because i am so cool, i just spent the last couple of hours finishing my fantasy football draft. it was actually kind of fun, doing it from afar, chatting online with a silvery friend and some other... characters... and now it's high time i get my suction cupped ass up off the plastic and out into the streets.
last night i was in a bar singing old country and pop songs. a la patsy cline and such. the bartender starts singing. and you feel wierd if she's singing my way to you and you don't reply in kind. so i sang my hoarse voice out.
we (nate + marta + mark + jess feiser) roamed to some cockamamie bar which looked like a rejected set from sanford & son. there was a lot of orange and a lot of paint streaks everywhere like a child imitating jackson pollock . it was called Life's Too Short and they were playing heavy metal. no poison. but multiple skid row songs. kick ass. we were feeling our oats so we had four pitchers amd i tried to jump to the top of a roof. my crazy hops having failed me, we yelled at passing barges on the chicago river, just beyond the back fence of the outdoor area where we drank. the men on the barges could make us out in the dark night, against the streetlights and the glow of the mostly-empty bar, and they waved. or yelled show us your tits. i'm not so sure.
feeling inspired, mark and nathan and myself went down some steps to a floating deck/ dock, where mark had fallen into the polluted chicago river a couple of years back (nathan got pink eye from that experience). we were talking about mooning the next passing barge. ah, for the good times.
nathan got sick to the point of... "role reversal." meanwhile, i dreamt that terrorists imploded the empire state building but nyc'ers were so half in shock and so jaded that they were half laughing, in a frightened way, about the whole ordeal.
have i mentioned that i slowed down my drinking because it adversely affects my emotional state? probably not, i can't say that five times fast.