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Okay, the show has been moved to Sunday.
Come and enjoy the hooligan stylings of the Dirtbox Racers!
Town Hall Pub
3340 N. Halsted
9pm $5.00
Sister Goodpussy
Dirtbox Racers
Lord Mike's Dirty Calypsonians
Come one come all!
It would seem our illustrious bastard in chief and the little woman are gonna be on Dr. Phil today. On it's own, the fact that he's doing daytime chat telly is disturbing enough, but in the ad they're discussing child rearing, and having Dr. Phil asking, in that hillbilly voice of his "Are you spankers? Did you spank 'em??"...yeurgh. I feel the need to take a scalding hot shower with an S.O.S. pad now.
I am stealing this link from Smich because I think it's super super cool.
I can't help thinking I am forgetting someone's birthday...so if I know you, and it's your birthday - I suck.
Dahlings....so last night I ended up being excruciatingly awake until some time after 5. Obviously Murphy was watching, as my temp agency called me at the asscrack of 8:15 to send me to work. As you know I am in no position to decline work so I hauled my incoherent backside out of bed and got in the shower. Thank dog I had the foresight last night to brew coffee so that this morning I could have ice coffee. Off I went, so tired I was feeling ever so slightly stoned, armed against the world with only my walkman (loaded with a most *excellent* mix sent to me by the lovely and talented Receptionista) and my Hello Kitty travel mug, loaded with cold caffeinated sugary goodness. On the plus side I was sent to the place where they buy me lunch, and ask me to do very little, so beyond occasionally picking up the phone, some copies, fed exes and a little light typing and faxing, I've done nothing but sit here and feel gravity tugging at my eyelids...hopefully I can cop a snooze on the train home before I head on out to work...the plan after work is that all the kids are going to neo for metal night in honour of Miss K's birthday...much as I love her and would be highly entertained I'm sure, I will be making every effort to act like a grown up and come home after work and go to bed...but I make no promises.
In the interest of furthering my smoke and mirrors grown up act, today, since I'm in this office with all this handy office equipment at my disposal, I finally printed out my voter registration and dropped it in the post. I actually lay awake for some time one night having a minor panic attack thinking that I would forget to do it in time and Das Fucktard would get re-elected and it would be ALL MY FAULT BECAUSE I DIDN'T VOTE. So soon I will get my voter registration card, and everything will be just fine...
Friday night Miss E. came to stay for the night and celebrate her birthday...due to my being poor and her not being much of a bar-goer, we went to B&V for the Anchorman Dodgeball combo, then to Matilda for a drink, Mr. Chris came and joined us. Miss E. seemed to enjoy herself, although she did feel a little squiffy the next day after indulging in two whole cocktails. Saturday night I worked the Robert Randolph and the Family band show - not to my taste - sort of a jam band for people who bathe...after the show most of the crew convened over at Matilda, Mr. Chris showed up to join us, there was much merriment, then off we went to Berlin. Having quickly had enough of Berlin, I split with J. and we came back to my place to watch The Harder They Come, stayed awake faaaaarrrr too long, as has become the case on Saturday nights/Sunday mornings...This evening found me at Chez Hamstress for pizza, we were joined by Q and Silent Ron, then we all headed over to the Century Theater, where we met up with Scarrie, Mr. Chris, Jakey and his lovely wife, and all went to see End of the Century - which was just brilliant. I got a little misty at the end when they talked about Joey's death, but this flick is a definite must see for any Ramones fan.
I am now gonna go to bed and TRY to get some sleep, despite being on the just-short-of-wired end of wide awake. Gotta get up early tomorrow morning, harrass the temp agencies, and hit the job thing hard. I've been slacking on the resumes lately...but there seem to be more jobs becoming available, and despite how discouraged I have been as of late, if I don't at least APPLY for a job, I suppose I won't get one..will I...I mean, I *have* been sending out resumes, but not as many as I should be. Much as I am enjoying the hooligan lifestyle I've been living as of late, it really has to end before my liver inflates to the size of a sofa cushion and I start to look like a dried up townie war pig.
Also, a belated happy birthday to Mr. Susan! How old are we now? 30? Who's a big boy?? YOU are! yes you are a big boy....wuzza wuzza wuzza.
Hold the phone...DAMMIT! Damn you FOX channel for putting Waking Ned Devine on for the late movie...I adore this movie, and HOW am I supposed to sleep when there is James Nesbitt to look at??
Just popped out to the shop across the street. Right now my little piece of Damen Ave is a complete clusterfuck of skip trucks, and concrete trucks...I think they're pouring part of the foundation for the new building today. anyhoo. Lots of construction workers. As I was passing back through one of them looked me right in the face and said "You have very nice breasts".
I didn't know construction workers were allowed to make remarks of that nature any more. It was unusual...although not upsetting...I mean - can't fault the guy for telling the truth.
Have I ever mentioned yelling man? Another one of the local characters. The first time I saw him he was yelling at/kicking the shit out of a newspaper box. He appears to be a very angry man...I've also seen him pointing his hand, as if shooting a gun, at passers by, going BANG! BANG! and cackling gleefully to himself...due to this, he's one of those people that I pass on the street making a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with...anyway. He's taken to greeting me on the street with an "a-HA!" and pointing at me. The first time he did this was about a week or so ago, and he went on to inform me that Dino "wanted me to know that that day the construction in the lot next door was going to be particularly loud". Now...Dino works in the storefront unit in my building, and although I know he's out there chatting with the construction workers all the time, I HIGHLY doubt that he told crazy yelling guy to inform me SPECIFICALLY...but anyway. Today I was out to run a few local errands, ran into him as I neared the end of my block.
"A-HA!!" he said..
at a loss for a comeback, I simply said "a-HA!" back at him.
"Is he there?"
I had no idea what in fuckery he was talking about, so I simply said, "Um, I'm not sure..."...
he looked at me quizzically, and for a moment I thought I was headed for the same fate as the newspaper box..fortunately this was not the case.
"Well, is his car there?"
Again I plead ignorance "I'm really not sure..."
"You didn't look?"
"Um...no?"
"all right, I guess I'll have to go check"
We parted ways, he headed towards, I away from my building. I thought I was free, but no. About 15 minutes later, as I departed the train station having just replenished my CTA card, there he was again.
"He's GONE!" he says, accusingly
"Oh....um" (scared to death once again of having the shit kicked out of me and being yelled at)
"His car's gone, didn't you see that his car was gone?" I'd like to take this time to point out my experience of Dino is exclusively limited to the time he signed for a package for me - I don't really know him, I haven't a CLUE what he drives...anyway...
"Oh I'm sorry, well, I left quickly - I was on a mission!"
"A mission???"
"Um yeah...I had to go to the bank"
"OH! Oh, well okay then..."
and off he went...
I have mentioned on more than one occasion, that the hallway outside my apartment is home to a plethora of different (and never pleasant) smells - hot sick, boiling spam, unidentifiable but decidedly unsettling cooking smells, urinal cakes, New Jersey landfill on a sunny summer afternoon...you get the idea. Now there is a new one. The strange little old man (and to say he is old is a bit of an understatement - I'm fairly certain he could regale you with tales of what the world was like before dirt was invented) in the apartment next door has taken to hanging out in his apartment with the door open. Not quite sure of the motivation behind this - cross ventilation perhaps? Anyway...during the times that he is indulging this peculiar little fetish, I am treated to the newest addition to the olfactive carnival ride that is my hallway - eau de very very VERY old man.
Woo!
*with apologies to receptionista for steaing her entry title...
I am number 2 on a french AOL search for "fucked by a baseball bat"
Ah - those wacky french folks - with their cheese and their Jerry Lewis and their keen interest in alternate uses for sporting equipment...
You're Bettie Page!
What Classic Pin-Up Are You?
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Pinched from Receptionista....
I awoke fairly early today, 9, which for me, without benefit of an alarm is really rather astonishing...got dressed, went down to the loop to get my cheque for the temp work I did last week. Bought new shoes, a hairbrush, 2 tank tops, a hot oil treatment, and a pair of hoop earrings. Now before you go all "getting a little spendy there aren't we Ms. Hilton??" let me point out - I needed the shoes, the strap on my one pair of sensible wear to temp jobs shoes went tits up last week, leaving me with nothing to wear but big stompy boots and tarty high heels, AND I got them on sale super cheap...the hairbrush was also a necessity as I snapped the handle off my other one yesterday, the hot oil treatment, well, obviously if I'm snapping the handles off of hairbrushes, I need some help...now granted, the tank tops and the earrings I really didn't need, but I got them at H&M (Ikea for clothes, to those of you who aren't familiar - I cannot put into words how much I love this store) so they were absurdly cheap, and you can never have enough tank tops and hoop earrings - ask anyone.
Now if I could just find the motivation to go to the grocery store....
In other news:
Farewell Russ Meyer
