wow, I really don't have much news to report.

I went out Friday night with Megan and April and it was pretty damned enjoyable, but not as balls out as some of our other nights can get. we started out at Liar's Club, which was kind of populated with lame-Os but still enjoyable, especially since we got seats at the bar after a spell. after our 3rd beers or so, a bartender gave us each free shots, without scrutible cause or explanation, so that was enjoyable. then she gave us each passes to get in free next time we came (again, unexplained) and we were excited. but then we had to leave because it was closing time. since I have only a few more weeks in Chicago, we decided to make it a long night and we headed up to Carol's. after a half beer there I was drunkity-drunk and then Megan started crying about me leaving and the possibility that April might move to New York in a year and then some weird guys came over to talk to us and to try to lure us to their apartment using Seagram's Seven as bait. little did they know that all we were seeking was a burrito at the Mexican joint a few doors down and some sweet, sweet sleep. I got home around 5am.

at 9:30am my telephone rang and I let it ring because who the aitch calls at 9:30am on a Saturday? assholes, that's who. then I realized it could be the superintendant for my building calling to say that he'd be showing the apartment to prospective new tenants. I lifted my smelly, groggy head off the pillow and then sat up so I could stumble into the living room to play the message the caller had left. sure enough it was the super. through his heavy, Eastern European accent I deduced that he indeed was coming to show the apartment, but it was pure gobledygook after that announcement. no distinctive time for the showing was given. so I lurched towards April's bedroom and knocked, woke her up and instructed, "we'd better get up now." bear in mind this is after only 4 1/2 hours of sleep after heaving drinking of alcohol and smoking of cigarettes.

at 11:15, the super came with the prospective tenants. the girls who were looking at the place spoke not a word to us, but the super, seeing I was still in my pajamas, said, "sorry to come so early, is not my fault, is theirs, heh-heh!" upon entry. I was prepared to give a tactful reply to any questions about noise coming from the bar downstairs, but the foolish girls didn't even bother to ask. maybe it was because they were repelled by the level of filth on our kitchen floor (I was ashamed by the dirt, but not motivated enough to mop it until yesterday). or perhaps they didn't like the lingering odor of cigarettes and beer breath. who knows? anyway, they were all gone by 11:30, and I called after them under my breath in singsong, "you're gonna regret it!!!"

after that April and I ate some delivered lunch and then I went to watch that flugtag thing at Monroe Harbor with Jim and Stephen. it was a good time. and then after I went home I collapsed on the couch, fatigued from lack of sleep and from sun exposure. that was the extent of my Saturday night and my Sunday, pretty much. I felt like crap yesterday despite having not ingested any stimulants or depressants.

I have resolved not to pay rent this month. fuck my landlords. if they won't willingly take my last month's rent out of my security deposit, I will force them to do so. they won't be able to evict me in less than three weeks' time, and they won't be able to find any damages to deduct from the rest of my deposit, so I will win no matter what. and I will be able to spend extravagantly on booze and food for the next 19 days.

so I guess I did have a bit of news to report after all. hmmm.