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Thursday, November 15, 2007
I went to Evanston, Illinois this week for some reason. I stayed at my roommate's grandfather's house, which was very nice and on a John Hughes Chicago suburb street with enormous lawns. We drank his beer and ate his candy while we watched Friday and then we went out for a drink. Turns out they're not much on drinking there because no one was out and the bars closed by 1 and our bill was a hundred dollars after sitting there for a little over a half-hour. It was so painful to look at that I just started to laugh when I saw it, and we were going to ditch the bill, but I guess we were either not drunk enough or too drunk to run, so my roommate pulled out his Associated Bank card and we road off into the breeze that came from the lake and we smoked pot on the car ride home, and then watched the first half of Batman Returns (I could go on for pages about why this is both the best Batman movie and the best Tim Burton movie, but not today) before passing out in my roommate's cousin's bunk bed.
Hungover the next day, I took the best shower of my life and ate caramel corn for breakfast. We got high almost immediately and dropped off Billy at the American Airlines terminal at O'Hare. We stopped at an Old West Town that was built for some reason in Rockford, Illinois, but it was closed, so went to the steakhouse next door and admired the buffalo heads on the wall and met a cop named Randy. That day we drove back to Madison and decided it was a good idea to see a movie, so we say The Darjeeling Limited. That night I looked up that movie on wikipedia, which didn't tell me anything worth knowing, but I clicked on the Bill Murray page and saw this picture, which is of Bill Murray in 1971 when he made pizzas at a Little Ceasars in, of all places, Evanston, Illinois. Try to find a moral or lesson in any of this and I'll kill you.