Sep 132017

…when you’ve been blogging since 2001, coming up with titles eventually lands itself on the RAT’S ASS list.

I don’t know what that means, other than I’m all tapped out these days with stringing words together cleverly, like some fucking McSweeney’s Christmas tree garland.

Today’s Chicago weekend installment will mostly consist of photos of Navy Pier because, judging by my camera roll, I found that spot to be especially inspiring I guess.

As usual, I was the first one out of bed Sunday morning. I’m always rearin’ to go when we’re out of town, when Henry could happily lounge around the hotel room until noon. I guess he wants to get his money’s worth.

This view was super familiar by the time the weekend was over.

The plan for Saturday was to take the L downtown, have a cheap breakfast (LOLOLOL at cheap), and then head over to Navy Pier.

This little spot was so pretty and mysterious!

We decided to grab a donut a Do-Rite, because the Firecake donut from the night before had awoken some latent doughnut craving in me that has honestly never been active before. Very rarely do I ever seek out donuts, but that pistachio old-fashioned inspired me.

And of all the options at Do-Rite, I honed right in on their pistachio option, which was different than Firecakes. Theirs also had a meyer lemon glaze — two of my favorite flavors on one donut!

We also each got a breakfast sandwich, and I’m so happy we did because they were a million times better than I expected. I thought it was going to be some lazily slopped-together egg thing on a generic english muffin or something, but nope—they were served to us on warm, buttery brioche buns. Holy shit they were so good. Mine had avocado and some other shit on it, I can’t remember. I’m so glad that Chooch and I only ate half of our donuts, because these sandwiches needed to be devoured, entirely, at once.

Here’s my donut. I ate my sandwich too fast to get a picture.

These birds wanted us to feed them so bad but Henry was all DO NOT FEED THEM LOOK HOW FAT THEY ARE THAT ONE CAN BARELY FLY.

The highlight of breakfast, which we ate at a table outside of the shop, was when some blond bitch came over and squeezed herself into a table, slamming her chair into the back of some lady’s chair in the process. Said lady had been sitting peacefully at her table until this happened, and it made her snap out. She gathered up her belongings, turned to the chair-slammer and said, “YOU COULD HAVE SAID EXCUSE ME” and then stomped away. It was epic. So dramatic. The blond bitch never turned around, just acted like nothing happened and pretended she wasn’t some rude-ass bitch.


Coming up: so many pictures of whatever lake that is. You know, one of those great ones.

Henry said, “Pretend like you like each other” because we had been bickering so badly prior to this, you have no idea, except if you know us, yes you do have an idea. Probably several.

Pretending we like each other. “Oh, pu-hahahaha, such good times.” Chooch was mad because HE WANTED TO DO ALL OF THE THINGS and we kept saying no because I’m fucking sorry, but I didn’t go to Chicago to spend a beautiful day inside the Children’s Museum. I came to see fucking TAEYANG. GODDAMN PRINCE YOUNG-BAE. Everything else was secondary.

Furthermore, my kid never even wants to go to the Children’s Museum in our own damn city.

We did go on the ferris wheel thing though. Well, Chooch and I did. Henry is too much of a tight-wad*, so he stayed on terra firma.

*(Frugal or scared, you be the judge!)

We got to the Navy Pier right after it opened at 10 so we only stood in line for the wheel for about 5 minutes, if even that. It was a miracle.

We shared a car with a family of four and some rando guy who is probably some YouTuber based on his creepy camera but everyone was super chill and I was thankful for that because we were stuck in that thing for like 15 minutes and I had THE SWEATS big time because I forgot how much I hate these things.

The wheel went around for three whole revolutions and we didn’t fight during a single one! Henry has a theory that he’s the catalyst and I think that’s accurate.


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Henry texted and said that a G-Dragon song was playing on the swings and I was like, “LOL OK YEAH RIGHT SURE NICE TRY HANK” but he swore up and down that this was Truth. Conveniently, he couldn’t think of the name of the song, how it goes, or if it’s old or new.

I feel like Chooch and I hanged up on Henry at some point while toiling around on the pier and found some dumb reasons to be mad at him and to start so many fights. I wonder what we look like to passers-by.

While we were strolling about, I made some comment on how diverse and indie the music was that was playing over the loud speakers, for instance, The Decemberists was playing and I was briefly transported back to the early ’00s when I was a little music snob and loved all that pretentious Portland muzak. About one minute later, the song switched and I was all HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE because it was motherfucking “Coup d’etat” by G-DRAGON. Henry wasn’t lying to me!

Navy Pier is playing G-Dragon—Chicago rules.

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Henry said that this wasn’t even the song he heard earlier, so that’s at least two different G-Dragon songs that Navy Pier has on tap. Chicago, you are LEGIT.

From here, we decided to go to Lincoln Park. BUT THAT IS A POST FOR ANOTHER DAY.

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