Dickie Cronkite

This weekend I think I covered just about all of 'em. Well, maybe not "Wrath" unless you include that waitress we had at Clark's on Belmont - I really hope something bad happens to her...

Just landed back in God's Country - I feel like I've been hit by a bus. Seriously, Courtney Love had a more subdued New Year's celebration than we did yesterday, this morning - whatever. I feel like the guitarist for Motley Crue, circa 1988 at 7am on a Sunday.

So it's a good thing I had an entire aisle to myself to stretch out and relax from Chi-town all the way to ... St. Louis. (I don't think the plane even had to take off.)

It's even better my connecting flight from St. Louis to God's Country stuck me in row 31 out of 32, pressed up against a loud jet engine outside to my right, and a stewardess angrily smashing beverage ice to my left. After about five minutes of smashing, I broke federal regulations and tried to tamper with my window - certain that the engine would mercifully suck me in - but no luck.

When I ordered a bloody mary mix, the girl next to me took one look and said, "You must have done some serious partying!" I think I just whimpered in response, looking greener than both the Grinch and Kirtyword at 2am last night when the champaigne finally caught up to her.

I also did my best to not-smell. See, Kirtyword's bathroom plumbing busted a pipe last night as we were getting ready, sending bathwater leaking onto the restaurant tables downstairs (and hopefully ruining some couple's special New Year's Eve dinner), so I haven't showered in the last 36 hours or so. Normally, this isn't a big deal...with two important exceptions I recently learned:

You live at the Equator, and
You're flying home straight from a New Year's Eve party.

I was wearing the same clothes, so chances are I was That Guy on the plane that your friends always relate horror stories about. "I don't know what that guy's problem was!!" ... Well, maybe I do, alright?

Ugh. Christ. Two hours of sleep? Three? If you'll excuse me, I have to go curl up and do my best impression of that handless guy in Se7en that Kevin Spacey keeps barely alive for more than a year, with all the air fresheners hanging over his bed.

[thud]

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2006-01-01 10:57 PM Seven deadly sins. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (16) Share on Facebook	This weekend I think I covered just about all of 'em. Well, maybe not "Wrath" unless you include that waitress we had at Clark's on Belmont - I really hope something bad happens to her... Just landed back in God's Country - I feel like I've been hit by a bus. Seriously, Courtney Love had a more subdued New Year's celebration than we did yesterday, this morning - whatever. I feel like the guitarist for Motley Crue, circa 1988 at 7am on a Sunday. So it's a good thing I had an entire aisle to myself to stretch out and relax from Chi-town all the way to ... St. Louis. (I don't think the plane even had to take off.) It's even better my connecting flight from St. Louis to God's Country stuck me in row 31 out of 32, pressed up against a loud jet engine outside to my right, and a stewardess angrily smashing beverage ice to my left. After about five minutes of smashing, I broke federal regulations and tried to tamper with my window - certain that the engine would mercifully suck me in - but no luck. When I ordered a bloody mary mix, the girl next to me took one look and said, "You must have done some serious partying!" I think I just whimpered in response, looking greener than both the Grinch and Kirtyword at 2am last night when the champaigne finally caught up to her. I also did my best to not-smell. See, Kirtyword's bathroom plumbing busted a pipe last night as we were getting ready, sending bathwater leaking onto the restaurant tables downstairs (and hopefully ruining some couple's special New Year's Eve dinner), so I haven't showered in the last 36 hours or so. Normally, this isn't a big deal...with two important exceptions I recently learned: You live at the Equator, and You're flying home straight from a New Year's Eve party. I was wearing the same clothes, so chances are I was That Guy on the plane that your friends always relate horror stories about. "I don't know what that guy's problem* was!!"* ... Well, maybe I do, alright? Ugh. Christ. Two hours of sleep? Three? If you'll excuse me, I have to go curl up and do my best impression of that handless guy in Se7en that Kevin Spacey keeps barely alive for more than a year, with all the air fresheners hanging over his bed. [thud] Read/Post Comments (16) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top
:: HOME :: GET EMAIL UPDATES :: The Desert Sun :: J-school :: Undergrad :: Hoya Saxa :: The Other Dark Continent :: Greatest Sports Franchise Ever :: Bill Simmons - Sports Guy Home Page :: Laker Jim's Kurt Rambis Page :: Dodger Blues Dot Com :: This American Life :: Slate :: NOVICA.com :: Racist Big East Semi Final Loser :: Karen Warrior-Chieftain :: Sara Global :: Kirty Word :: Award-winning Pointlessness :: The Ultimate Douchebag :: RM :: Miss E's Opinions :: Dad's book ::