Tag Archives: Chicago

The Great Chicago Experiment 2! or “I did not sign up for this, crazy old lady!”

There are two subversive forces at work in the apartment complex I live in (three, if you count the mailman).  The first of these is a cat I cannot curse at enough.  Sarah has claimed that one of these days, Chester (as she has christened him) will be living with us, and I have said in no uncertain terms that we will have had to have death-matched and I’ll have to have lost for that to have come to be.

 

(Please note in the most previous sentence to this, I used “had,” “has” twice, and “have” a ridiculous six times.  I’m not proud, but point it out and I’d like to invite you to come stare at my high-falutin’ writing degree sometime.  So just shut yer yap!) Continue reading

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The Great Chicago Experiment

Or, as it has been popularly titled by the girlfriend, Phase 2!, Phase 1 being the 21 months she spent here surveying and building an infrastructure and training the locals to do as would be deemed worthy in a Joe+ society.  And for this great city, and for this somewhat decent guy, D-Day arrived, some seventeen sunrises ago.

 

What has transpired since is a litany of job search engines, strategic bar infiltration, and sloth the likes of which this town hasn’t seen since the halcyon days of Big Bill Thompson and Great Depression Illinois.  This guy landed with dreams of reinventing himself as some weird chimera composed of big city gumption and old World Scranton alcoholism.  What has happened since is atypical for the man in question, if you have any knowledge of history, or can manage metaphorical references to Woodstock ’94, the Edsel, New Coke, or the discoveries in Al Capone’s vault. Continue reading

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