Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Here comes the Boom

And the home of the brave motherfuckers! Welcome to the most patriotic weekend in America. What gets better that drinking beer, boating and blowing shit up? If your answer was D. None of the above you get partial credit. You could have added, well single dude what about grilling steaks and getting bjs under the cabins of said boats in addition to aforementioned list? I salute you sailor for your innovative critique. So here we have it, the best party weekend of the year, fuck new years, Thanksgiving, St. Patty's day. They are all great excuses to get the BAC into the mid twenties, but you know what they don't share with the 4th of July? You aren't celebrating the birth of the greatest fucking country in the Milky Way. Also, being midsummer, this holiday is the perfect one to celebrate in a nice pair of $75 polo swim trunks. It doesn't hurt that this will most likely be a 4 day weekend for you...4 days to forget the problems of the real world and celebrate the 10 million dollars getting blown up over a lake near you. Road construction, fuck it. Social programs, don't make me laugh. Nothing more republican than a broke city getting private donors that will not stand by without an illuminated sky. I also feel like behind Little 5, nothing invites beer showers more than the 97 degree heat of Independence Day weekend. Honestly, at my barbeque Monday there will be signs that read "on this ride you may get wet, possibly soaked" coincidentally, I'll also be printing off a second copy to hang above my bed.

So what's everyone doing this weekend? Hitting up your wealthy friends with lake houses, accidentally getting too drunk Friday night and sleeping at the dude's apartment with the boat so you get the auto invite on Saturday, perhaps you are just running out to the Ukranian Village Walmart to get a nice Slip n Slide for the front yard before they run out. Whatever the case, I assure you Binny's won't be running out of the Red, White and Blue commemorative Budweiser cans anytime soon. They are ready for victory, as you should be too. As I'm writing this blog, I'm literally standing and cheering as if I was watching Rocky knock out Ivan Drago, or Mel Gibson impale that annoying British fuck with the American flag. This is the holiday that gave us freedom fries, that birthed the American justice system where you can buy your way out of any DUI for a stack of high society.

So whatever you have planned for this weekend, feel free to put your hand over your heart and belt out the words to our Nation's anthem and think about the slave owning cowboys that gave you the right to vote against Prop 8 (or for, equal opportunity jokes on this site) over 200 years ago. And as you are grilling your filet to a warm red center (medium rare) I hope you can appreciate the moment. For this was the dream MLK was talking about, he just didn't know if the 1960's counter culture would respond as positively to "where a white man and black man can go beer jousting together in harmony." Well my friends that's where we are, and I couldn't be happier about it, we live in a nation of freedom. Now go abuse the liberty bestowed upon you and don't forget to throw on some spf.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

A Pride of Lions

It's Tuesday and I have abandoned you for almost a week. Unfortunately, I have to find a real job other than blogging and writing a novel that will most likely not get published, fuck that Elizabeth Gilbert for getting an advance to go travel. I should get an advance to go rage and report on what I remember. Regardless, I have a few thoughts on lake weekends, bachelor parties and gays dressing up all gay and acting gay.

If you haven't been to a lake yet this summer, you need to figure it out. This should really deserve it's own post. There is nothing better than invading a pathetic small town, befriending its liquor store owner and getting your beer from a cooler that shares its home with "live bait." Then there is the process of grilling out and eating on the dock, drinking in a swim suit all weekend and tying up with a bunch of college Sophomores on the sand bar.

When you get to the lake you are so isolated that there is nothing else to do but drink. Drink beer, cocktails, play stupid fucking board games, go swimming but all of this is done while severely intoxicated. It's not like you will be driving anywhere, unless you are boating to a townie bar, and I'm still quite convinced that the BUI is a myth. I used to be a huge fan of the water sports (oh my god I can do a barrel roll on a tube, check me out bro) but I've since learned that it's just a power struggle between your asshole friend driving and the pain tolerance of the person being dragged behind the boat...I think I'm ready to unsubscribe on that, idoling around the lake's local party cove is much more up my alley.

The townie-laker relationship is always an interesting one, similar to the townie-student relationship in any college town. Severe shoulder chips are almost always present, and the wealthy kids between 18-27 using their parent's lake cottages almost always aggravate this to humorous results. I try not to be an asshole because I don't want a meth'd out psycho to beat me to death with a lead pipe, but to each his own.

Anyway, after spending a day in a half at Lake Wawasee, I had to cross Amish country to get back to Chicago for a bachelor party. Never ever go to a lake on a Friday and plan on leaving Saturday, it's nearly impossible to do. But because I'm just an awesome guy, and I said I would be there I risked possible OWI charges from the night before to make the 200 mile cornfield trek west to the Windy City. I didn't drink Saturday on the boat, but I felt semi-confidant at best that I could defeat a breathalyzer, and beware of these small towns...they hate outsiders, they will lock you up and throw away the key. At one point I was lost and drove by a federal prison and I took this as a very grim sign, nevertheless I showed up to my house in Chicago, lobster faced, with about an hour to power down before I had to get ready.

Fuck...I took a 10 mg of adderall to stay awake at the wheel, this will not be a fun nap.

I somehow made it to the bachelor party, but instead of talking all about it, I'm going to point out some rules that I think should be followed.

1.Skip the $200 a plate meal. You'll get that at the wedding, and double whiskeys are like $20 at a steakhouse. You realize that if you skip this meal, everyone can reallocate that cash flow into buying a bottle wherever you go? Bachelor parties are about getting blacked out and committing mortal sins, not about being a fucking foodie.

2. It may sound lame, but you need a tight schedule, planned out to the minute. You can't do dinner and then go out to a bar after...that's what people do on Wednesday nights. Something like meet at State, trolley leaves at 10, trolley arrives at Social 25 at 12, bottles at Social, trolley leaves for Underground at 1, bottles at underground, trolley leaves for admiral at 4...I don't know just a thought.

3. Don't invite the guys that don't like to party. Whatever man, you're the guy in the group that doesn't drink? You make me feel uncomfortable, we'll go catch a matinee some time.

4. The person that plans the party should definitely live in the city that it's going to be, unless it's Vegas or something like that, the guy who has the most experience.

5. Strippers/Hookers should always be involved, always.

Speaking of bachelor parties, New York gave gays the right to marry over the weekend, apparently it was big news. And if I was gay, and I was getting married, I would definitely want my bachelor party the Sunday of the gay pride parade. What a fucking shit show...these guys and girls and people of undecipherable sex get dressed to the 9's in every stereotype possible and get absolutely wrecked.

After hitting up Taste and Castaways yesterday, I tried to venture north for some good old rooftop drinking and pretty much every street north of Fullerton was out of commission. The parade, the floats, the ambulances, the thousands and thousands of gays, lesbians, trannys, and the straights just looking for a party really make this one of the most ridiculous spectacles the city has to offer. I'm pretty sure all public decency laws are suspended on this day because I'm pretty sure I saw a dozen floppy tits during the parade and at least one male on male alley bj.

It's not for everyone, those who are intolerant would probably be horrified, I am a tad more open minded so I just find the entire thing hilarious. The over-the-top flamboyancy of homosexuals shows two things about them that I can respect, they really don't give a fuck what you think....and they can drink a fuck ton of wine coolers because I think about 500 people went to the ER yesterday for alcohol poisoning. With that I give you a tip of my rainbow colored fedora and salute you.

I'm going to go buy a pound of meat now, and change my car's motor oil, I have to get things back to normal around here.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

American Idle

Starbucks internet is unacceptably slow. But perhaps this is my punishment for coming to the location on Wells even though there are probably 3 closer to my home...the things I do to be facey. I mean I'm not even in a comfortable chair right now, I'm sharing a table with a guy who is most likely the lead singer of a Jethro Tull cover band. I had to evacuate my house today because my maid came and it's too awkward for me to stay home and watch, it's like I should be helping. She's not as attractive as Jennifer Lopez was in that one flick, but she makes my room smell nice which is in itself a small miracle. I kind of like this writing at Starbucks thing, it makes look like I'm doing something important...but I can't stop looking out the window at Corcorans and wondering if they have wi-fi.

Last night I was convinced to go check out one of my friends try out for this American Idolesque thing at Duffy's. (Yes, it's actually open nights other than Wednesdays and for Michigan games) I thought whatever, he's quasi-talented and it's an excuse to drink, fuck it why not. Clearly I was not prepared for what Duffy's had in store for me. Imagine that you are watching all the idiots that audition for American Idol, except it's live and you can have all the beer you want for free. Wait scratch that, for 10 bucks you can upgrade that to anything in the bar for all night...yellow upgrade wristband please. Not only that, but I had the most aggressive server ever. Without fail she would bring me a new 312 when I was 75% done with the previous, it was like she thought my BAC would factor in on her tip...I'm sure it did.

All of these "auditions" are sans instrument, back up band, this is straight acapella which makes it even more awkward. Everyone came out of the woodwork on this one though, it's like every bum sitting on the couch who knew the words to at least one song came out to Duffy's to chase their dream. There were the classic fat girls singing Whitney Houston, homeless guys wheeling in their shopping cart and trying to belt out Luther Vandross thinking that this 15k grand prize will turn their life around, drunk frat guys singing 90's one hit wonders and a Chinaman that forgot the words to "Don't Stop Believing." Really bro? You are going to sing the most stereotypical song of all time and fuck it up? For shame! He's lucky he went early or I would have booed, loudly. Or if he would have gone really late in the night I would have probably grabbed the mic from him and done a diving knee slide on stage as I hit the final note.

Pretty cool event, I wish I wouldn't have been the only one trying to sing along, and I think heckling should be encouraged. Applauding for someone who sucks is like giving a little leaguer a participation gives false hope and probably leads to suicides. The audience applause factors in after week 3, so I will solicit my belligerent behavior to whoever pays for my yellow wristband. It's a fun event if you are sick of the line at Joe's on Tuesday or you are afraid of Mexicans. Check it out.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Crosstown Classic

Before I get into the juice of this post I want to share a quick anecdote with you. Last night after rollerblading to McDonalds to get a DQP w/ C meal, I sat down to enjoy some quality Monday evening programming. Unfortunately, my choices were limited to the season premier of "Intervention" and MTV's Teen Wolf...and since I feel I walk a very thin line of going on the aforementioned show (I often ask people if they want to get A&E Intervention drunk with me on Saturdays) I try to avoid it at all costs. Teen Wolf it is. Wow what a train wreck of teenage soap. It is the most angsty, CWesque show out there. It makes Pretty Little Liars and Secret Life of the American Teen look like Revolutionary Road. To encapsulate, MTV has taken the classic Michael J Fox comedy of the 80's and made it "grittier" with more attractive people. The best part is the main character is a generation Y frat bro chill right? Anyway, the kid is a pussy but when he gets mad he werewolf transforms only like halfway and becomes a beast on the field. I shit you not he shot a ball so fast that it burned a hole through the goalies net. Also his girlfriend's dad is in the league of werewolf hunters, which is kind of like in Jumper where Diane Lane is Annakin Skywalker's mom but she still tries to kill him.

That intro was far too long, I apologize.

But perhaps now you know why I am going stir crazy. Today, is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, it's all downhill from here. However, that's a tough argument when it's 90 degrees out and the predicted storms all week have failed to show and it's crosstown classic week. Now I get it, you aren't that excited about it because both the Cubs and Sox kinda suck, the series is on the southside right now which is about as pleasant to visit as Baltimore in the winter. You're thinking, didn't the crosstown classic coincide with the Hawks victory parade last year? Where is the cup going tonight? Can't wait to go post up at the Pony or Stanley's and try to high five Sharp!
Fuck your attitude then...last summer was super legit, but you are missing the point. Winter was a hard frozen cock in the ass, and it's over now (insert gay pride parade coming this weekend joke here) we should just be pumped about the weather, summer hours Fridays, random boat cruise Wednesdays, outdoor concerts at Northerly Island and the impending debacle that will be the 4th of July. I'm not too sure who is paying for Chicago fireworks this year, but if you don't think I'm driving to Gary to get some moderate to high end explosives and throwing a raging bash in the lawn, then you're seriously mistaken.
Last weekend I hit up Wrigley for some good old fashioned day drinking. I have no desire to go into the game but I was intrigued by the Lady Gaga cover band playing the new "Wrigleyville Blockparty." Seriously, whoever came up with this idea is a genius.

"The Cubs suck, people won't even show when we play the Yankees."
"Hm...let's fence off an area next to the park and pay a local garage band $50 to play top 40 hits...and then we'll charge everyone $8 a beer"

Yes, those cubs fans are so predictable, if they have a dogshit baseball team, get them drunk and they will be pleased. But the point is, without the Bulls making their dream run, the Hawks falling short and the NFL in a lockout the only two things I have going for me this summer in the sporting world are Major League Baseball and Andy Roddick, and I just know Roddick will fuck up before the Wimbledon quarters, just watch. That said, I want to hit up a roof top, I want to get sun/alcohol poisoning in the bleachers with the common man. The lake weekends, the float trips, the party bus to Dave Matthews...these things are great, but it's the little things that are going to make this summer so memorable.

Would you believe that I have actually inquired as to the Craigslist price of a ticket to US Cellular tonight? No, I've never actually paid to see a game there, but I took a general temperature. I much prefer logging a good 4 hours at a Wrigleyville bar before aggressively low balling scalpers (true fact about me, I can absolutely not negotiate with a ticket broker unless I am balls to the wall hammered. Fortunately, I rarely attempt to attend any social event of any kind in a state of sobriety) but nonetheless I would probably fork over a Jackson tonight to see Cubs/Sox on the southside on the condition that there are fireworks afterward regardless of the outcome.

Enough of my word vomit for now, I need to go crack a beer and play a stimulating game of horseshoes against myself in the front yard.

Monday, June 20, 2011

You're "Killing" me

And now a break from my usual social satire to rant about last night's season finale of the Killing which was one of my favorite shows this entire spring.
I sat around every Sunday night watching the slow procedural unfold in dramatic fashion. Who killed Rosie Larsen? I had to know. I agonized over message boards during the week reading everyone's conspiracy theory, I even contributed a few of my own. I had lengthy phone calls with my friends trying to decipher the red herrings and who could possibly be involved. I even spent time researching the original Danish series which it was based upon to uncover new clues. I was seriously into it. Then what did I get last night?
Fucking nothing.
The dude that attempted an affair with Kirsten Cohen and beat Jennifer Lopez seemed to be the runaway favorite late in the series. But all week AMC advertised the "last 5 minutes that would have you talking all summer" so I figured there would be a last minute twist that would completely destroy the first 12 hours and 55 minutes of the series, but I thought at least I would be redeemed in the fact that I would know who the killer was before I went to sleep last night.
False, all I know now is that the creepy undercover cop is somehow involved, the city Councilman who appeared to be guilty may or may not have been killed, and I'm going to have to wait another 9 months to see who killed this crazy latina hooker. More Seattle rain, more twists and turns and new characters that look guilty but were just bad people tied up in some sort of conspiracy. I think they are all guilty, maybe every character in the show is somehow involved.
I was so pissed off last night that I stayed up all night watching Canadian soap operas on Teen Nick. I have been betrayed by AMC, and every other TV blogger agrees with me. I was going to watch Breaking Bad this season, but I may be done with AMC forever. I was even going to apply for some sort of job there, but after this debacle I don't think I can ever turn into channel 171 again.
I apologize to the 98% of my readers that didn't follow the show, but I just really needed to get this off my chest. At least Game of Thrones finale had a guy get his tongue ripped out and a naked blonde giving birth to dragons...that's how it's done AMC. At least I know this upcoming season of True Blood will have vampire sex and violence, whereas you guys can't even hire writers to get Mad Men back on the air. If anyone needs me I'll be completely rewatching the entire series of The Wire so I can be reminded what good tv is.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Ragers in the park

One of the two most frustrating things in the world is the inability to bring a cooler full of booze to North Avenue beach. I mean you can, but you can also smoke crystal meth on the back cabin of a blue line train to forest park but you may get arrested (or in the latter situation, have to share.) In all actuality most cops will make you pour out your booze, and laugh at you while you do it. Some will leave you alone if you make the slightest effort to cover up (solo cups, vodka in water bottles) your shenanigans. However, I just think that there is a big missed opportunity here. I would pay an extra ten bucks to go to a 21+ section of the beach, where boozing, accidental nudity and dancing were all encouraged. Oh what, there is? It's called Castaways? 8 dollars a beer no thanks bro. On an unrelated note, the 2nd most frustrating thing in the world is the Keurig's inability to make a full cup of coffee.

So what are we to do since the beach has gone all Narc on the twentysomethings, are we doomed to not be able to drink outside unless we are in my fron yard or the Zella patio? Not at all the case my friends, as a strong proponent of drinking conspicuously in places that it would be otherwise inappropriate, I have compiled a brief list of your opportunities to stick it to the man.

Movies in the Park- Movies in the Park may sound like a lame date night idea to the rookies out there. I'm sure that's what Park District admin had in mind when they signed off on allowing alcohol there. "Oh what a perfect date night idea, a bottle of blush between two young lovers and a loaf of bread with cheese spread in a picnic basket." Ya, that's not quite how it always goes down. I went to a few of these last year and was awe struck with the professionalism of some of the of the tailgate set-ups. We are talking fully stocked wet bars, with mini kegs, grills, even tents. Now that was in Lincoln Park, I'm sure on the south side it's more like full rotisserie chickens from Dominicks complimented by 5 dollar hot and ready pizzas and 40s, but whatever. They play some pretty whack flicks, but it's not about the movie, it's about putting down a liter of vodka and then turning your bug spray and a lighter into a flamethrower with mixed results.

New Music Monday's at Millenium Park- Not a movie fan? Fine, how about getting shalacked in the middle of the Jay Pritzker Pavillion, surrounded by the city, on your own booze? Fuck and yes. That's what I said too. Every Monday at 6 there is a BYOB concert in Millenium Park. Now I know what you're thinking, really new music Monday, is it going to be a bunch of weird indie shit? Yes. But who cares, drinking is always amplified when it is outside, in public and near live music, that's like a 3x multiplier right there...and if you come up with some bullshit line about how you've been tracking their career since they were playing independent coffee houses in SoHo, some Wicker Park chick may invite you on a late night bike ride or something.

Street festivals, everywhere- So these are the best because there is a new one every weekend in a different section of the city. Definitely a very cool way to see more of Chicago if you are into that sort of thing. I've never gone to a street fest and had a bad time. You are guaranteed a ton of people, lots of alcohol and some solid tunes. If you are trying to do this on the cheap, may I remind you that the donation is "suggested" for those of you who have no soul. That said, there is nothing to stop you from bringing your own booze in a backpack. It's just another way of beating the system my friend. Street fests are a great way to encourage day drinking and Sunday drinking, which are both staples of the summer.

So yes, it seems Chicago can't quite make up it's mind about drinking in public, but there are plenty of ways to shut down that open container law yourself. Remember this is a legit city with murders and stuff so if you are cruising around the zoo with some dark shades on drinking a questionably colored drink, you are probably in the clear as long as you are dressed well and under the age of 30. In closing, I'll remind everyone that the 7/11 across from Wrigley Field sells fifths of hard liquor and they don't do pat downs at Cubs Games.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Call me Daniel Day Lewis because there will be blood. What makes this Sunday more special than any other Sunday? Is it because of the potential Blues Fest/Old Town Art Fair combo? Is it because last night was my roommates birthday and I didn't sleep well because my suburban friend felt the need to sleep in my bed thus limiting my possible sleeping space to a half twin? Is it because I am ragingly hungover/still intoxed?
Who fucking cares? Do you have work today? Unless you are in the service industry or clean pools, no. I don't care if it is unseasonably cold for June 12. Are you still pouting about the mist yesterday? Could you not enjoy your 90's cover bands on Wells street with a brisk wind and some clouds? Quit you bitching, the weekend is young.
Sunday funday is one of the lamest phrases out there. It's the equivalent of a gdi going out for new years. When I see tweets that say #sundayfunday I look for the nearest box cutter to go up the highway not across the tracks. Let's get one thing clear, Sunday is part 2 of the weekend and it cannot be overlooked.
If you are in the betting game you have heard stories of someone losing it all in a fluke week of early season NFL. When these serial gamblers are in a major hole going into Monday morning, do you know what they do? They put it all on the line. Make wagers they can't cover, roll the fucking dice. Have a mortgage? Fuck it. Student loans? Call me collectors, I'll press ignore all fucking day, are you going to repo my degree? These ballsy individuals put it all on the line, one bet, one game, Monday Night Football.
MNF is the Sunday of sports betting. Did you have a shitty weekend? Eat some bad sushi and have to head home early before you could dance fuck that little blonde on the stage? Did you fail to sport some wood because you had one too many Jamo shots?
Whatever. That shit is in the past. Get over it homey. Today can be your game 7 LeBron, don't shrink.
First, let's establish a few facts: 1. You have to work tomorrow. 2. Even if you are unemployed, normal people (this excludes teen moms and tatted up felons) have to work tomorrow. Oh ya, I thought the college kids would take over the beach in June too...I was wrong. 3. The best party is a day party, this is undisputed.
That said, are you ready to chalk this weekend up as a loss? Just another 1.89% of your freedom robbed because of your inability to be awesome?
I have an alternative plan. Treat this day like it is the greatest day of the week. Don't lay in bed complaining about your hangover and passively watch a NASCAR race on Fox. Get up, get out and get in where you fit in. The beauty of day drinking is that it ends at a reasonable hour. Go rip it from noon until 8pm and crash. This gives you a kick ass day and 11 hours of sleep. Also if you happen to find an acorn you blind squirrel, you can have a guilt free escape strategy in the AM.
"Oh good morning girl I just railed, I have to go to work now because I am a functioning member of society. We are going to part ways now, but it's not because I'm an asshole, it's just because normal people leave their house at 7am on Monday mornings. I have a real job and I probably won't text you this week because I'll be getting home late and watching sports and episodes of the Wire with my roommates. Once again, not an asshole, this is just reality. If I see you out again we should make a sequel to this story...hopefully on a Sunday so I don't have to get you NYC bagel in the morning."
See how reasonable that scenario was? That could be you in 18 hours.
What do I suggest? If you are minutes away from checking yourself into the ER from dehydration, alcohol poisoning, etc. Just go to an all you can drink mimosa brunch. Then get creative. THis city is fucking dope. There is so much cool shit to do and there will be a street festival every weekend from now until October. Go there, get cultured. Play some fucking putt putt on Navy Pier, check out some fossils at a museum. Did you know that Second City is free Sundays at 9? Or that Stanley's on a Sunday is arguably the best party in the midwest? I bet you didn't. You are probably thinking about how much easier it would be to smoke a bowl and watch re-runs of Planet Earth.
Turn your 2 strikes on Friday and Saturday night into an 0-2 homerun to deep left center. Because honestly, the bartender you bring home from Underground Industry night will teach you shit in the sack that you believed to only be rumor made Sunday count.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Snap back to reality

I'm back.
Why the leave of absence? Why come back? Am I pompous enough to think that you all missed me?
Nope. I just missed this creative outlet to the world via social satire and a fictional parody of the world as I perceive it. I promise, I'll never leave you guys again. I hope you were able to be productive at work the past couple weeks, because it's going to be a sloppy summer.
The Single Dude in Chicago