In case you were wondering, I survived my venture to Chicago. My second time there and my second time enjoying it. I wouldn't mind living there one bit. There wasn't any groundbreaking events to report, but here's a brief rundown of the happenings:
Arrived Thursday. It was fucking cold. Low double digits, with wind that was making it pretty much miserable. I decided to not be a pussy and get out there anyway.
I headed to the
Shedd Aquarium. I briefly thought art museum, but then realized my attention span is about the same as a housefly, so I figured fish and lizards might be a better bet than art. I had a cool photo of a California moray, but I think I may have sent that from my phone to a stranger in a bar at some point in a Bluetooth experiment. I do have this one of some jellyfish though:
While snapping this photo I heard a little kid ask a question, "Why are they called
jellyfish? You can't eat them, can you?" If only there was an open top. I would have slapped one of those things on toast and handed it over to him for a delicious afternoon snack.
I also got a shot of the dolphin tank that overlooks mighty Lake Michigan (I'm guessing just to tease those bottle-nosed
perverts with a view of freedom):
Thursday night was out to
The Dark Horse for some eats and Steelers watching. The Steelers fans and bar workers (also Steelers fans) were pretty nuts. If someone had knocked me out and I woke up in The Dark Horse I would have no problem believing that I was in Pittsburgh. There was a lot of yelling, chanting, dancing and drinking in the name of the Steelers. Despite my being a Steelers fan, I pretty much spent my time focused on my burger, wings and $3 Guinness pints.
Friday morning I woke up to a pleasant offer from Todd, my host's roommate. Pancakes. There was also bacon. Todd, myself and Todd's lady friend discussed how much bacon should be made, and we opted for the entire one pound package. Although there was some talk of saving the leftovers for BLTs or whatever, we ate the whole pound. The three of us are now forever bonded in salty pork. Bacon bonds can never be broken. That's a fact.
Post breakfast, after some digestion time (which included running) I hit the town. First stop was Mr. Beef. You can tell it is going to be good just by looking at the outside:
Beef, peppers, celery and beef juices ... simple, old school and delicious:
Despite the obvious potential for shitting my pants after all that healthy eatin' I ventured on to my next stop, The John Hancock building
observatory. I did a lot of looking out windows and cursing annoying French tourists under my breath. Here's me keepin' it real 1,000 feet above the Chicago streets:
From there, it was out for some happy hour at various places around Wrigleyville with former co-worker ACG until it was time to meet up with my host and comedy writer, Matt at his latest show at
Second City (there are three more chances to catch it Two Thousand and Sux, so get on it). Post show was a stop at the
Old Town Ale House. $8 pitchers of
Old Style and a jazz only jukebox. 'Nuff said.
Saturday was a bit lazy in the morning, but some brunch from
Kitsch'n got the ball rollin'. There was a little shopping, a little TV watchin' and a jog, but once the sun went down, it was time for a chili cook-off that one of the guys from the Two Thousand and Sux show was hosting. Nine chili entries for the tasting and voting and lots of ridiculous discussions such as: aquarium mammals and their genitals, vegetarian chili being "total bullshit," U.S./Canada relations, wearing beer stained clothing, fag hags, chili voting fraud, Rice Crispy treats - greatest dessert ever? and much more.
After the chili voting was done and awards were handed out (I am protesting the results) and further socializing was accomplished, we were off to continue the night. Stops at the fancy
Hop Leaf, the less fancy
Simon's Tavern for some
Glogg and the not fancy at all,
Carol's Pub. That was more than enough.
Sunday was breakfast and then some football (American and otherwise) watching until it was time to get back to the airport.
A little tired and slightly lacking in health, but overall I think it is mission accomplished.
While snapping this photo I heard a little kid ask a question, "Why are they called jellyfish? You can't eat them, can you?" If only there was an open top. I would have slapped one of those things on toast and handed it over to him for a delicious afternoon snack.
From there, it was out for some happy hour at various places around Wrigleyville with former co-worker ACG until it was time to meet up with my host and comedy writer, Matt at his latest show at Second City (there are three more chances to catch it Two Thousand and Sux, so get on it). Post show was a stop at the Old Town Ale House. $8 pitchers of Old Style and a jazz only jukebox. 'Nuff said.
