There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Monday, August 9, 2010


As in today is August 9, 2010. That won't happen for another century folks. Of course, you can say the same thing about 8/8/10, 8/10/10 and, well, you get the idea.

There were definitely some things and also some stuff that I meant to talk about but my brain is operating slowly. For me, diminished physical activity leads to a good degree of decreased mental activity.

I was lucky enough to attend Lollapalooza this weekend with roughly 239,999 other people. That is not meant as sarcasm, because the crowd is part of the quality of the experience. I always find that sort of outdoor festival deal pretty exhausting, all the more this time round as I continue to hobble about like a dipshit. I don't really know that dipshits hobble, but this one does.

In general it just reminded me of the good that results from saying yes to things. Like a young couple complimenting me on my mismatched shoes. Like the teenage kid with the water bottle full of cheap vodka trying to stay standing. Like the droves of folks dodging traffic, hopping an eight-foot fence, then sprinting through a VIP section to hop one more eight-foot fence. Shit's always more fun when you sneak in.

I was surprised at the crowd for Mumford and Sons, not because they don't kick ass (because they do) but because I had no idea they were, well, so popular. That was mildly redundant, to put it mildly, but that's kind of my thing. Hard not to like "Little Lion Man."

But because nobody likes it when people are overly positive (let's face it, it's annoying because no one should ever be that happy right?) I can briefly reference my completely unfounded dislike for actor Jesse Eisenberg, reminders stemming from a sighting of said person outside Second City the other day.

But since I could really give a shit about that guy, for a true negative (but also not a negative because it's a digital photo) here's a shot of the retarded bruise on the back of my leg. For a week or more there I couldn't figure out how it was that a bike ran into me at top speed and I had no mark to show for it. Well no more. Thanks delayed bruising.

Next year we can all look forward to 9/10/11.

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