I don't watch or follow baseball

BUT: after seeing this picture of a Cubs fan (on left), I may start cutting work and lurking on Addison and Clark in hopes of meeting this woman...and praying to all the living Gods, she drinks enough during and after the game to fall in lust with me!

Sweet Perfection!
*droooooool*

Hanging with Crackhos

It's been a strange and pathetic few weeks.

I've been getting to know the drug-addled street-wise blurry-vision racing-heart underbelly of my neighborhood a little. Four o'clock in the morning conversations are crazy.

The Mark II Lounge, should be renamed The Mac II Living Room.

Isabella at Gallagher's spoke to me last Friday (she speaks English, someone lied to me!). What did she say? Um, the memory is bathed in beer and Jameson, and it's a little vague.

Fucked up at work way too many times. Showed up hours late to both jobs at least twice each. And fucked up big time today at The Bank...apparently I overstepped my boundary of authority; however, I think I cleared it up fifteen minutes later. Hopefully.

I can't go into details, as some are incriminating and (like I said) pathetic, vile, depressing, and just out and out disappointing to myself...yet, an adventure.

I know have more than one Secret, I'll be keeping it to myself.

Hello to Karin, Vernon, Shaolin, and Camilla. See you all on Clark Street after hours, eh?

Good night.