So yeah, we froze our butts off at the St. Patty’s day parade in Chicago (winds off of Michigan are as sadistic as a psycho dentist convention).

Torrie, Jess, and I made the trek to Chi-Town at 6:30 or so in the AM. We talked and pontificated on deep, deep things. Is it contemplating bestiality, if the animal is extinct?

We started drinking early, saw some parade, ate some lunch (the Shepard’s pie I had was alright…but I have, generally, found that folk from the British islands treat meals vaguely as a sort of punishment). It turns out I’m the world’s tallest leprechaun.

We napped in the early afternoon and woke in the early evening: DRINKING – ROUND 2. Steve joined us not long thereafter. More drinking. More drinking games. Visit to Hard Rock Café where Torrie tried to eat a lucky little candle. Happy 18th birthday Torrie – it’s all rated R movies from here on in!

At Excalibur, Torrie and Jess got hit on by more girls than Steve and I (Torrie likes reminding me of this). Seems I have a lot more luck when I’m there as Silent Bob. Girls like dancing with the Bob.

Back at the hotel, more drinking. I’ve never seen two girls trying to convince a guy to play strip poker and he resisting. Stranger and stranger…

Everyone asleep, sans poker, sometime between 3 and 4 in the morning. I stared at a dark ceiling for an hour or two before I gave up and went in the lobby to write. No sleep for Josh, but he did get some of his book done. A limo driver enquired if I needed a ride (I look like such the high roller) and gave me her card and then I, with coffee, put pen to journal and wrote “Little Toby smiled, feeling a wickedness of such purity, that it is only found in serial killers and children.” Before I knew it, a chapter of the book was done. Who needs sleep.

I went back up to the room at about 10 AM. Everyone got up. We went to the Shed Aquarium. Afterwards, we sank our ocean life hungry teeth into tender fish fillets at McDonalds.

Drive back. Tired. Discussions on whether or not self respect is contingent on the amount of clothing one is wearing (my position is that it is not…cloth, silk, and polyester do not help focus the psychic powers of self esteem…that’s science). When you ask too many questions…you’re bound to hear about cramps. Curiosity killed the cat-nap.

Torrie did her best to get me back on time (thank you, thank you) despite the copious volume of cops on the road. It turns out I was got there just in the nick of time (everyone else was running a little late). I was barely conscious through the Verbal Arts rehearsals…but everyone thinks I make a great Jaded Jesus (and for my next trick…I’ll turn this water into wine).

Now my parents are in Springfield, staying (for business) at the Crown Plaza (a nifty hotel). That means pool and hot tub privaliges for Josh ALL WEEK!