Once more the funk, the funk it calls to me.

Not phunk. Not p-funk. Not something that is happy or upbeat or even remotely fun. Its the inevitable decline of mood and health. A decline of happiness and joy. But I welcome it. I welcome it because I have ridden this before and will ride again. And in the end I always come out a better, smarter, more chill person.

However, I don't like talking to people during this time. Mea Culpa for the lack of posting. I feel like crap. You see, I have pink eye. Am, apparently, terminally single and have been having terrible, vivid dreams these days.

There are two things that no-one actually ever wants to hear about:
-your medical condition(s)
-your dreams.

Guess what? That interest? Its not real. Your dreams and your health are not particulalry interesting. Are you about to die? No? Good. Go to the doctor. He gets paid a stupid hourly rate to hear you whine about the slight twinge in your shoulder. Are your dreams accurately predicting catastrophic events and do you have independently timestamped charts proving this? No? Go to a psychologist. He gets paid a stupidly hourly rate to hear you bitch about how your dreams mean your dad hugged you exactly 1.2 times a week to0 infrequently as a child and now you'll never be truly happy.

Shut up.

See? That's all that I have going on in my mind. Whining about how I feel like crap and nutty, nutty dreams. Pauses in conversations do not need to be filled. Threads are lost, found, burned and tied in nots because dude, SHUT UP about your pink eye. If you can't make it funny and quick, just grunt at me and enjoy the silence. Its rad.

And, dear shit, if I bitch about how, "I'm lonely and no girl ever wants to talk to me" you are all, in fact, authorized, nay, encouraged to cause me great physical distress. Which I will try my damnest to not talk about. See above. Eye, Pink.

In other news:
-Been reading "Ball Four" by Jim Bouton. Its a baseball book. Its really fucking good. I am, in fact, down with that shit.
-Beat Minish Cap. That game is so fucking rad. It will be played again.
-Bought a bunch of games:
+Castlevania: Castle of the Moon. So far, incredibly difficult and confusing. This game doesn't have a hand-holding first level where it tells you how to do stuff like jump and use your whip and I bought it used so I didn't get a book. I am undecided if I like it or not.
+Sword of Mana: 30 minutes in and enjoying it tremendously. It seems like a pretty classic rpg but at only 30 minutes in, I can't speak with any authority.
+Final Fantasy 1&2: I imagine these will be great games but I have not played them yet so I have no idea.

The Greatest Show Ever:
The Soundtrack of Our Lives played the Metro on Monday. I felt like crap. Eye-Pink. I was having trouble putting down beer. The Dears played before them. Okay. I leave that part to Koby. Oh, I went with Koby. We ran into some of Fishman's Girlfriend's friends from college. Totally random. Yes, her glasses are still bent from when I elbowed her 3 YEARS AGO.

By the middle of the first song by Soundtrack I was downing beer, jumping around and having the time of my life. At one point Koby said, "They're not half bad." I pulled the classic dramatic, "What?" And then froze him out for awhile. He got a little uncomfortable. But the music, oh the music. It made me feel better. I felt like I was healthy when they were playing. I mean, who cares if my ears rang until noon the next day? Its not like I need to be awake to do my job. Or, you know, paying attention while I am here.

Anyway, sorry I was gone, and I hope this uber-post makes up for it. Later hosers.
- posted by Pat @ 6:17 PM

 
This was an odd night.

It was a night that I always dream about. Going out, drinking with friends. Tons of random conversation that goes nowhere in particular but goes for our entertainment. This was the epitome of an enjoyable night for itself. No stories come from a night like this. No great adventures happen on a night like this. I probably needed this after last Friday's HISTORIC night of fun and awesomness. But, it doesn't lead itself to a good story.

So to that one awesome person (Brian "Hex") who was expecting a great story, sorry. I failed. I had normal fun.

Yes, I am somewhat confused at the end of this. It was rad, but I didn't end up with a terrible mark against my name. So very odd.

Two apologies: Paul and Koby. I said I would call both of you when I knew what was going on. Sorry, I was having dinner with a dude who is trying to get me a job. I got home from that at 9.30pm. At that point, it was too late for either free booze at North Beach, or an awesome show at the Empty Bottle. I should have called you both earlier but I was busy making sure this dude knew I was awesome.

And yes Paul, we did talk. No, I had no idea what you said. I think it was a final effort to get me up there because the concert started late, but I am not sure. It was amazingly staticy.

I was even at the Brew tonight. The epitome of all that is not fun. I enjoyed myself. Instead of the usual terrible hip-hop and booty-shaking songs, it was random great quasi-singalong bands. O.A.R., Oasis, Phish, and others. Not the usual fare. I was shocked. I was at the Brew and I wasn't hating everything in existence.

No, I don't get it.

Maybe this is a sign of good things to come. However, the odds favor this:

Pat (Major) will end up crying himself to sleep while out of his gord on whiskey.

Seriously, if you can find a bookie to take bets on this, and I am not, you are betting against me being happy. This is the smart bet. I mean, GARBAGE, I still live WITH MY PARENTS.

Always take the under on me. Its the bet that wins.
- posted by Pat @ 10:02 PM

 
Ugh, travesty.

After the great 'Koby Bash - 2005' I wasn't right. Fuck, I'm still not right. Think, well, fuck. Nope, no good way to phrase it. I, once again, have "colon issues". Mainly, lack of control when farting. Which is basically the most heinous thing ever. Beer, I love you, why must you be so mean to me? Why?

Sunday was good. It was chill. Tons of bags. Haji had real fun, I was just a terrible human being. The fun I had was mitigated because even THINKING about it makes me want to puke. Fucking ugh.

And yesterday was St. Patrick's day. We didn't even have a blog-wide high-five. Seriously Koby, do you realize how intense that night was? It ruined me for days. DAYS!

Its a new weekend. There is stuff going on. I may go to a play with Koby so he can hang out with brithday ass a girl he met last Friday. I haven't actually talked to him about this yet, but I also don't know what pillow talk occured. Who knows what promises were made. And what promises may be broken.

Odds: 2-1 that Koby will break this girl's heart (if he hasn't already) Any takers?
- posted by Pat @ 3:43 PM

 
A surprisingly low profile night, for a birthday.

Oddly enough, we didn't break any laws at all. I have NO idea how that (didn't) happen. And am I ever glad no one did any betting. No injuries, no cars vandalized. Birthday boy took care of the other one.

It started in a bar up north. We drank PBR. We are, by and large, kinda scummy dudes. This beer works out well. We did a shot of whiskey. Patrick, foolishly, declined. The whiskey was yum-my. We all walked out of the bar with between 6-8 drinks in our bellies. It was 11 pm.

We, briefly, entered a bar. It was lame. It was also gay. We didn't know the second until later when we went back to that bar and hung out for awhile. I repeatedly told a 53 year old woman to "tell me her real age and stop telling lies." I still don't believe that she was 53. She looked like 35, max. A 39 year old dude kept trying to feel all old and kept telling us he was old enough to be our daddy. I pointed out he would have been 15 at the time of our birth. He responded, "I'm a peurto rican from the south side, I'M YOU'RE DADDY!"

He was a very funny man. The bar before that one was lame. We had one overpriced beer. And I had fries. I was 'fry-guy' for about 10 minutes. Man, that gay bar was so much fun it made them forget how they were taunting me.

Then we began the attempt to find Neo. This was a difficult process. No one really knew where it was.

But on the way we stopped off at the Union. This may or may not have been my idea. I am a proponent of the drink on the way club, but there were others who are also fans of this club. So we stopped off. My animal magnitism, combined with that of some dude named Dan whose birthday it wasn't, got a girl over. She gave us a flyer for a play. We hit on her. She was receptive. At the time, I thought it was just because she wanted us to go the play. I was wrong. But, it wasn't until later that I found this out.

We hung with her and her other theater friends for a bit. Then, we continued our ill-fated trip to Neo. Dan (birthday boy) wasn't feeling good so he stopped off in a gangway to, well, see what his stomach had to say. I thought he was watering the grass, so I decided to help with the watering process. Luckily, my belt is tricky to get open, so it took me a bit. As I got my belt off, I saw a flashlight. Oh yes, hello officer. No, my male bits aren't hanging out and no, I'm not walking away in a nonchalant fashion.

Yes, I went back to see if Dan needed bail. Turns out, he just felt a little vomitous. The threat of the law settled his stomach. The cop repeatedly asked him if he had "something he should know about" in his pockets. Then Dan got patted down. He left after the cop 'copped' a feel and away we went.

Dan, Doug and I were alone at this point with no idea where to go. Doug insisted on walking, so Dan and I hopped in a cab and let him walk. We got there. Called Haji and found out he was in the back of some total unknown dudes van. Seriously, total. Random. Dude.

Yeah, sketchy.

Dan and I head in. Sam shows up a bit later, tells us he found Doug and that, again, Doug blew off a cab ride to keep walking. Doug likes his druken walks. He also hates the Neo. I don't blame him. The club was full of white people who can't dance. It was a travesty against dance. My soul cried.

But at Neo, the theater people showed up. Yes, they followed us to a club. Yes, this bodes well for the birthday boy. We chatted. We flirted. One girl set her sites on Koby after I introduced him as the "birthday boy". After that, I thought I was flirting with another theater girl. Turns out, I was being wingwomened. Yes. I was pulled off by a girl. This is a valid wingman technique. And it was executed to perfection. I didn't know I was had until after Dan hopped into a cab and this girl suddenly had no interest in me whatsoever.

She executed perfectly.

So did Sam. Who picked up a girl. Doug was staying at Sam's place that night. He nonchalantly dropped his keys off into Doug's pocket and walked away. No goodbye, no later, just here are the keys and don't say anything.

Doug and I got some mexican after that. Then we both grabed lonely taxis home. Doug to Sam's, and me to Haji's. Of course, both the doorman of Haji's building and I had to call him multiple times to get him to wake up and let me in, but hey. It worked out. I feel asleep in his closet when I got in there. I like to wander around drunk when asleep.

I'm a sleep-walker. Ask my old roommates. No, really, I walked in my one roommate and his current fiance. I'm going to the wedding in August. I hope I get to tell that story. That would be rad.

For me, Saturday was a drunken, hungover wash. I watched a bunch of college basketball, a bunch of law and order (thanks Julie), and then Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels with my sister. It was a good recovery day.

Friday exceeded everyone's expectactions but I filled my requirements. I spent all of my money (twice) and I got the birthday boy a girl. What more can you hope for when celebrating a friend's birthday?
- posted by Pat @ 10:39 AM

 
Can you feel that? Its freaking palatable at this point. Its had its diversions and some other "issues", but its like an avalanche now. Not even a FOREST of redwoods is stopping this roll.

What roll you ask? A roll so potent and, hopefully, EPIC, that the man in question, the catalyst if you will, declared a one shot maximum for the night LAST WEEK.

The event: Koby's birthday celebration. Oh c'mon. You know him. Used to post here? Started up a sports blog that he has updated, uh, 5 times total? Yeah, him.

Now, what would cause the sort of impending doom of critical mass nature that we all are FEARING right now? Dan's not driving home. He will be too intoxicated to operate his lighter by the end of the night. And this is a man who can drink an ENTIRE CASE ALONE. And not reverse drink any of it. Then toss in the rest of the blog here as attendees, and you have a recipe for disaster.

Of course, don't forget that this is the official celebration of St. Patrick's day here in Chicago. Which means OH SO MANY DRUNKS EVERYWHERE. There is going to be a riot of green, beer and looting fun.

I predict: two cars (minimum) will be vandalized
I predict: one moderate to severe injury
I predict: one bathroom will be peed all over (more if a certain CL joins us)

I am taking bets on these. Please get in touch for odds.
- posted by Pat @ 2:42 PM

 
What I miss most about college...

I miss the random nights. I miss the leaving your house at 9 pm, knowing you have no less then three places you have to drink at that night. I miss almost always going to live shows of bands I have never heard. I miss seeing experimental films made by people I sorta know. I miss the chaos. The pure unknowing of what is going to happen on any given night.

Its all so planned now. I go out, get trashed or half trashed and go home. One bar. not even parties anymore, just bars. Which, not terrible, but its always the same bars. And that would rock if we knew random people at those bars. But we don't. At least, I don't.

I miss the fact that a night like last night, is something that gets planned 4 days ahead of time. That I can't just have it happen, or make it happen. And it makes me sad. I wonder, do other cities have more Chaos? Maybe I should move to Tokyo. Things seem crazy there.

Friday, the day that was:
(4.30)Left work by giving that hole the finger and leaving. Yes, I did get to work late.
(7.45)Left to go to a bar for free beer
(8.00)Realized I left the address for said free beer at home.
(8.45)Got to free beer bar
(8.55)Realize there are 5 minutes of free beer left, and decide to stop finding parking
(8.56)Paul orders another beer in the bar
(8.56:30)I call Paul to meet me out front of the bar.
(9.05)Paul comes out after 4 laps of block
(9.15)Get to Mike Kelly's place for a beer and a look at "Blowback". A series being put together by Team Filo. www.teamfilo.com That's not a hyper link because the site doesn't exist yet. I will keep you posted.
(10.15)Get to Empty bottle
(10.17)Am officially floored by these dudes
(11.00)Menomena* starts.
(11.01)Am floored.
(12.00)These guys get going.
(12.15)Decide they are good, will get album. (album is good.)

After the show, Paul and I chatted with one of the two keyboardists from Canasta. It was rad.

And then I went home. Got into bed around 2.30am. It was, of course, great times.

And now, winding up for tonight. Its a bar! With people! I love exclamation points! That is a terribly old joke!!

Fuck, some days, I really hate myself. Just, FUCK! Damnable points.


*Caution: website may hurt your teeth.
- posted by Pat @ 8:14 PM

 
Moving on in life.

I was in champaign this weekend. The town where I created most of my boozy memories in life. It was a lot of fun. I didn't try to do too much, I just focused on playing hockey and getting some drinks in with rad people. This is a fairly safe way to go through life, I think. And while I was nostalgic for my time in Champaign, I didn't feel like I belonged there anymore. And I was ready to leave on Sunday, which is good. I take a while to let go of places I've lived, so its solid when I can.

My hockey skills were no where near as shitty as I thought they would be. Because, hey, remember the "life of pansy" ear infection I had? Yeah, wasn't playing too much hockey then. So, after three weeks off, and one practice, I still played well. I wasn't the best guy on my team, but I was a positive contributor to the game. Felt good.

Of course nothing happened with that girl. What are you, crazy? As if something good would ever happen in my love life. HA!

Possibly the best hockey party ever on Saturday. I got to make out with a couple of random girls. Definetly dumped the creepy stalker girl off on some Canadian. And was able to wander around these areas in one party:
-Dance Room
-Oversized Darts room (the darts were oversized) where people were playing for clothes
-kitchen with the shot fuckers
-the bonfire we stole from the neighbors party
-the room with Super Mario World (I'm better at it sober)
-the upstairs kitchen with a constant caps game

Really, it was a party for all ages. And times. Okay, maybe not ages. I don't know what your mom would be doing there except for... oh, right. Sorry, forgot about the bedrooms. Yeah, ouch dude. Sorry to break it to you like this. At least she was having fun!

Picked up the new "Trail of the Dead" disc. It is, as has been decribed in the comments, a great album. I good mix of melodic, flowing, almost choral parts with solid guitaring and great rhythm parts. And while the radio singles sound great on their own, they also fit in the album very well. I reccomend it to people who like good music.
- posted by Pat @ 1:40 PM