did back in the mid 90’s. Frank’s Place is where we consume our first shots of the evening. It is your choice so, I figured I would pick the pussiest shot I could think of. Outside of an Apple Pucker, Root Beer Schnapps is about the weakest shot out there. It is about the equivalent of a Bartels and James wine cooler. I chased the shot with a Miller Genuine Draft. The bar wasn’t packed but it wasn’t dead either. No music was on, so I headed up to the jukebox and played some tunes. (Memory gets a little hazy at this point. I think I played Tubthumping by Chumbawamba in my set, thus proving my inebriation.) We chowed the pizza we had ordered and drank our drinks. The pizza was pretty good, form what I remember of it. The walk after Frank’s Place to the Castle is the longest stretch of the march without a stop. Georgios really needs to stay open longer if for no other reason, it breaks up that walk. So, as we finished up we bundled ourselves up to prepare for the walk ahead.

The Castle – The Castle in two words was a mob scene. They were hosting a birthday party and it must have been someone pretty young because the place was packed with a lot of twentysomethings. We were lucky enough to settle into the very corner of the bar like the old men we were. We could not have looked more out of place. The Castle is the bar, where we have our traditional shot of Jagermeister. I hate Jager, I always have and always will. But, Rob insists on the tradition, so I knocked it down chasing it with a Miller High Life. Whoever organized the party also had a DJ there and he was playing bad, hypnotic, monotonous beat, dance songs that the youngsters seemed to like. I saw Jim, the owner and one time sponsor of our softball team. He is a really nice guy, and reason enough to keep frequenting the Castle on nights when the usual bar flies frequent the joint. We eventually knocked back our drinks and headed off to the last bar of the night, Durbin’s

Durbin’s – At long last we made it to Durbin’s. As per usual, it was karaoke night and try as we might we could not block it out. I drank my last beer of the night, in a Rolling Rock. My strategy is to save the lighter beers for the end of the night, as the last thing you want to do at the end of a march is force down a Heineken. We also did our last shot of the night. We traditionally knock back a whiskey. I ordered the weakest whiskey I could think of in B&B and told the waitress if they didn’t have that to just bring me a shot of Cuervo. The waitress brought the shots, and didn’t say anything about not having B&B and since she didn’t have a salt shaker and lime with her, I assumed it was not tequila. So, when I knocked the shot back, I was surprised to taste the warm flavors of Mexico’s finest sprits. Thankfully, at this point Joyce called and asked if we needed a ride home. In proof of her sainthood she picked all three of us up and dropped all of us off without one word of complaint.

So, I have another year before another 79^th street march. I took pictures of the events and I will post them in the next day or two as embarrassing as they are. I need to dry out in December as January brings with it the football playoffs and the merriment that comes with it.

My Marching Papers

The boys and I have yet another 79^th street march scheduled for tomorrow night. I must say that I am very out of shape for this one. I tried drinking a little in KC, but the bar in the Radisson I was at, was kind of lame and since I was by myself I kind of felt like the weird old guy at a bar drinking by himself.

So, Saturday we head off to brave the temperatures and the bar flies that visit the bars on 79^th street. We will again begin the trek at Papa T’s (the old Angie’s, and man I miss that place as I am jonesing for a ham and cheese sachwich.) We will then head east and end at Durbin’s, home of bad Saturday night karaoke where I can guarantee a bad version of You’re the One That I Want being warbled out by some drunken middle aged women.

Still it is nice to re-live my youth and hit the bars of Burbank. My wife still doesn’t quite get the allure of these pub crawls we go on, and I guess I can understand why. I mean we are getting a little old for this but, it is a tradition and I am a traditional kind of guy. The reason we picked 79^th street to begin with was that most of the bars on the trek were dumps and we would never go to these bars if not for a march.

I have never gone to Frank’s Place other then on a march. I have gone to Tic and Tin one time other then a march and that was when my friend’s band was playing there. I went to the Sayre one other time as well and that was this year to see a Cub Playoff game. I hate Papa T’s and would never go there. Everytime I enter Durbin’s I get depressed as it reminds me of my early 20’s and how much time I used to spend in there. As for Champ’s Rock Room, I am way too old to be hanging out in there.

Yet, I grew up in and around the area. 79^th street, takes me back to my roots in some weird way and that is why I still like this march. Our 95^th street crawl takes you too much better bars. Yet, there is something about the O.G. 79^th street march that brings warmth to the cockles of my heart.

We have long talked about a Ridgeland and Roberts Road march. Ridgeland is do-able as far as I can tell. If you start at Bennigans in the Mall, (which would mark the first time I have entered that establishment in over a decade) we would proceed south. You have the Chili’s (I know, lame) then you would hit Fiddlers Elbow (an Irish pub.) Across the street from there you have Jack Desmond’s (a place that has had at least ten different names in my lifetime.) From Desmond’s you cross 103^rd and hit Jessie’s Tavern and Nick’s. That is six bars already. From there you have two more in The O’Connor Tap and the local VFW. (Which is the saddest bar on earth.)

The Roberts Road march would have to be an all day affair as there is a great distance between bars. We would have to start it at All Stars, which is like 81^st and Roberts and again head south. The next bar would be Szaroka’s (where we would be the only non polish speaking patrons.) After Szaroka’s it would be on to Corleone’s Pizza, which serves beer. I haven not been there in over twenty years. After that you have a pretty decent walk. The next bar would be Roberts Road House which is nearly a mile from Corleone’s.

After the House, you have the Dirty Sock (a bar I’ve been to once and was not impressed with.) Then it is on to one of my least favorite bars on the south side Kowals. (If you like Nascar and toothless women, Kowals is your place.) Already that is six bars and you would have traveled two miles. So, you can see why this would have to be a march that starts early. After stumbling out of Kowals it would be on to Vito and Nick’s in the strip mall that contains the Jewel. Again, a nice walk awaits you after that because the next closest watering hole after that is Henry’s. (Another bar you feel real old in, as it is a 4 AM bar and plays god awful music.) Lastly, we would close the march at Zante’s Lounge and need a fresh shower.

Maybe next year we can finally slay the dragon and complete these walks as well. Till then, we will have to just be happy marching along 79^th street, and enjoying all the adventures, that come along with it.

Back in Town

Well I am back home after a couple of days in KC. A couple of quick notes about Kansas City. They might have the worst drivers in America. I could not believe how bad some of these people operate large two ton vehicles. I had cars pulling out in front of me, drivers in the left lane doing twenty, and people making illegal turns all over the place.

Also, I realize have harped on their airport a tad, but after surveying it again, I came to the realization, that it just might be the smallest airport I’ve ever been to. It makes Midway look like O’Hare by comparison. It is a complete dump and that is being kind. I did spot Brett Michaels of Poison fame in the rental car hub with a small entourage. I was tempted to yell out, every rose has it’s thorns at him, but resisted the urge.

I did eat some killer barbeque. I made the trip to Oklahoma Joe’s. See their website here, http://www.oklahomajoesbbq.com/ Man they have a killer sauce. Last time I was there, I made the mistake of ordering a full slab of ribs not realizing they were beef ribs not pork. I much prefer pork ribs as beef are a little too tough for me. So, I ordered pulled pork, with a side of baked beans. I think I still have gas from it, but it was well worth it. I also grabbed a bottle of their sauce and it somehow survived the trip in my checked baggage.

As for my work shit, it went alright, even though I did have to work my ass off more then I thought I would. I had to ship back three boxes to our Chicago office. I had three printers that were heavy as a mother fucker. Thrifty rented me a Dodge Caliber, (which is a piece of shit.) It is a hatchback so, I figured I would be ok transporting the boxes from the office in KC to the Kinko’s nearby so I could FedEx them. Stupidly, Dodge has this roll bar in the back that serves no purpose. So, I had to squeeze the three boxes in the back and front seats.

I got to Kinko’s and of course they didn’t have a cart so, I had to make three trips from the car to the Kinko’s lugging a heavy ass box. It kind of sucked. I am amazed the boxes got back to Chicago at all as the IQ challenged lady running the FedEx counter at Kinko’s didn’t instill me with a lot of confidence. But I walked in and poof, they arrived.

Hopefully, this is my last trip of the year. When I was at the banks that I worked at December was usually a slow month. At the travel agency I work at, that is usually not the case, as a lot of people are making travel arrangements. Still, for me in here in IT, I don’t have any more trips planed for 2007. That is good news because while traveling always is a pain in the ass for work, doing it in the winter months is even more of a hassle.

On the Road Again

Next week again the postings may be sparse, as I have to travel to Kansas City for work. Unlike most work trips, this one I will not be online much as I have to do a move which means a lot of monkey work for Nick. The good part of this is that of all the places that I have to travel for work, I would probably rank Kansas City my favorite. They have kick ass barbeque joints and a pretty decent night life in the downtown area. I work in the Midwest region so, I support all of our offices in and around the area. Here is a quick ranking of the places I have to travel for work

Kansas City – Again great BBQ and a lot of nice bars (With Oklahoma Joe’s being my favorite BBQ joint.) The airport is a complete pit however. Still, all in all KC is not a bad place as at least there are things to do and they stick me in the Radisson which is a really nice hotel compared to some of the dumps my company has stuck me in.

Minnesota – I have had to travel here more then anyplace as this is where our corporate headquarters are located. Minnesota has its charms but can get boring. Once you’ve seen the Mall of America once, you are good. I try to get booked in the Le Bourget Hotel for its location and amenities. There are at least things to do in the Twin Cities. I highly suggest hitting St. Paul as it has a lot of interesting history and some nice older buildings and homes. The airport itself is pretty modern, so at least it has that going for it.

Novi, Mi. – We have an office in Novi which I have had to visit. Novi, is a suburb of Detroit. Detroit is a complete pit. Novi is basically like any other suburb in America. It has its standard Appleby’s and Lone Star. They throw me in a Courtyard by Marriott as it is less then a mile from our office. Not a whole heck of a lot to do in the town, but there are worse places to go I guess. Detroit airport is a nice ride from Novi and it is again pretty modern.

Indianapolis – Not my favorite place. First off we drive there. Second were our office is located is in a not so great neighborhood. They put me in a Holiday Inn Express which offers nothing in the way of niceties. You have to travel a little, but there are some good steakhouses in downtown Indy. A boring drive and a place that I try to avoid having to go to at all costs.

St. Louis – Another place my cheap company makes me drive to. I can honestly say, I hate St. Louis. It offers nothing other then Budweiser beer and bunch of mulleted white guys. I stay at a Comfort Suites and it is again, nothing special. Food wise, I stick to steak and shake. Thankfully, I have only had to go there once as my co-worker has family there so, he usually will volunteer for St. Louis duty.

Rock Island – No place worse on God’s green earth. First, they stick me in a Holiday Inn Express, simply because it is that or four hour nap, stabin cabin’s. The whole area is dependent on the Military base and John Deere. There is no nightlife what so ever. My co-worker and I wanted to go to breakfast one morning. We drove around aimlessly for almost an hour before settling on gas station donuts. The drive is about as scenic as an eggshell painted wall. Again, have only been there once and that was enough.

We also have an office in Milwaukee, but I have not had the pleasure of hitting it as of yet. I generally like Water Street in Milwaukee, but that office is usually supported by my co-workers in Minnesota so, it does not look like I will be making a trip there anytime soon.

Four Years of Marital Bliss

I just wanted to post a quick shout out to my wife on our Anniversary. Four years ago today Joyce and I got married at St. Albert’s church in Burbank. The church that my own parents got married at, and the same church my Grandparents had been parishioners of since moving into the area.

Each year with Joyce seems to be better then the last. I can honestly admit that I love being married to her. I am something that I never thought I would be in life and that is content. It is so refreshing and unexpected. I never thought I would meet someone that makes me feel as good about myself, as Joyce makes me feel. I owe her everything I have, as she has been the rock in my life and the piece that was missing.

Hopefully, this doesn’t come off as to sappy. I just want to tell her (as I know she reads this site of vanity called a blog) that I love her and I want to thank her for sticking with me and agreeing to live her life with me. I can honestly say, this is happiest I have ever been in my life, and I owe it all to her.

More Bitching

I have been on vacation so that left me some to make some more observations

There is nothing worse then a woman who was hot, but is now older and has lost her looks – Good looking women are used to getting whatever they want without ever having to lift a finger. Since they are hot most men will walk over hot coals to satisfy even the most outrageous requests they make in the off chance they get to so much as sniff their panties. Because of this they are not really conditioned to be regular members of society.

Sadly, looks eventually fade and these former trophy wives and high school cheerleaders can’t deal with it when men no longer kiss the ground they walk on. They expect the same treatment and can not stand on their own two feet. So, they become extremely bitter about life and others around them. It is sad and kind of pathetic.

Talking on a cell phone turns people into fucktards – Have you ever noticed that talking on a cell phone turns people into walking and talking zombies? First off, they feel the need to shout into the phone so that anyone that is residing in the same zip code can hear their conversation. Then, if they happen to be trying to walk and talk at the same time, they forget how. It seems simple just put one foot in front of the other, repeat. Sadly, when talking on a cell phone people have a tendency to get caught up in their conversations and just come to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk. If you are that uncoordinated, please go off to the side or have a seat and continue your conversation about nothing.

Jimmy Buffet is Satan himself – Are you middle aged and white? Do you own a fanny pack? Do you where a parrot on your head and think you are cool and unique? Well if you answered yes to all three of those questions, I hate to break it to you but you are lame.

Liking Jimmy Buffet is about the most unhip thing I can think of. First off the guy is a complete tool who has fooled millions of the mid life crisis set. The guy is a law suit happy, miser. He will sue anyone at anytime for anything. My favorite lawsuit by Mr. Jagoff was his suit against a Hamburger stand in Hawaii. It seems the name of the place was Burger in Paradise. Of course this place was open long before he wrote that abortion of a song. That didn’t stop Jimmy asshole from suing the place. I mean, what the fuck does he care if a hamburger stand in Hawaii is the same name as his shitty song? Hey, asshole you don’t have exclusive rights to the beach bum lifestyle and tropical drink songs.

The guy’s music is lame and whiter then a skeleton. Barry Manilow has more soul then this ass. For the life of me I don’t get how any one who has the ability to hear could possibly listen to this guy’s attempt at music and like it. I get the whole, laid back, drinking fruity drink’s lifestyle. But this guy does not practice what he preaches. He is a complete shark of a business man. Or haven’t you noticed that his margaritas are $8 and have less liquor in them then a Shirley Temple.

People bitching about Chicago weather in November are pussies – Here is a newsflash, when the calendar turns to November in the Midwest, the weather turns colder. If you don’t like it, move. Quit bitching about it already.

Let me just point this out, it is not cold out yet. Forty degrees is not cold. In the dead of January, these same people are going to be wishing for forty degrees. I personally love this weather. I love living in the Midwest during the fall. It is not to hot, not to cold. The leaves turn into some truly amazing colors. It is brisk enough to wear a light jacket and I am a wind breaker and jean jacket kind of guy. So, I beg the complainers to stop boring the rest of us with your pansy complaints about the weather and grow a dick already and deal with it.

If the Democratic nominee is Hillary Clinton we deserve to lose next November – She is in a word, a fucking conniving back stabber who would sell her soul to Satan just to get elected. She speaks in such a political jargon manner that it is hard to understand just what she stands for.

On top of all that she is so polarizing that she had no chance in a general election. She is perfect fodder for the Right and she will give them plenty of ammunition in their hate campaigns they love to run. I am all for electing a woman President but, does it have to be her? Edwards is our most electable candidate and the one with the best platform. Let’s hope the Democratic voters in Iowa and New Hampshire don’t sink his candidacy before his message has a chance to be heard.

Long Vegas Blog

Another Vegas trip is in the books and I am back at work. While I did have fun in Sin City it was finically probably my worst trip there ever. On my last day of my trip, I was considering either selling blood or giving anonymous hand jobs to conventioneers for ten bucks a pop.

The trip started off on a good note. I reserved everything a couple of months in advance. I booked a room at Harrah’s where I had never stayed but had heard some good things about. A week before we were leaving I got a call from Harrah’s asking me if I would consider switching to Bally’s. It seems Harrah’s needed to do some room inspections and space was going to be a little tight. For my trouble they offered to give me a hundred bucks off of my room and throw me a $100 dollar gift card good for any restaurant at Harrah’s.

So, I jumped on it and looked at it as being up $200 before I ever hit Nevada. We left last Saturday morning on an early Southwest Airlines flight. As much as I hate the cattle call seat assignment policy of Southwest, we actually got on the plane and got to sit together without much issue. The flight was uneventful and we landed. We had reserved a car through Thrifty so we made our way to the car rental portal at the Las Vegas airport. We got in and saw the line at Thrifty. The line was longer then the wait for the American Eagle at Great America.

I contemplated just saying fuck it and taking a taxi, (which is what my friend Rob did) but I knew that we had a large group and we wanted to make a downtown run and some other stops at some point so, I braved the line. It took exactly one hour and five minutes to get the Subaru that Thrifty had waiting for me. That experience would sadly be a prelude of things to come.

We checked into Bally’s and eventually we meet up with our group. We decided to hit downtown and play some down there. I played a couple of poker machines at the Golden Nugget and donked out pretty quickly on those. We then headed over to the Four Queens and I got in on a blackjack table. The dealer there while being very nice was hotter then a red hot poker up your ass. She would have a six showing and then have a five underneath and would draw a face card and get 21. I lost my investment there pretty quickly.

After awhile I got sick of losing, so Joyce and I grabbed dinner at Lillie’s Noodle House located inside the Golden Nugget. While it was a tad pricey the food was pretty damn good as I got a kick ass lemon chicken thing. After eating we headed back to the Queens to meet up with our posse. I played a little video poker and again lost pretty quickly. Finally we pulled up our stakes and headed back to our home base. I got to Bally’s and like I do every night before I hit the sack I play a little. The tables were beyond packed so, I put a $20 in a video poker machine and started winning a little. I got it up to $50 bucks but cashed it out with only my initial $20 investment remaining.

Sunday was football day. The women all went to see Cirque Du Soleil at Treasure Island and the guys all went to the Suncoast off the strip to watch the games and do a little wagering. For the early games I put my money on the Eagles. I would win that one. So being greedy I tried doubling my winnings and for some reason thought it was a good idea to bet on the Jets -3 against Buffalo. That is the Jets who have all of one win. But, I reasoned they were due. Well, they laid a complete and utter egg. The sad thing is my entire crew all had the Jets as well so we all took a bath on that one.

I also played a little blackjack at the Suncoast as well. I was doing pretty good for awhile. Then at some point they switched dealers with that my luck changed. I don’t remember just how many hands in a row I lost. When it was all said and done, I not only lost the winnings I had accumulated, I also blew my initial investment. I left the table with only a one dollar chip to my name. I threw that on 31 (For Halloween) on a roulette table only to have 34 come in.

The only person in my group to win at Suncoast to win was my friend Rob who won $75 bucks on a wheel of fortune slot. Everyone else got their ass kicked. The Suncoast was nice and served its purpose but, we were all happy to get the hell out of there. We got back to our home base and I decided to put down some cabbage on the Red Sox for game 4 of the World Series. Eventually we meet up with the girls and I took Joyce to dinner at The Range, a steak house inside of Harrah’s where I could use that $100 dollar gift certificate. (Of course in the time I waited for Joyce at Harrah’s I donked out on a poker machine at the bar I was playing.)

I had the prime rib and Joyce got the surf and turf. It was decent but I have had better. They did have an Au Gratin potato as a side dish that was killer. After dinner we hooked back up with our friends at Bill’s Gambling Hall. There I played some more black jack and got my ass kicked in record time. I then joined Joyce at the bar and played a little more video poker and my luck was no better with that.

Thankfully, the Red Sox won so, I won back a little of my losses. Our group then headed over to the Casino Royale to play a little and even though I enjoyed many $1 dollar Michelob’s I got my wallet emptied yet again. The tables were pretty crowded so, I again tried my hand at video poker and again lost pretty quickly. I then found a three card poker table (a game I never play) and played a couple of hands and lost yet again. At that point I had, had enough and Joyce and I headed back to Bally’s where before I went to bed, I lost some more. All told Sunday would be the worst day in gambling I have ever had in Vegas.

Monday morning we got up early as we had scheduled a trip to the West Rim of the Grand Canyon. We headed onto a tour bus and made the three hour trek to see the one of the Wonders of the World. It was pretty neat and it was nice to get away from the sounds and sights of Vegas for a little bit. We got back and arranged to meet our group at the Planet Hollywood to hit their buffet. I threw down some coin on the Bronco’s on Monday night, (just so I could watch and not have to root for Brett Favre) and we headed over to meet our group at the buffet.

I must say it is a pretty good smorgasbord. I would rank it right behind the Bellagio (still my favorite) and the Wynn. After over-indulging ourselves we got out of dinner just in time to see Favre throw a bomb to win the game for the Packers and lose the bet for Nick. I put in a ten in a poker machine at Planet Hollywood just to say I gambled there and lost it pretty quickly.

After eating we again hit Bill’s where I got on a blackjack table. At long last the gambling god’s where with me and I stated winning. I was on a roll when Joyce called me to tell me that she was locked out of our room and if I could come over to Bally’s to let her in. I left the table actually ahead of the game for the first time the whole trip.

It turned out the lock on our room had a malfunction and Bally’s locksmith had to get us in. After dealing with that, I met my posse at O’Shea’s another saw dust joint on the strip. The tables were packed so, my friend Chris and I headed over to the bar and played a little video poker where I blew most of my blackjack winnings from Bill’s. After tiring of O’Shea’s someone had the bright suggestion that we hoof it to Slots of Fun.

Slots of Fun is a pretty good distance from where we were but, we all needed to walk off that meal we had eaten. At slots of fun, my friend Chris and I got on a blackjack table. Chris was not doing well, but I was. At one point I had more then doubled my $50 investment. When Joyce finally dragged me out of there, I was still up enough to call the day pretty much even, which made Monday my best day there.

Tuesday was basically a re-boot day. We flew back home, and basically crashed. I don’t even think we ate dinner that night we were so tired. Wednesday, we prepared ourselves for painting the office in our house. Joyce had been wanting to paint that room for months. So, we hit Menards and grabbed some paint, primer and other supplies. We also did a little grocery shopping and ran some other assorted errands.

Thursday Joyce talked me into going to Ikea. As I have mentioned in past posts, Ikea is pretty much akin to a day at the Proctologist for me. There we looked at various book cases and office desks. I am not kidding when I say, I think we were there for over three hours. At one point I was ready for a noose. We battled rush hour traffic and at long last made it home. We ate dinner and prepared the office for the re-modeling.

Friday was basically spent painting. The office was a nice shade of Deep Purple. (We all came out to Montreux.) It took three fucking coats of primer to cover up the walls. My arm was beginning to fall off by the time we applied the last coats of paint to the room, but at long, long last the fucking walls were finally painted.

Saturday was spent putting together the shit we bought at Ikea. Anyone who has been through the hell of putting shit together from Ikea knows my pain. I was supposed to go golfing but, I knew if I wanted to get this shit done I better blow off golfing. After putting together all the crap we started moving all of our shit into our newly remodeled office. I was so tired I crashed out by 10:00.

Sunday was mostly spent at Time Out on LaGrange Road watching football with my friends. After watching the Patriot and Colt’s game I went home, ate some soup my wife made, threw out the ungodly amount of garbage we had and watched Dexter and Curb You’re Enthusiasm before heading off to bed so I could be somewhat refreshed for the work week ahead.