And so is the torrid throws of winter…or the holidays I suppose. I headed back to Wisco with a head full of steam or something. The holidays are great for seeing friends, seeing family, singing the wrong words to Christmas songs but most of all depressing the shit out of melancholy motherfuckers like myself.
My brother and his wife rolled into town about the time I did. Which is a good thing because they can cook. Well in fact.
I hit up Milwaukee to start with which was chalked full of hanging with sweet people and cheap beers. Honestly it would be cheaper to fly back to Milwaukee every week just to drink. Drunks love cheap drinks…and so do I…because I’m a drunk.
Really its not as bad as it seems. Not like I’m an old drunk, like this guy from the town where I grew up named Rooster. He was this red haired dude that would always buy us booze in high school, we had to throw a few dollars in his pocket but that’s “the game”. I bought some forty’s for some high school kids at the 7-11 the other day, they gave me 15 bucks, I suddenly saw the attraction.
Saturday we played the FTT seven-year reunion show. It was tight and the Milwaukee kids in Novel made it through the completely ridiculous fog to shake the floors at the armory. We drank our weight in whisky and stumbled to the after party at Dub’s parents house.
I miss a lot of people and realize it right away. My fam and me watch some football (Viking blow it at the end of the year and miss playoffs, go figure) some 30 rock (funny as fuck) and The Wire (one of the best shows I’ve ever seen). The WW crowd is right on and we rage at the bars.
Anyhow, I missed my flight then the rest got cancelled because of the snow and I went back to hang with Lady L, C-note and the Hempler. It was pretty sweet for missing the flight and all. Those kids are just neat, damn neat. I spend nearly all the next day at the airport. See, after flights get cancelled people get pissed and thousands of Illinois alumni trying to get to the Rose Bowl fit into that category. So I wait around and sleep when I can, my ass stinks and my feet hurt. I eventually lay some sob story on one of the fine people at United and they hook my up with a ticket in first class. I watch some shitty Josh Hartnett movie and give John Cusak an approving nod. Like he needs it.
I end up back in LA and feel pretty good about it. Now to get a job, or a clue.
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