Marc

Joe Strummer, RIP
I won't say anything but this -- at least you did something with your life while you were here. Happy trails, mate.

On Packing, Again, to Go Home to See People: Bourbonnais. Bars. Tonight. I got a call last night from a girl I attended high school with that earned the dubious nickname of Jenitalia. Why? I don't know. I just started calling her that one day, and it sort of stuck from that point on. She's peaches, and she wants me to go out tonight. How can I resist? I will also be dragging one of the infamous LeRoy brothers out with me tonight, hopefully. If not, then bowling on Christmas night at Victory Lanes in Kankakee. It's a seasonal ritual that my close friends and I have. My girl Kristy tried to drag me to midnight mass at her church one Christmas, and I promptly refused. So, instead, we opted for Denny's at midnight on Christmas Eve, and we've been going there ever since. Probably for about seven years now. Wow. Seven years. Yeesh.

So. I bid all you merry blog-readers a happy holiday from work, or a Merry Christmas, or Happy Hanukah, or just a good day, no matter which way you celebrate it. It seems a shame that I don't have a job with all this money that seems to be flying out of my pockets lately. No matter. It's all going for a good cause -- to revive the economy ... or, to make my family and friends happy. Que-ev.

Ta-ta.