TV Shows vs. The Summer

OUR WORLD:

When it’s a beautiful day in the summer and your friends are asking you to play golf, ENJOY NATURE! (fuck off hippy) or meet up for drinks on a big, dumb patio and you pass that up to stay in to watch television, you know you’ve got an all-time show on your hands. In normal-weather cities, like Chicago, standards for television shows go up in the summer. With 2-3 months of not-jesus-christ-it’s-freezing temperatures, passing up those days to stay indoors brings on the type of guilt that results in involuntary “I’M NOT A LAZY PIECE OF SHIT!” scream sessions (especially unfortunate when these scream sessions take place inside your office.) Incurring that type of guilt-complex outburst to watch some Michael Strahan gameshow is CLEARLY not worth it. But have there been any shows this summer that are worth making your co-workers contemplate having you committed?

Let’s see….

BIG LITTLE LIES

Season 1 was fantastic with a capital FANTASTIC! I was really getting into Season 2 when I listened to a Bill Simmons podcast that basically made fun of me for loving the show…SO I GOT CONFUSED! How are you supposed to continue loving a show that your fave podcaster is kinda’ loving but also kinda’ making fun of? (Here’s how…uh…don’t be such a windsock little bitch?) I AM A GROWN MAN WHO IS TOUGH AND STRONG AND I….LIKED SEASON 2 OF ‘BIG LITTLE LIES’!!!! (Why are you crying then?)

There’s just no way to deny the acting performances in this show. I’m always overeager to give all of the credit for a show or movie’s success to the writers, but with this cast, I think they could make the fine print of your electric bill entertaining. (I never trusted that fucking meter!) Early in the season, when Meryl Streep begins to make her presence known, I remember looking to the VP after each scene and saying “no, no SHE is the best actress on this show!” Reese, Kidman, Streep, and Dern all took turns hoisting the “Best Actress on TV” trophy in between scenes of Shailene Woodley and Zoe Kravitz pretending to hold back tears because they’re tough, but not all the way because they’re DEALING WITH STUFF. (If you want to see my best impression, ask me for my Zoe Kravitz in ‘Big Little Lies’ Season 2 face. I’m incredibly proud of it.)

Now, if you haven’t finished it, I won’t lie, the ending doesn’t deliver in the way you’re hoping it will. It’s not so disappointing that you should stop watching it now, but if you were thinking of skipping getting bombed outside with friends you feel comfortable splitting a check with, then I’d urge you to reconsider. Season 2 is seven episodes, and episodes 3-5 pick up the kind of momentum that makes you say things like “I wanna be a big, little liar!” But then you watch episodes 6 & 7, calm down, and explain to your wife that you’re not a liar.

Worth giving up big, dumb patio drinking time with friends? Almost, but not if that patio serves good margaritas with fat salt crystals lining the rim.

YELLOWSTONE

I’m not qualified to even really write about this show because (you’re a bad writer and nobody values your opinions) I’m basically a full season behind. Think of this as more of a Public Service Announcement: if you have yet to start “Yellowstone,” you need to start watching it now before you’re a full two or three seasons behind and feel too intimidated to even start it. I call this the “Breaking Bad Syndrome”–where you know a show is amazing, but get so far behind that you feel like you’ll never get caught up so…you just don’t, but you do lie to people and say “oh, yeah” when they ask if you’ve seen it. Based on the first 6 episodes of Season One, “Yellowstone” is on the trajectory where in about a year and a half, most of the people you know will ask if you’ve seen it and judge you if you haven’t. It’s not too late, guys. Start now.

Think of this show as the cowboy version of “Succession,” where you trade some witty sarcasm for good fight scenes in dive bars. Kevin Costner is here to remind you that he’s still the man you want to become, and his kids in the show look really fucking cool in their ranchin’ clothes (wait, this show has ranchin’ clothes?!?!) Yeah, we’re talking full-on dusty cowboy boots, flannel shirts in the heat (how is this possible?), and cowboy hats that look like they were born to wear them. After watching a few episodes, you’ll think about adopting this look, and then quickly abandon the idea once you realize that the jeans they were aren’t stretchy (once you wear stretchy jeans, you can never return to NOT wearing stretchy jeans.)

Worth giving up big, dumb patio drinking time with friends? Yes, unless you have friends who are from Montana and say things like “I reckon'” without sounding ridiculous.

SOUTHERN CHARM

I’m going to be honest with you guys…the show badly misses T-Rav. BADLY. Now, does it make me feel good that I’m lamenting the loss of a probable-rapist from a reality show on BRAVO? No. It actually makes me feel horrible that I even wrote that, so I’m immediately taking that back. Folks, please disregard the opening two lines in this section; I’ve only had 1.7 cups of coffee thus far, and everyone knows that I’m not my true self until I’ve hit the 2.4 cup mark (he’s right, everyone knows this.)

What I’m trying to say is that this season of “Southern Charm”, while still entertaining in the way that a bag of chips is satisfying, it’s causing me to feel as bad as I do after gorging on a bag of Salt ‘n Vins. This season, more than any before, I’m finding myself saying “I think these guys are just kinda’ sad losers, though…” (Is Jimmy finally criticizing people who drink too much?) The episode where Austin breaks up with Madison over the phone and then gets hammered with Shep and Craig on like a Tuesday night, played like an exploding “WE’RE ADULT DO-NOTHINGS!” neon. And I hate that I sound like that friend who gets off on criticizing reality TV, but Shep is close to 40 and looks like damp dishrag every episode. Craig, while still lookin’ LIKE A GODDAMN SNACK, has permanent Lindsey Lohan-voice, and Kathryn feels the need to constantly remind everyone in her vicinity that, no matter how big her house is, she’s still the number one victim in the world.

Listen, it’s still worth watching to make fun of stuff with your VP of Ops (yeah, you can use it, as long as you give me proper credit every single time you do.) But the older and more responsible I’m forced to get, the more I feel myself resenting people who are given life on a silver platter, yet still complain as much as often as they breathe. I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO FEEL SO STRONGLY AGAINST REALITY TELEVISION AND IT’S MAKING ME UNCOMFORTABLE!

Worth giving up big, dumb patio drinking time with friends? Not this season, but if T-Rav makes a comeback then…NOPE, NOPE, STOPPING NOW!

MY WORLD:

The VP and I moved into our new apartment over the weekend. Clarification: when I say that “we” moved, what I really mean is that we watched three men move all of our stuff and almost die of heat exhaustion while we pretended to do things not near them because we felt so guilty. I know what you’re thinking, “but Jimmy, did you show all the movers the scar on your leg and talk about the ankle surgery you had?” Uh, duh guys, what do I look like? You really think I’m going to be silent while being emasculated right in front of my wife? THINK AGAIN, BUBBAS! (It was still weird when you used a bright, red marker to draw a circle around your scar tho…)

Anyway, we’re in to our new, bigger apartment now and besides pretending like I’m the mayor of box city, I’ve been fantasizing about how I could configure what will soon-be my office. Yeah guys, this will be the first apartment that I finally have an office in, and I feel like Tommy Boy after his Dad shows him the mini-fridge in his new office. Right when we moved in, I walked into the office, opened the door to it’s closet and said “I could put coat–or jackets–or pants in here!” To which the VP responded, “anything, you’d like to keep out of the way.” Then I bear hugged her before barreling into the kitchen for a victory beer. (What did you even win?)

Now, I have to play this cool and say things to the VP like, “hey, this isn’t JUST my office, this is OUR office.” But, between you and me, it’s my goddamn office and I’m probably going to install a lock on it that I’m never going to give The VP a key to. “Wait, really? A lock? That’s so weird!” Will definitely be something I say to her many times before changing the subject as quickly as possible.

I’m finally going to be able to put up all of the cool pictures that the VP of Ops has had “qualms” with in past apartments (what do you mean you don’t want the picture of Michael Jordan’s last shot as a Chicago Bull above our couch?) But what else should I do with the space? Here are some options, I’m mulling:

Multiple TVs hung on the wall
A fancy office chair that I can see how many times I can spin around in without having my feet touch the ground
A mini fridge
A fish tank that I can put numerous really weird-looking fish in and name all of them “Erin”
A phone connected to the landline that I could call from my cell phone whenever The VP and I are having a “civil disagreement,’ so when it rings, I can say, “sorry, I have to take that.”

I’ll keep you updated on my office construction, but please don’t tell The VP that it’s not hers and that she’s never going to be welcome in that room. Thanks guys.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting to the age where you no longer feel comfortable not updating the address on your Drivers License whenever you move. So now, moving ALSO includes a trip to the DMV.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

JIMMY GAMBLES:

This section sucks right now and I know it. Until football season arrives, I’ll try to come up with something better.

K bye.

Mindless Television and “The Chicago Reset”

OUR WORLD:

You know it’s an especially sad state of affairs when you find yourself searching for a television show and the number one quality you’re looking for is a show “that doesn’t require much effort.” Usually, this comes after having eaten two mini-brownies, putting on the same pair of mesh shorts you’ve been wearing at night for the past two months and letting out sigh that really sounded more like “oooooof.” (Was it even a ‘sigh’ then?!?!) When the physicality of SITTING is too much if it also includes having to use your brain for more than four seconds at a time, things are GOING ON. Over the past few months, I have found myself in this position. (Sitting? Yeah, we know Jimmy.)

This thing happens when you get back into snacking, baked goods and allowing yourself to go into “fuck it”-mode, where all you want out of a television show are some bright lights, gentle smiles and OBNOXIOUSLY SIMPLE STORYLINES. I think this is why Food Network and HGTV exist, but I have found other shows that fit the bill. Thus, I give you the Jimmyschair “I’m Too Lazy To Watch A Show That Makes Me Use My Brain Even A Little Bit”-Television Show Rankings:

5) “The Voice”

It’s a show revolving around people singing, other people pushing a button that means “good singing” and a guy whose haircut changes every commercial break. “The Voice” has a hypnotic quality to it that is kicked off with that person? woman? group of people? Proclaiming “This is…THE VOICE!” every time you go in and out of commercial. It’s almost like they know they’re aiming for the people that have gotten too into baked goods recently and are going in and out of a carbohydrate daze. Every seven minutes, when they find their eyes beginning to shutter, they’re SHOCKED with a “THIS IS THE VOICE!” I’m pretty sure while watching this, I’ve turned to the person in the room with me and nodded after hearing this. Like, “hey, this is The Voice, they’re right.”

Once your set in knowing what you’re watching (thanks to the constant reminders) your lazy brain gets to scan Twitter and Instagram aimlessly while listening to contestants you’ll never see again, do their best “I’m more than a karaoke star”-rendition of “Shallow.” You’ll catch yourself thinking for a second that it’s Lady Gaga, look up to see that it’s not, and then listen a teensy bit closer so you can make some insightful critique like “got pitchy there.” (I don’t know what ‘pitchy’ means, but The VP of Ops says it and she did music stuff in high school. So…yeah, I use it.)

If you zone out while refreshing Instagram for the 856th time in the last nine minutes, and forget to listen long enough to decide whether Sally Soprano sang that Train song well enough to advance, just wait to hear the big “boooosh” sound the buttons make when the judges hit them. Did the producers know that the audience would be paying as little attention as possible? “Hey, just incase they don’t see the big buttons light up and the chairs turn around, let’s add a big, dumb sound effect!” (Thank you producers.)

If that’s not an easy enough show for you to follow, then just enjoy the hair stylings of Adam Levine. Every time the show comes back from commercial break, turn to the person next to you and say “he change his hair every time they go to break?” You’ll get a half chuckle and that’s all you’re really looking for.

4) Local News

The local news knows you don’t go outside very much. (Wait…do they have spies? WHO’S THERE?!?!) Why else do you think they make the entire show all about the weather segment? A couple quick hits about some horrible things going on not-that-far-from-where-you-are-sitting are softened because the guy telling you these things is, for some reason, smiling while reading the teleprompter. So you’re not sad, but more sure than ever that you’re in a legitimate sugar stupor (shooting is bad, but smiling is good…so….it’s okay?)

But what every local newscast is REALLY about, is the weather segment. The weather person has the most charisma of the anchors (that’s a low bar….OUCH!) and they know that the people watching have been looking out their window for hours, going “I think it’s gonna rain soon, better stay in.” So every segment teases what everyone watching is really waiting for. “Don’t worry, we’re going to tell you soon that it’s okay that you’ve stayed inside for the last 13 weeks!” I also think that’s why in the forecasts, the Weatherperson always says “with a chance of rain.” It traps the tubbos inside–fearful of even the slightest chance of being pierced with one of those water droplet things. (I’M HIT!!!!)

3) House Hunters

You’re sitting in a house-like thing (does a one-bedroom apartment count as a house?) and you get to watch people looking at house-like things while making judgements like “I really don’t like this backsplash.” Riveting and exactly what you’re looking for. Impossibly easy to follow, featuring narration by a lady with a very soothing voice and starring two people where one is ALWAYS obnoxious. (The casting director has to have so much fun telling that person, “hey, you’re the obnoxious one in this episode. Make sure you scrunch your face up and critique a carpeted bedroom at least twice!”)

If you haven’t paid close attention throughout the show–because that’s the point of watching it–don’t even worry about it! Why? Because this half-hour show includes A RECAP before the final segment. They give you a “get out of confusion”-free card because they KNOW you haven’t really been watching! “Okay people, we know you’ve gotten deep into your group text chain, so real quick, here are the 3 houses these dummies are deciding between.” Haven’t been watching? BOOM, you’re back. You get to toss out a you-can-tell-I’m-concentrating-because-my-eyes-are-squinting- “I like the one wif da pool,” before the couple you don’t like for no good reason picks the ONE WIF DA POOL! Nothing like feeling accomplished while sitting.

2) The Office

This goes for any show you’ve seen more than nine bajillion times. For me, that show is “The Office,” thus, it’s why it is the current king of “I don’t know what to watch, let’s just put _____________ on.” I don’t think I even really watch the episodes anymore while they’re on. It’s more a cover for me to scan my phone. If the TV is on and I’m able to toss out a chuckle here or there, then I can’t be accused of being addicted to my phone, right? You may not have sat down to totally dissect this phenomenon, but that’s what is happening. Other shows that fall into this category are “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”, “Seinfeld”, “Friends”, “Curb Your Enthusiasm”, and “Parks and Rec”. These are the “If I was addicted to my phone, how would I know when to laugh?”-shows. We’re not fooling anyone…(DID THAT JUST BLOW YOUR FRIGGIN MIND?!?!)

1) Anything Guy Fieri

What is a more joyful sight than Guy’s face? He’s never not on the verge of EXTREME happiness. And what causes this EXTREME happiness? Something that we all can get inside our refrigerator!!! While a good amount of food and cooking shows, are trying to help you elevate your palate, Guy tells you that your palate is FINE AND IF YOU’RE TOO GOOD FOR A DINER, YOU CAN FUCK RIGHT OFF TO HELL! But instead of saying those exact words, he communicates that with ENERGY and spikey hair.

If you’re not watching the show, it’s okay because his voice is so excited and happy that you are subconsciously convinced that you, too, are also excited and happy. Again, you’re in a trance-like state, so when your brain processes a booming voice doling out the virtues of a trailer that serves waffle fries, it’s like you’re in that trailer with Guy and ABSOLUTELY LOVING EVERY SECOND OF IT. (I’M SO LUCKY TO BE EATING FRIED THINGS INSIDE A TRAILER PARKED BEHIND THAT ABANDONED MOTEL!)

Tip your hat to the King of Modern-Day Hypnosis, Guy Fieri.

MY WORLD:

I went to a Cubs game and sat in the bleachers on Saturday. If you’re not from Chicago, here is the literal translation for that first sentence: “I sat in the sun and drank 82 beers on Saturday.” (Just 82? Not foolin’ anyone Pal!) Anyway, I came away convinced that no matter how old you are, if you live in Chicago and are feeling the need to hit the “reset” button, the bleachers at Wrigley are where you go. (My how elaborate your drinking justifications have become, Jimmy…)

If you haven’t been to the bleachers, it’s not the same as just going to a Cubs game. It’s another world. A world where age doesn’t exist, beer is currency and the sun is that friend who keeps telling you to “just enjoy the moment!” There was a guy in his 60s with really good hair, dancing during every inning break. There were a few fights far enough away to feel safe while yelling “GET HIM!!!” There was a friend who masked sweating through his shorts by having our group douse him with water in between innings, and then feigning anger by yelling “not on my new shorts!” And, of course, there were and obscene amount of Bud Lights.

Looking to hit “reset”? Spend a day sweating on a bench in the sun, high above Sheffield Ave. You’ll wake up the next morning dehydrated, yes, but you’ll also be rid of whatever was inside you that pushed you to reach for that “reset” button. After the age of 26, you can only do one Wrigley Bleacher day during the summer, but no matter your age or circumstance, I think we all need one “Chicago Reset.”

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you wear sandals and are walking up the stairs, and your sandal catches the lip of a stair and you slam your shin into the front of the next stair. I saw this happen to a friend in the bleachers and I wanted to hold him for the rest of the game.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

DOES JIMMY STILL GAMBLE?

Yes.

K, bye.

The 4th of July Stinks and My Dog is Making Me Feel Fat (7/3/18)

OUR WORLD:

One of the best things about this big, smelly country is a little thang called “freedom of speech,” mmmkay? So check me out exercising this freedom when I say the following: the 4th of July stinks. STINKS, FOLKS! (Dear ICE, you know that Jimmyschair guy? Can you chop his head off please?…Why not?) A day during the hottest month of the year that we HAVE to spend outside in front of grills that are making the cheapest of grilled meats all leading up to sitting in long grass and getting mauled by Zika-ridden Mosquitoes to watch 8 minutes of fireworks. Oh, and the best part? It’s on a Wednesday this year, so you have the option of blowing a vacation day on Thursday or showing up to work in your best hangover disguise, holstered with the “my allergies are horrible!”-excuse as you try to stop dry-heaving in front of your boss. You know why people call this holiday simply “the 4th”? Because it’s the 4th best summer holiday (That’s not true, Jimmy. SHUT UP MOM!) Give me Memorial Day, Labor Day, and MY FRIGGIN’ BIRTHDAY AKA FLAG DAY, a trillion times out of a trillion over “the 4th”. (Point Jimmyschair.)

Now, does the 4th stink compared to a typical day? Do I look like a stupid idiot? Of course it’s great compared to your typical July workday. We’re talking compared to other holidays here, try to keep up JERKS! (I didn’t mean that and feel bad about lashing out). Lets go through why, compared to other holidays, the 4th STINKS:

Fireworks are overrated: I can’t believe this is that hot of a take, but I’ve never been a big fireworks guy. Even as a kid, I remember wondering when the whole “show” would end so I could go back home and play video games. Before television, I’m sure I would’ve thought fireworks were cool, but now I’m supposed to bypass getting to watch 2-3 episodes of “Southern Charm” (The VP and I have been binging this and DADDY LIKEY!) Colorful explosions in the sky < Did Craig take the bar yet? (TeamCraig stand up!) Even if you’re not in the midst of a “Southern Charm” binge, please do not even try to tell me that watching fireworks is preferable to watching a TV show of your choice while on a recliner in an air conditioned room. Firework shows last 18 minutes tops? And how long did it take you to get to your friends backyard or rooftop or local…uh…field? Probably AT LEAST 20 minutes each way, but it’s not like you can just show up for the fireworks and toss up deuces (PEACE!) the second after the finale. NO WAY JOSE! You’re getting there early, bringing some mayo “salad” and you’re staying after for at least one “I’m too tired to drink this and then drive home”-beer.

*Quick breather: I’m aware I sound like the ultimate Debbie Downer. To play my own Devil’s Advocate for a second, it is ALWAYS fun to hang out with your best friends and get drunk. However, with the 4th landing on a school night this year, this will be like the first NFL Sunday of the year where you get drunk with your friends and then silently freak out at night about how hungover you’re going to be at work the next day. Whenever you’re playing the “I’m going to be hungover at work tomorrow”-game, you’re playing with fire and DEFINITELY worrying about it every time you open a new beer.

BACK TO HATE-CITY! I touched on this last week, but when you live in a big city, for the week leading up to and the week after the 4th, there are CONSTANT random fireworks going off throughout the night. When you live with a wife who has been mugged and a dog who gets stressed at the sound of a sneeze, these sounds are not exactly comforting. I took Numba One Pretty Gurrrrllll Belle out for a walk last night and felt like I was an extra on the set of “Saving Private Ryan 2: Escape from Chicago”. This is why when I’m never sad when I hear stories about people blowing off their fingers setting off fireworks. THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR SCARING ME AND MY PRETTY PRINCESS BABY BELLE!!!

It’s too hot to be in front of a grill or hanging outside all day: The 4th is the number one day for making people feel guilty for wanting to stay inside. As someone extremely sensitive to guilt-trips (are you mad at me?) this is my nightmare. Why do we have to feel guilty for not wanting to spend the entire day in stifling heat and humidity? Hard to get a beer buzz when you’re sweating through your friggin’ eyeballs! If you told your friends or spouse, that you were planning to spend the 4th under a blanket in your air-conditioned coldbox of an apartment watching reality television all day, you’d immediately be slapped with the “it’s too nice to spend the day inside”-guilt trip. Fuck. That. I’m all for spending nice days outside, but the majority of my Independence Day memories include sticking to my chair and slapping at the mosquitoes treating my legs the way I treat corn on the cob. (Not coming up for air until that corncob is raw!)

How many times can I get excited about hot dogs and hamburgers? I like grilling as much as the next Joe Blow (I don’t even know ONE Joe Blow, Jimmy!) but how many times can I get excited about cheap meats that are, most likely, poorly cooked by a half-drunk “grill master”? If you’re blessed enough to go to a spot that’s cooking up steaks or fancy chicken then you win; but most of us are stuck with Uncle Larry and his technique of smashing burgers on the grate until they’re hockey puck tough. “Have you seen my ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron, guys?” Is this dinner or a hack-job comedy routine where everyone pretends their dinner doesn’t SUCK?!?! (Can you drown in ketchup?)

*Related, I can’t wait to buy a “Kiss the Cook” apron. I plan to wear it every single night of the year just to make that joke to The VP so many times that she goes into therapy. “The thing is, I don’t want to kiss the cook. Matta’ o fack, I’ve developed a deep seeded hatred for the cook and his stupid fucking apron!”

Having to be around people who don’t work the next day when you do: Every year there’s the group of your friends at the party who love reminding everyone that they don’t work the next day. You’ll say stuff like “wow, I’m jealous” and then play it off like it’s not that big of a deal. In reality, though, you want to go to the bathroom and cry while looking at yourself in the mirror. (My life isn’t as good as their life!) The impromptu “whose job has the most relaxed vacation day policy?”-competition is never fun for the losers. So you’re left either sipping on a lukewarm Coors Light while your besties get blackout without a care in the world, or you throw caution to the wind and sign up to be MISERABLE at your desk the next morning. What an option! I love watching the person who does work the next day get progressively drunker and sadder as the night goes on. The whole “I’m going to get drunk and not even think about the consequences” act is impossible after the age of 30. It’s a game of chicken that, even after 30 beers, you know you’re losing. (This person is usually me btw).

Can’t wait.

MY WORLD:

My dog Belle got a real short haircut on Sunday because she had mats and it’s super hot outside for a big FLOOF dog. She looks so much thinner! I was calling her “Chubba Bubba” before this cut, but now she looks like the Nicole Kidman of dogs so I’ve re-nicknamed her “Nicole Belleman” (not my best, but The VP chuckled). Anyway, this haircut and the effect it has had on her looks has got me thinking…do I need to get a buzzcut? It feels like Belle has a newfound skinny-dog confidence, and is kinda’ judging ME for not being as skinny as her. I think that she thinks that she’s better than me!

I’m currently mired in the phase of hair-length where I wear a hat every single day because I’m too lazy to properly style it in the morning. And maybe this length/lack of styling is making me appear fatter than I am? (That’s what I’m going to tell myself, at least. The fact that all my shorts feel outrageously tight MUST be tied to my hair and not my recent diet of cookies and craft beer!) Like, I’d love to show up with a new haircut and have people think “wow! I had no idea Jimmy was that skinny!” That could happen! It happened for Belle! In High School I got a buzz cut and looked a little nazi-ish, but that was like forever ago which means it wouldn’t be the same, right? If I do get a buzzcut I would have to worry about my hair growing back AND if it would highlight me getting thin on top. Plus, if I get a buzzcut, I can’t cover it up with a hat because bald guys with hats make EVERYONE uncomfortable. (Seriously, I’d feel more comfortable next to a drooling tiger than a bald guy with a big loose hat sitting on his dumb head.) As you can tell, I’m in a real pickle here folks. I want to shock people with how thin I can suddenly appear, but do I risk being the Nazi-lookin’ bald guy who’s making everyone uncomfortable with his ill-fitting hat? You’re never in a good place body-image-wise when you’re jealous of how skinny your dog looks.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Bet you didn’t think I’d like this song…

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Getting into your car when it’s super hot outside and feeling the life get sucked out of you while waiting for your AC to actually get cold. It’s a race against time that I’m convinced will be the death of me.

GAMBLING UPDATES ARE STILL ON HOLD. I AM CURRENTLY WORKING ON A STRATEGY THAT WILL ALLOW ME TO NEVER LOSE AND ONLY WIN BETS. BLUEPRINTS, REPORTS AND STACKS OF PROPOSALS ARE INVOLVED…

K bye.

Sleeping W/Out AC and Chicago Renters Pt. II (5/2/2018)

MY WORLD:

If you are looking for a way to guarantee waking up in an AWFUL mood, I would suggest breaking your air conditioning unit on the first hot day of the year and trying to sleep when it’s 80 degrees in your apartment. Thankfully, I, personally, don’t have to break my air conditioning unit because The VP and I are lucky enough to rent an apartment that SUPPLIES malfunctioning units without us even having to ask for it! It’s almost as if the landlord read our minds when we signed our lease “I bet these two LOVE when the AC doesn’t work and they get to break a sweat while lying in a bed…oh, have I got a surprise for them!” Well done on keeping that surprise a secret for 8 months!

Honestly, it’s hard to overcome a shitty night of tossing and turning in your own sweat. I got up at like 3AM just to stand in front of my open refrigerator. And you know what makes me feel even softer, is that it wasn’t THAT hot outside. Unfortunately, we cooked last night (resourceful adults, whatever) and used our oven. It was only after dinner when we realized that the AC wasn’t working. So we basically hotboxed ourselves/turned our apartment into a makeshift sauna (hotbox is a weed smoking term that I have never done but it sounds SCARY!) Let me be the first to warn you guys, cranking your oven up on a hot night and turning your 1 bedroom apartment into a homemade sauna is NOT going to relax your muscles.

Then, as if it wasn’t bad enough on us, our numba one pretty gurrrrllll was panting because she’s overdue for a summer cut because we’ve been lazy dog parents lately; so I felt hot AND guilty. If Belle could read this, I feel like she’d roll her eyes and say something along the lines of “YOU were hot? Try wearing a full-body fur suit and only getting to cool of with room temperature water in a dirty bowl. Pussy.” (She would be correct.) I will say that last night, I put some ice cubes in her water bowl and felt like the hero she deserved; she took sips and huffed out a very sarcastic sounding “woof.” So now my dog and I are in a fight.

Then comes the part where I let my building know (are you bored with this yet? Yeah? I don’t care, this is somewhat cathartic for me so just leave. You wanna leave?!?! WHO’S STOPPING YOU?!?!? GOD I’M IN A MOOD!) Where was I? (Thanks for interrupting!) Right, so then comes the part where I let my building know and I get to hear back from like 7 different guys who must ALL have degrees in “Trying To Hide The Fact That I Have No Idea When The HVAC Guy Is Coming.” Then. THEN! When they do actually get here, I have to lock Belle in our bedroom and convince the HVAC repair people that she’s not able to bulldoze through the door to maul them because she sounds like a PSYCHOKILLER LUNATIC! I’ll make some “doesn’t she sound sweet?” jokes, but they won’t really laugh because hearing what sounds like your maker on the other side of a thin bedroom door does not create a fun-loving atmosphere. And you know they’re not going to be able to fix it the first time they’re hear, so The VP and I are looking at 2 more nights MINIMUM of trying to sleep in our own sweat. Isn’t that just GREAT?!?!

Knowing me, I’m going to convince myself that this awful night sleep that I got is a valid excuse to eat something really shitty for lunch; an effort to make myself feel better in the short term. This will, undoubtedly, lead to me feeling extra tight in my new J.Crew jeans and hating myself for the rest of the afternoon. Optimism is at an all-time low in the Pomerantz household right now. (If you can’t tell, one of my strong suits is staying composed in adverse situations.)

OUR WORLD:

Today’s Part II of “The Life of a Chicago Renter” may have a slight edge to it based on my current mental state (re: My World). I just wanted to put that on the record because…nobody cares about the record and whenever anyone says that it’s basically an excuse to act however you want. Right? It’s the same as saying “That being said…” and along the same lines as “No offense, but…”

Wicker Park/Bucktown/Logan Square: (Age 28-32)

I like to refer to this as the “I’m not a hipster, but if I live near them I may get hit with some of their street-cred shrapnel”-phase. You start to become more interested in drinking things other than beer and vodka sodas, and you’re DONE living in places with window-units and no dishwasher. These west-side HOT SPOTS have exploded in popularity over the past decade, which means what? GRANITE COUNTERTOPS Y’ALL!!! And in-unit washer/dryers, dishwashers and fancy modern sinks. A big bowl sink feels like luxury when you’re used to decades worth of Heineken stains in your old-timey sink with the faucet that pops off.

There are more dog parks, so now is the PERFECT time to get a doogenstein and join the “I’m sorry, she was adopted”-crew. Side note: whether you actually adopted your dog or not, the perfect excuse for a poorly behaved dog is to drop a “yeah, she was adopted” in there. Immediately, you’re a selfless hero and your doogensteeglestein is a victim of a rough upbringing. Once in Wicker/Buck/Logan, you’re surrounded by young families, dogs and people that aren’t quite done partying, but do it in a way that it’s not SO obviously destructive. They’re professionals by this point, which is why brunch becomes SUCH deal. Nothing like hiding binge drinking with eggs and toast; it’s not destructive or a “problem” if it’s done in the light at a breakfast table. Remember that.

Then there’s the hipster versus bro civil war that has been simmering for the past 5 years as the bros have infiltrated hipster-land. What’ll probably happen with you, is what happened with me; you’ll claim allegiance to the bro side of the war when you’re around your bro-ier friends, and then you’ll claim allegiance to the hipster side of the war when you’re around your hipster-ier friends. No shame in playing both sides here because both sides kinda stink equally. It’s also fun to sit in restaurants and bars and see the two sides glaring at each other from across the bar. The hipsters say things like “wow, sweet khakis bro” and the bros say things like “wow, sweet fingerless gloves pal”. It’s a duel totally devoid of actual wit, that’s easy to identify and fun to watch.

Ukrainian Village/River West/West Town/West Loop: (Age 32-DEATH)

I’m 32 now and I live in Ukrainian Village. That’s really all the experience I have so…I assume I’ll just stay here till I die, right?

Good section, Jimmy!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I need some good-times music to help make me feel better about the whole AC sitch. SING TO ME STEVE!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Being in a bad mood for a reason so slight that anyone going through anything that’s ACTUALLY difficult would hate you.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I talked my gambling crew out of taking the Pelicans last night because I was POSITIVE the Warriors would blow them out with Steph Curry returning. It seems, in the face of all the evidence I had, I have yet to crack the NBA code. Back to the drawing board, but I’m like that little kid in the deep end who’s about to panic that they’re drowning. Give me some fucking waterwings or something here! The Jazz are 11 point underdogs tonight and, they have more pride than that. Right? So much pride to take them on the moneyline? YUP!

(My account currently at $88.07)

K bye.