"I Voted" Stickers are the New Joe Camel
Voting is easy. If you can do it, that is. Holding the swine you elected accountable once they get off the campaign train and settle into their new digs is where the real work begins. A true patriot’s day off is Election day. Every day in between election days are working days.
“I Voted” stickers are the new Joe Camel swag. Everyone wants Joe camel’s stuff but few comprehend what sporting a Joe Camel windbreaker really means.
National Novel Writing Month is for the Faint of Heart
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 28, 2018
Lyft/cab drivers who fart with passengers in the car can be perceived as rude. Lyft/cab drivers who crank the heat and crack a window when they fart is nothing short of awesome.
The Women of the Democratic Party Have One Year Left to Keep Screwing Things Up
Let’s be real clear up front: The Patriarchy must burn and die. But if the future is female, then the future needs a Come to Jesus Moment like no other. Even if the Dems pull off a win in 2020, if the Party’s most prominent don’t stop acting without thinking of the consequences, the future may indeed be female, but it will be a future led by women who are just as self-serving and stupid as any man has ever been.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Halloween Edition
If I were to go trick-or-treating, I’d rather receive a red delicious apple with razor blades and anthrax in it than Bit-O-Honey.
Top 5 Scariest Films for Halloween
I’ve never been a fan of haunted houses. I spook too easily, I guess. I’m not the guy they want walking through their halls anyhow. In past houses I’ve committed all offenses in reaction to being spooked: punched a worker square in the nose; stomped to death some kind of mechanical tentacle protruding from the floorboards; grabbed a psychotic clown by his wig and headbutted him in the teeth; made my wife go first.
Around this time of year, I’m a bigger fan of staying in where the people around me are safe. But I still enjoy giving myself the heebie-jeebies. That’s why I’m offering you, dear reader, my pick of the Top 5 Scariest Films you should watch this Halloween.
Shutter
Gravity
The Force Awakens
Superman III
Mannequin
For the Love of Little Broken Things: A Chicago Hairstylist Emerges Stronger After Fire
We’re all rebuilding. We all want to be beautiful. We’re all seeking gratification. Krepel went through the fire and emerged to give us a place that is as much ours as it is hers. A place where we can feel beautiful, where we can feel gratified, because when we feel good, we don’t want to burn the whole fucking thing down. She’s given Chicago a place that proves the most beautiful things often come from the things that were the most broken.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 14, 2018
Go ahead and call her horseface, buddy. You fucked her.
Brian Babylon — "Babylon Ball Z" Comedy Album Review
Brian Babylon, who calls himself the Prince of Bronzeville when shadowboxing in his bathroom mirror each morning, has released his first comedy album, Babylon Ball Z. It will probably make you laugh.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 7, 2018
The only thing stranger than Kanye West’s meeting with President Trump in the Oval Office is that one time Sammy Davis Jr. blew President Nixon in the Lincoln Bedroom.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of September 30, 2018
The problem with instant gratification is that it makes satisfaction hard to come by.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 23, 2018
Think of how much more interesting The Diary of a Young Girl would have been if young Anne Frank had a little Amsterdam hash with her in that attic.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 16, 2018
I’m canceling my subscription to Esquire after more than a decade of being a loyal subscriber and reader. Since Jay Fielden became editor-in-chief, it’s become an apologetic magazine for angry feminists and their terrified husbands. Granted, the reporting and fiction is still of value but it’s become too hard for me to get past the loaded front half of the rag — even flipping through it — without getting annoyed or feeling talked down to. I’ll miss you, Esquire, but I’ve missed you for a few years now.
Love Curse — Part II
This graveyard had a reputation for being haunted. But what graveyard wasn’t? By the time they got there, she thought, this van would be haunted with the ghosts of what she’d rather have been doing. Playing old SEGA Genesis video games; binge watching Arrested Development; sleeping on the couch with a partially chewed bite of Tony’s frozen cheese pizza in her mouth. She caved to hanging out only after her boyfriend, Len, promised they’d spend all next weekend at home on the couch.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 9, 2018
The people who post how excited they are about the Christmas Season/Holiday Season in September are the worst kind of people. Slow your roll. Appreciate what’s in front of you. Be present. It’s OK to be excited and have things to look forward to but dial back your enthusiasm. No one likes an adult who gets giddy over something three months away like a puppy gets giddy over rolling around in its own shit.
Identifying the Corpse on the Blue Line’s Third Rail
I turned around. There were wakes of glistening human coolant running down this woman’s forehead. They were almost as long as her airbrushed and bedazzled fingernails. It was too hot for a weave that thick. She kept tapping at it, itchy from all that sweat spewing out from the top of her head. The nails, the hair — how does she function in this kind of heat? There’s no way she worked a desk job, or any job that requires her to type on a keyboard of any kind.
You do?
“I see this shit all the time working for the CTA,” the sweaty woman said. “He’s just some gutter punk.”
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of September 2, 2018
The greatest threat to the LGBTQ community is not Donald Trump or the Republicans or the Alt Right. It’s gender reveal parties.
The Graceful Failure of Mayor Rahm Emanuel
But what’s he really going to do? I imagine that he’ll spend the next three to eight months furiously beating his knob to a pulp jerking it to footage from the 1968 Democratic National Convention riots in Grant Park. You know, back when Chicago was a city he could get behind. One where the police policed. Maybe he’ll spend his days eating Arby’s sandwiches hoping to find a finger in his food. His finger.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of August 26, 2018
John McCain was a genius. And he was loyal to his party. So much so that he died the same day as the Jacksonville shooting so we’d talk about his death instead of gun control. Genius.
Gary Thompson, The Great American Drifter
I felt a kinship to this guy. I, too, had always felt that without the trappings of relationships — the weight of accountability to someone else — I could do much more. Yet, there I was, afraid to be by myself for two weeks on a chicken run to the fray of a new life unknown. Riding shotgun was a guy who also preferred solitude but would still be stuck on a Great Falls road if it weren’t for other people offering up a little bit of their company.
How do you want to be defined? By one action? By some opinion that could evolve? By a mistake, regrettable only with hindsight? Or by the sum of your parts? Okay, do that for other people. Start the trend.