B to the E and You and Me

I don't mind if they dye the Chicago River green, but for fuck sakes stay away from my beer. St. Patrick's day is a great holiday and all and I don't mean to rain on anyone's parade but could you not put food coloring in my fucking beer?

I wish you could have seen this document I typed up at work last week. It was formatted sooo perfectly. The content was well planned and the conclusions I came to were revolutionary. I printed, stapled and collated a tall stack of them to hand out at the meeting. You would have been so proud. Did anyone actually read this masterpiece of modern business writing? Probably not. But that doesn't change the fact that this Microsoft word document will one day change business history and the world as we know it. Seriously

My computer at work is so slow that I feel some day I will just completely lose it and throw it out of the window. I thought about that the other day and realized that is probably why they gave me an office without any windows.

I got an Ipod for my birthday a few weeks back. Now I'm just another one of those young professional fucks with the "hip" white earphones that you want to strangle when you see em' walking through the train station. For this I apologize. But luckily I don't take the train to work but instead drive my big fucking gas guzzling SUV to work everyday, spewing gallons of pollution into the air while slugging down coffee out of a metallic thermos, gnawing on a stale bagel, and listening to my digital music on my trendy electronic device.

Recently I've gotten really into this new Budweiser beer called "B to the E," Have you heard of this stuff? Its this horrible tasting, "energy beer" with caffeine in it and about quadruple the calories of a regular brew. It kind of makes beer with green dye in it taste like heaven. At the same time, its amazing. I'm not really sure why. It kind of reminds me of Crystal Pepsi. In the sense that it's such a hideously stupid product that you almost have to be all about it.

Office gossip can be a pretty great way to keep yourself entertained during a particularly arduous day of work unless of course it's about you. Like those Mondays when people ask you what you did over the weekend and you remember telling them that you went downtown with a couple buddies to some bars in Wrigleyville, but by the end of the day the story is that you were wrestling on top of a bar with a one armed midget in some backwoods drinking establishment in Northern Wisconsin.

I need to do laundry and once again I have run out of quarters. God forbid this good for nothing landlord could go out of his way to provide us with a change machine. I always find myself scrounging up pocket change so that I can enjoy the pleasure of not going to work smelling of stale beer and fucking marlboro lights cigarettes. Why do so many girls smoke? Why does anyone smoke? Can we just take them all back into a dark alley and fucking shoot them?

At the same time I realize that some of my friends smoke so maybe that was a little too extreme. But can we at least put them all on an island or something? So I can sit and drink my sugar loaded, caffeinated "energy beers" in peace.

Turning 24

Last week I turned 24. yep. seriously. for real not for fake. It seems so old, but in reality that couldn't be further from the truth. I mean i suppose i don't live with my parents, am somewhat self sufficient, and manage to keep myself clothed and fed and for that I commend myself but..

I don't know.

I still feel like I don't have my act fully together yet.

I think I realized it as I was hunched over a toilet at a local bar on Madison street last Saturday at 2am relieving myself of about 15 beers, a handful of jagerbombs, and other no-name shots of booze that had somehow found themselves lodged in my stomach.

I think I realized it when some buddies and I thought it would be fun to shoot off handfuls of roman candles right next to my apartment complex at 2:30am and the other tenants in the building didn't agree.

I think I realized it when I was excited that friends had brought over six packs of Mickey's Malt Liquor and B to the Motherfucking E as birthday gifts and the imbibery that followed.

I think I realized it when someone pointed out that putting Ritz crackers still in the plastic sleeves and a jar of spreadable cheese with a knife in it on the table and buying a couple cases of beer doesn't neccessarily exude class or sophistication.

I think I realized it when I ran out of quarters for the washing machine the other day and decided to do laundry at my parents house and accidently left all of my cleaned towels at my parents place. and how I subsequently dried myself with a t-shirt for the next couple days cause I was too lazy to go to the store and buy a towel.

I think I've realized it and I suppose I'm just gonna go with it.