What's with these pseudo homeless 22 year olds in Wicker Park herded against opportune street corners (north/milwaukee/damen) donned in Khaki, clever hats, and $400 worth of tats and piercings? And why are they trying so hard to be so dirty? Is that real dirt? Did the buy it at Urban Outfitters....is it a loose powder or a compact? Here's $2.25, take the purple line up to Wilmette and use your parents shower!

Having spent many years working on Oak Street (specifically for Joan Weinstein) I fully understand that styles are cyclical. But what is with this dumpy, messy resurgence of metallic flats, especially on Lincoln Park College students (especially the 5’4” and shorter ones). Not good. It just exacerbates that already overplayed “OH MY GOD IM TOTALLY LATE FOR CLASS!” look.

Holy shit, it’s 8pm and your at a bar! Put on some f---ing heels, brush that greasy birds nest and try some damn Bare Esceuntuals for a change. Zits and worn out flats from DSW do not make you look “more approachable.”

My roommate brought home a fabulous little Dirt Devil floor vac (back in the day we used to call it an electric broom). I though, "Dirt Devil?! Is it any good?" Well, I

stand corrected....this mo fo can suck something fierce!!!! Mad skills......I could only imagine that section on it's resume...

Detail-oriented, with the ability to complete multiple tasks and projects in a high pressure environment

Demonstrated relationship-building skills with clients, customers and vendors

Ambitious and hardworking with a commitment to excellence

Can suck a lemon through a garden hose

Lord knows I love a good conspiracy theory. I am fascinated by the possibilities of them, and even moreso the fascinating belief systems that they foster in those who

don't claim to belong to them...The webs of congnitive strings and connections, and limbs that we go out on to make them connect... that we have created over the course of

years to describe these conspiracies that we aren't even sure exist. If anything, they exist, perhaps only, in the deeply layered stories and associations that we make in

our desperate attempt to defy our own banal, mortal existence.

They are much like the internet. The actual internet is non existent, intangible, has no real form, no walls, ceilings, reception desk, health plan, employees, board of

directors. No one actually ever meets. No buearacracy, no infrastructure, no administration. It exists in the connections that one computer user makes with others by

degrees of seperation.

Seriously, none of those people actually know Kevin Bacon, and barely know each other....and yet, in that ectoplasm, a deep connection exists forming it's own reality.

All of this is fabulously esoteric, and makes for terrific rhetoric, and discussion....until, of course, on the days I have a work meeting. Suddenely, the thought that

thousands of people, seperated by generations, intricately, and furiously organized to maintain a secret over the course of centuries goes out the window when 10 people

can't decide on what to order for lunch in the course of 20 minutes. Good day.

So I ran this morning to Coldplay. I know it's total emo douche music, but it seemed to work. I just pretended I was Gwyneth Paltrow being chased by a herd of Madonna's indigenous children....."take care of us!!!! Mama is on another world tour in Namibia with Donna, Nikki and Umfoofoo...let's have a play date with apple. We're tired of sewing her H&M dresses 12 hours everyday.......They don't even pick them up anymore!!!!"

8 loads of laundry after our hot water was finally turned back on (Landlord finally coughed up the $2000 he owed from the last two years before we rented) I have underwear and socks again but I am too tired to shower, groom, or even begin to have the wherewithal to contemplate briefs, boxers, or those colored bikinis that come in the tube.

I looked over on the bus today and noticed this woman with the tightest, biggest perm I've ever seen and 8 layers of hardcore Mary Kay pancake that took no less than a pod of grey whales and maybe a humpback to manufacture. But you've gotta give it up to her. I mean, in this weather, even on a mild summer day, if I walk more than half a block at a decent gait....I mean I'm not dripping in sweat, but the foundation is gonna migrate!!!!! And the fact that by 5pm her eyeshadow wasn't covering her areolas is a testament to her mad skills!!! Get your resume together honey, the sci fi channel could use an artist like you!!!

To that little, grey pubic hair from this morning......
You may have won this battle, but I have an arsenal in my anti - aging regimen which consists of vegan supplements, cosmeceuticals, pending deal with satan...

and the piece de resistance........Just for Men #48 semipermanent.

Le Gris est mort!!!! Vive Le Gris!!!!

I ordered an espresso at starbucks today and the barisster...barista (whatever) inquired..."would you like a doppio?"

To which I responded..."Why yes, and thank you for the suggestion, I will have some dopamines with my espresso. As a matter of fact, make it a double tall Doppiopamine with sugar free vanilla (SUGAR FREE!!), and I'll have the frosted Lexapro scone.

Do you still offer Iced Methadone Mochas, or are those just seasonal?

Recently I caught one of those early 2000's "ambush, trading makeovers" shows (I pray it was a rerun), remember, where your neighbors would come over and remodel your kitchen...

for a grand!

I''d be like...."um...uhhh.....yeah, okay you can redo my kitchen but you've got to be fucking kidding me with this $1000!"

I'm looking at, ballpark, 35 - 50 g's and that's just for the appliances and heated floors...my kitchen doesn't live in the bible belt."

Remember when friends/family would come back from vacation and make you sit and look at all of their vacation photos and you'd be thinking..."and I rescheduled a perfectly good elective mouth surgery for this shit!"

Wouldn't it be great if their was a media site where you could see these peoples vacay/life photos as they are happening, a la minute.......with messages like "John just checked into Caribou Coffee on Broadway!" "John just had a bowel movement!" "here's a picture of John and all of his upwardly mobile friends in the bathroom at caribou around the toilet with their thumbs up!" I mean...wouldn't it be great if that existed!

I'm constantly reminded of how different my childhood perspective was.....

All of the boys I knew at the time were into girls and cars and sports.......but not me.

I was into Clothing and tragic people. And I never wanted to play house....

I played Co-op.

I've noticed a quirky new dynamic that occurs on FB. It's like someone comments on my post, and then someone comments on the comment, and suddenely this peanut gallery is having a private, intimate conversation at the expense of my profile page. WTF? Text each other or call him at work, but get the hell out of my crib with your "excuse me brad, but were trying to have a conversation over here, do you mind?"