Good Lord

You've probably heard about the miracle that happened in Chicago last week - namely, the appearance of the Virgin Mary in a waterstain under the Kennedy Expressway.

now squint and tilt your head to the left
Over the past week people have come from miles around to see the Holy Stain, light a candle, say a prayer. I myself took the Lord's name in vain quite a few times just trying to get through the throngs of pilgrams blocking the fricking exit ramp OF A MAJOR FRICKING HIGHWAY. But after I successfully avoided running over somebody's grandmother, it all seemed kind of touching. Like, how comforting to have the kind of faith that lets you see God in the smallest everyday details. So as I went about my week, I kept my eyes open. And God did not disappoint.

- Jesus by the Sears Tower -


- Jesus Drives the Train -


- Jesus Condiments -



See you in the handbasket, kiddies!

Rimshot!

Because I'm on my way to the cheeze-eatin-est bar in the city right now:

A jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."

A sandwich walks into a bar. The bartender says, "Sorry we don't serve food in here."

A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

Ba-dum-bum!

In Case of Fire

When one is on one's way home from work and one's el train catches fire, under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should one freak the fuck out and try to pry open the door, thus letting billowing clouds of noxious smoke enter the car and choke one's sane, instruction-obeying fellow commuters. Otherwise, one might find one's ass getting thoroughly kicked. Just FYI, you stupid fucking Trixie.

Things To Do In Lieu of Smoke Breaks

› Pick at split ends
› Pick fight on Stereogum comments section
› Pick nose
› Hum Kelly Clarkson song
› Sniff watermelon-scented candle obsessively
› Binge drink
› Write fan letter to Michael Biehn

I love you, Cpl. Hicks
› Fixate on new ulcer
› Vandalize boss's office with Wite-Out® and Post-its®
› IM all Hot Married Boyfriends
› Choose name for Britney's baby (Kootie?)
› Mad Libs
› Work up nerve to take Ashlee Simpson picture to punk rock hairstylist
› Make helmet for cat

› Plot revenge
› Geek out over upcoming Trashcan Sinatras show
› Start rumor about sister
› Write terrible headline
› Blame terrible headline on new ulcer
› Cry
› Prank call Jane Pratt
› Shop for subversive baby clothes for new niece
› Buy shoes instead
› Falsify work timesheets
› Look for new job
› Pirate Ben Folds album
› Sign ex-boyfriend up for Christian spam
› Call self just to hear new ringtone
› Moisturize
› Smoke other stuff

Wrong Number

Yesterday I was scanning groceries in the self-checkout lane at Jewel when my cell rang. Since I lost the battery cover somewhere on Wabansia Saturday night, I now have to actually hold the battery in to have power. While ringing up a bajillion groceries. And having this retarded conversation.

RANDOM GUY: Hi, is this Kari?
TEQUILA RED: Yeah. Who's this?
RANDOM GUY: My name's Brad. You don't know me.
TEQUILA RED: Oh.
RANDOM GUY: I'm calling because my buddy Kurt has your number in his cell phone. From last night?
TEQUILA RED: Huh. I don't remember giving anyone my number last night.
RANDOM GUY: Yeah, we're not sure who you are either.
TEQUILA RED: Always a good sign.
RANDOM GUY: Did we meet you at the Artful Dodger?
TEQUILA RED: Maybe. I was there.
RANDOM GUY: Were you wearing pink shoes?
TEQUILA RED: No.
RANDOM GUY: No?
TEQUILA RED: No. My shoes were not pink.
RANDOM GUY: You sure?
TEQUILA RED: Positive.
RANDOM GUY: Then I have no idea who you are.
TEQUILA RED: Nice. And ditto.
RANDOM GUY: I bet this is the weirdest conversation you've had today.
TEQUILA RED: So far.
RANDOM GUY#2 DONKEY-LAUGHS IN BACKGROUND
TEQUILA RED: Wait, is that your friend?
RANDOM GUY: Yeah.
TEQUILA RED: And he's the one I gave my number to.
RANDOM GUY: Yes.
TEQUILA RED: But you're the one calling me.
RANDOM GUY: Right.
TEQUILA RED: You guys are idiots. I can't believe I gave either of you my number.
RANDOM GUY: I know, you're the Asian girl!
TEQUILA RED: No.
RANDOM GUY: The Asian girl with pink shoes?
TEQUILA RED: Don't ever call here again.

Chicagopalooza

The Good News
The first draft of the line-up (fresh off the presses) doesn't entirely suck:

Ambulance LTD, The Arcade Fire, Billy Idol, The Black Keys, Blonde Redhead, Blue Merle, The Bravery, Cake, Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Changes, The Dandy Warhols, Dashboard Confessional, Death Cab for Cutie, DeSoL, Dinosaur Jr., Digable Planets, G. Love & Special Sauce, Kaiser Chiefs, Kasabian, The Killers, Liz Phair, Los Amigos Invisibles, Louis XIV, M83, Pixies, The Redwalls, Tegan and Sara, The Walkmen, The Warlocks, Weezer, Widespread Panic, World Leader Pretend, Z-Trip

The Not So Good News
No Beck. And that stupid $35 two-day pass sold out in like a nanosecond; now the thing costs friggin $85. Damn, that's like three extra hours of streetwalking tonight. Boo.

The Hooker Boots & Fishnets Playlist
"Hey" - Pixies
"I Predict a Riot" - Kaiser Chiefs
"Wake Up" - The Arcade Fire
"In Particular" - Blonde Redhead
"Dope Nose (live)" - Weeeeeeeeezer!
Plus, listen to the entire album from local lads The Redwalls on their website, no special plug-ins required. Good stuff, that - I give it four martinis up.
And I do mean up.

Too Little/Late

I have zero patience. My attention span could fit on the head of a pin. At times, this can be a bit of a drawback (work and parenting come to mind). For the most part, though, my devotion to instant gratification is easily accommodated. Fast food, direct deposit, alcohol, the internets - all work in my favor. But unfortunately, nobody sent menfolk the memo. First it was Train Boyfriend; now it's this. Listen, dude. You like me. That's wonderful. I like you also. But if it takes you FOUR FRIGGING MONTHS to get around to asking me out, and then you kind of half-ass it, this does not bode well. I mean, the polar ice caps will have melted by the time we get around to the actual kissing part, and really, who has that kind of time. I guess what I'm saying is, two months ago? Yes. Two weeks ago? Maybe. Right now? Not so much. You're pretty but I'm already bored.

500 Feet, Missy

See also: Leave Me Alone, Part I.

Attagirl

After nine whole minutes of pushing (wtf?), my sister Amy gave birth to a healthy baby girl early Tuesday morning. We're still waiting on pictures of Micaela Bonnie but I hear she's beautiful. Did I mention that the entire birthing process took less than two hours? Good thing I'm not the bitter type.


20 and 53 hours of labor, respectively

♥ Nothing says "congratulations" like a little Stevie Wonder. ♥

* * * * * * *
Mambo Tango
My current obsession: Che Guevara. Because have you seen The Motorcycle Diaries yet? Ay, what a movie. I've watched it three times since Friday and I love him a little more with each viewing. I freely admit that I only know the broad strokes of his life - communist, revolutionary, the hottness of Gael García Bernal - so I'm picking up his biography at the liberry today. Also, someone please buy me this shirt so I can have Che on my chesteses, and then let's go see Dot the I. Bueno.


* * * * * * *
The More Things Stay the Same
Thank goodness you can count on the Catholic Church to carry on the long-standing tradition of complete inflexibility. Way to elect the most conservative Pope possible, dudes. Yeah, I know, a younger more moderate Pope might have tried something crazy, like bringing alienated Catholics back into the fold, relaxing the Church's stance on birth control, denouncing bigotry, or - gasp! - allowing women in the priesthood. But, hey, here's hoping (poping?) PapaRatzie surprises us all.


The election of Cardinal Ratzinger met with particular disapproval among the second grade set, who deemed him "totally scary looking" and then cried.

* * * * * * *
M is for Mmm-Mmm Good
Tonight I'm going with Wendi and one of our Protest Pals to see M. Ward at the Abbey. No, Fredbeck, you aren't invited, and yes, I'm still mad at you for ditching me on Saturday. Good thing I had a fantazmo time with my real friends, the people I sometimes run into at Decibully concerts (Hi Todd!). Plus, the lead singer B.J. sang every song directly to me, which EEEEEEEE! Have a wonderful time in Europe, boys! Mwah!

Oh, and forget what I said before - their new disk does indeed rockit. Buy it here and you'll get a free Polyvinyl compilation CD featuring tasty aural treats by Ida, Of Montreal, matt pond PA, Owen, Saturday Looks Good To Me and other scrumptious bands. Free is good. I love free.

4/20 Mix for Dopers and Popers
M. Ward - "Helicopter"
"Sunday Bell" - Audible Sky Signal
Saturday Looks Good To Me - "The Goods"
Owen - "The Girl's Distracted"

One Exits, One Enters

We're getting ready to go to Grandma's funeral and my sister seems to be in labor.

Today should be interesting.

CAUTION: Bummer Ahead

Worst Week Ever
Last night Wendi said, "You know, if you can get through this week without smoking you can do anything." Because in the past week: hospital, hospice, a funeral for a baby, and now another funeral - after a long battle with heart disease, my grandmother passed away yesterday.

Maybe I shouldn't make fun of the Pope anymore.

Also Sad
I still haven't paid my stupid taxes yet.

* * * * * * *
I don't have to go home again until Sunday, which leaves Friday and Saturday for heavy drinking and brainless good times. Luckily, I have a lot to choose from:

Saturday Rocks in Shee-Ka-Go
The Layaways @ Gunther Murphy's
Local band with a lovely, dreamy sound that gives me the happy. This early afternoon show is part of International Pop Overthrow and, at $6, a killer bargain. Download the tasty track "Silence" right this second.

Decibully & Owen @ Schubas
I've posted Decibully here a bazillion times and if you haven't downloaded "Tables Turn" you have no one to blame but yourself. Also, we totally hate that outfit. Go change. New Decibully has me on the fence - this song is just hokay - but every bit of the City of Festivals album is brilliant. My boyfriend Mike Kinsella, aka Owen, opens for added scrumptiousness. Grab "In the Morning Before Work" and pretend he wrote it because he loves you.
[UPDATE: This show was brilliant. FREDBECK.]

Andrew Bird @ Metro
Another local boy done good. The hipster kids are all up on his jock at the moment, and for good reason: the stuff he's doing now is awesomeness, way better than that Squirrel Nut Zippers retro-esque swing crap back in the day. "A Nervous Tic" is from the new album, "Action/Adventure" is not, but you will like it anyway.

Out Hud @ The Empty Bottle
Adorable, dancey music with some seriously great song titles: "Dad, There's a Little Phrase Called Too Much Information," "The L Train is a Swell Train and I Don't Want to Hear You Indies Complain," and "Hair Dude, You're Stepping On My Mystique" to name but a few. The instrumental tracks are fine and dandy, but I especially heart the songs with vocals. Try "How Long."

Tonight Ain't Half Bad Neither
Dirty Found party at the Hideout. You know you love yourself some Found Magazine, and who doesn't want to see other people's porn? $10 buys admission, a copy of the mag and loads of other horndog activities. Melmar, this has your name written all over it. And not just on the bathroom wall either. Ba dum BUM. Call me !

That One Guy is in Town This Weekend
Man, I almost hope he is stupid enough to call me.

The French are Le Nuts
Laugh at this video because, come on, that's funny.

Spawn of Brother

[Edited to keep Tequila Red in the family, with full Auntie baby-holding privileges.]
B and Nicole's first ultrasound didn't reveal the sex of the baby, but it did give us a glimpse of what is obviously the cutest little flesh-eating monster sweetie pie in the whole family. I couldn't be prouder.

Artist's rendering of Future Cutest Baby in World.

Bump N' Grind

My favorite part of this ad is where it says "sexy women over the age of 18 yrs old." Ha ha ha ha! That's awesome.

Spawn of Tequila

My son hates getting up in the morning. I turn on the lights to let him know it's time to rise and shine, but for some reason it doesn't seem to be working.


Dylan goes after the elusive 41st wink
* * * * * *
Olivia's little best friend made this card for her:









It should be mentioned that Olivia's best friend is a 7 year old girl and not Sir Ben Kingsley or French.

Our Father Art Not Amused

DAD: You need to take that picture of the Pope off your website.
TEQUILA RED: What? Why?
DAD: Do you you have any idea offensive it is?
TEQUILA RED: Offensive? But it says he's in heaven!
DAD: Yeah, but you have him making that face.
TEQUILA RED: I didn't take the picture, Dad.
DAD: Hey, I know about the Photoshop.
TEQUILA RED: But-
DAD: You're probably offending a lot of people.
TEQUILA RED: Well, nobody's making them read it.
DAD: It's called "respect," missy.
TEQUILA RED: Why do you even care? Did you secretly turn Catholic?
DAD: And take down all that stuff about work too. The last thing we need is for you to get fired.
TEQUILA RED: Oh my god.
DAD: Exactly.

My New Boyfriend

I kind of broke up with Ben Gibbard after his pretentious all-my-old-fans-can-go-suck-on-it interview in Rolling Stone. [We're recording in an abandoned barn! We dress up like knights! Don't you just love how quirky and original we are?!] So there's in an opening in the Department of Famous Boyfriends, the Faces of Which I'd Like To Lick. Fortunately, I found someone to fill the void. On CL, natch.

HULK JUST WANT TO BE LOVED - 20
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: anon-68028481@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-04-11, 10:53PM CDT

Hulk is tender lover, Hulk will hold lady-friend's hand and hold open doors. Hulk like to cuddle and eat beef. Hulk always bring lady-friend flowers. Hulk tried posting before, but mean CLers just make fun of Hulk, make Hulk sad. Hulk just want to be loved.

He's got a great blog too - definitely check it out! I found the word search especially enjoyable. (It was a little hard, though.) Aw, look how cute our kids would be:


Anyway, at least he's better than this lady's boyfriend. Chode.

Laugh Til You Cry

Everyone deals with grief in their own way. In my family, you make jokes. You laugh at inappropriate times and in inappropriate places, like oncology wards. You blow up rubber gloves and pretend they're chickens and walk them around the hospital room and make them tell off-color jokes to your children. You share stories about your funny little dog or your drunken birthday party. You lie on your sickbed and crack wise with the family gathered around you to say goodbye, because you're the toughest old broad who ever walked the planet and don't anybody forget it.

The crying comes after, in the hallway or the elevator or the car. You cling to each other and the tears fall. Just for a minute - just long enough. In a few seconds, someone will make a smartass remark and everyone will wipe their eyes and laugh a little and begin to pull away, start going back to their regularly scheduled lives. You'll wipe your nose with your sleeve and thank your lucky stars that, of all the people in the world, you somehow got thrown in with these lunatics. You linger in misty sentimentality for another second or two, and then some sadist suggests a quick dinner at Perkins, where your grilled cheese fails to have actual cheese on it, the waitress goes AWOL, and you find yourself feeling a little better about everything by the time the check arrives.

I love you, family.
* * * * * *
In other developments:
Sugar and Wendi Break Ira Glass


Tequila Red Still Smoke-Free, Distracting Self With Hair Dye

Newest shade: Ronald #43. Fiesty!

Phrase "Feather In Your Cap" Taken Wrong


Mad Bomber Kind Of Hot

Dating is for Dummies

I used to be really good at dating. Like quit-your-job-write-a-book-and-hold-seminars good. Good. For one thing, I was fearless. I didn't mind asking men out, even total strangers. Once I took my cat to the vet and the technician was this beautiful Puerto Rican man with a labret piercing and the world's longest eyelashes. The minute I got home, I called the vet's office back and asked him out. That, my friends, was an excellent date.

When I was Dating Girl, I always had a few men in rotation too. Mine was an informal three date policy. No, not that one - a Three Dates and You're Out Policy. Three dates then move along, thanksforplaying, we have some great door prizes. That was about right, because inevitably one of us would lose interest or meet someone I liked better or discover some inexcusable dental habit or find Les Mis in his CD collection, and that would spell the end of it anyway. I had no problems breaking things off back then. There was none of this wishy-washy John Dynamite bullshit. It was, "You did the freaking HEAD PUSH on our SECOND DATE, you Neanderthal. Don't ever call me again." Or, "I swear to god, I can't listen to that 'I quit my glamorous job as a grocery store manager to follow my dream' speech one more time. Hit the bricks, buster." Once it was, "Honey, I think you need to face some facts about yourself. Oh, and our waiter last night asked me to give you his number. Good luck!" Quick, painless, unequivocal.

I was also much more open-minded, I think. Accountants, Actors, Bartenders, Best Friends, Boys with Lesbian Girlfriends, Bouncers, Chileans, Co-Workers, DJs, Dorks, Editors, Engineers, Former High School Crushes, Geeks, Greeks, Hipsters, Hot Asians, L Riders, Models, Mohawks, Musicians, Nineteen Year Old Brazilians, Painters, Poets, Polish Photographers, Prison Guards, Punks, Rich Boys, Someone's Older Brother, Someone's Younger Brother, Southern Gentlemen, Southside Irish Guys, Swarthy Dudes, Tall Dudes, the Unemployed - if you were hot and peripherally interesting, you got a date.

Then I met That One Guy and was sucked into his swirling vortex of self-absorption and emotional retardedness. AKA, "a taste of your own medicine." Suddenly it was no fun going out with lots of different people, mostly because I knew he was also out with lots of different people, which I pretended was hunky-dory but seethed about privately. After a year and a half of this garbage something marvelous happened: he moved far, far away and we broke up forever. Yay! Now I could finally get back to the fun part of dating, not Dating So I'm Not Sitting At Home While He's Out Banging Some Random Ho, God What A Jackass. Fun dating! Remember that?

Except so far it's kind of blown. Look at the John Dynamite fiasco. And the babbling embarrassment I made of myself in front of Train Boyfriend. The Nerve thing didn't work out so great either. I mean, the couple of dates I actually went on were good, but I had to take my profile down after like three days. I just did not have the energy to wade through the responses and sort the chimps from the champs. Plus, the thought of going on all those dates made my head hurt.

I guess I'm getting pickier. Or maybe I'm just less willing to waste my time on 20 year olds sporting homemade tattoos of pigeons. Maybe there's something to be said for being selective - it's a bit more boring, true, but it really frees up your Thursday nights for things like Lucille Ball movies, leftover wine and listening to your BF bitch about those a-holes she works for. And isn't that what really matters?

Holy Rollin'

NEWSFLASH: Pope Now In Heaven, Watching Over Us

* * * * * * *
Ignore DeRogatis
More than a slogan, it's a way of life!
Listen up, kids. The people behind the excellent Austin City Limits Music Fest are putting together Chicagopalooza. So how bad can it be, Roggie, you boring old fart? I say you can't go wrong with the $35 two-day pass now on presale. I'm getting mine fer sher.

The Stench of Desperation
Find out why 29 Thoughts at Nerve is the bestest entertainment column anywhere evs.

Clap On
I had bizzaro dreams last night where this lampshade came to life and stampeded all over my living room. It was scary, and I totally want to buy it now.

Our Next Theme Party
Come as a Mode of Transportation! Or, Things With Rotors.

(thanks for the pic Elle)

In Chicago Thurs, Fri & Sat
♥ The Decemberists - Metro, tonight, $15 - sold out?
♥ The Gore Gore Girls - Empty Bottle, tonight, $8
♥ Ash - Metro, Friday, $15
♥ Brendan Benson - The Abbey, Friday, $15
♥ Ambulance LTD - Double Door, Saturday, $10
♥ Magnolia Electric Co. - Schubas, Saturday, $10

Dilemma
What should I do tonight?
1. boring charity thing Wendi roped me into
2. scalp Decemberist tix and stalk my boyfriend Colin Meloy
3. Sin City
4. laundry
C'mon, boss me!

Smell Ya Later, Smoky

Something else happened at the Birthday Party of Ill-Advised Backbends and Secret Blabbing last Saturday night:

I quit.

Yes, yes, I know. You've all heard that one before. But this time it's different. I'm ready. No patches, no gum, no Margot Tenenbaum inhalers, no whining, no moping, no loitering outside trying to get a secondhand thrill, no drama, no "aw, all the other smokers get to smoke, no fair!" no "just one puff." Just ... no. I'm done. I quit, and I'm clinging to this quit like Catholics clinging to a cold, dead Pope. I'm holding onto it like Paris deathgrips her new Blackberry, protecting it like it's a feeding tube and I'm schtarving. This is the quit that sticks, people, and all you doubters can get bent. Come on, Pete, let's bounce. I need to hit the Jewel for some Juicy Fruit.


Consider yourself dumped, cowboy.

Venus in Cancer - "Amusement Parks on Fire"
"My Lighter and Strings" - Decibully
"It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Deathwish" - My Chemical Romance

UPDATE:

Train Boyfriend Still Hot, Happy to See Me
Reunion Tour Not Out of the Question

Making A List, Checking It Twice

There's this book on Amazon called 30 Things Everyone Should Know How to Do Before Turning 30. Of the 30 things, I knew 25 by Saturday's cutoff. Not bad.

The thing is... damn, what a boring freakin' list. I mean, "wrap presents"? If you're checking off life experiences, shouldn't you maybe shoot a little higher? I think yes. So I present

Tequila Red's 30 Before Thirty (Including Several You'll Probably Never Care To Repeat):
1. drive a tractor
2 - 4. inspire a painting, a poem & a song
5. walk out of a terrible movie
6. be on the news
7. quit smoking, for real (fingers crossed)
8. learn to accept compliments
9. learn accept criticism
10. drive the Autobahn
11. get and get rid of an std
12. visit a concentration camp
13. read Ayn Rand
14. see a full lunar eclipse
15. make out with someone famous
16. carry the Olympic torch
17. stay at the office all night
18. be in a movie
19. join the Army
20. streak
21. catch a foul ball - or just be the one to come up with it
22. kiss a stranger
23. draw up a living will
24. order an Old Fashioned
25. march in protest
26. have a one night stand
27. tell the truth when you should have lied
28. know a poem by heart
29. throw a drink in someone's face
30. tell your friends you love them

Next Up: Modern Drunkard Magazine's "40 Things Every Drunkard Must Do Before He Dies". I'm 13-for-40. Warm up my barstool, babies. I'll be there in an hour.

Getting It Done
"Theory of Achievement" - Idlewild
Q & Not U - "Wonderful People"
"Damn Good Times" - They Might Be Giants
"Strange" - Built to Spill
Sea Ray -"Revelry"

Post Party

I Love the DMV

Got my brand new "Look at me, I'm 30!" driver's license this morning and everyone at the Elston DMV was miraculously a) pleasant, and b) quick. My picture is totally dorked out though. Natch.
* * * * * * *
The Date
Awkward conversation followed a scrumdelicious vegetarian dinner last night at the Green Zebra. You've all had the there-ain't-gonna-be-no-third-date talk, right? It goes something like this:

"So, I had fun tonight."
"Me too."
"This isn't really working, is it?"
"Not so much."
"I think you're great though."
"I think you're great."
"It's just not..."
"Yeah, I know."
"We should totally be friends."
"Sounds good."
"I'll email you."
"Laters."

He does get major props for being a total sweetheart in a situtation where most guys would have been full-on dicks.
J - you're good people.
* * * * * * *
A Tiny Bit Screwed
Dear Mark,
Wendi and I had two rounds of drinks last night. You accidentally charged us for three, and we have the credit card slip to prove it. I'll let you think of a way to make it up to me.
xo,
Tequila Red
* * * * * * *
Maybe you haven't heard yet, but
MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW!
Birthday Weekend kicks off tonight with a badass loft party where my friends' band is playing. Then tomorrow is the Retro Flashback Birfday Party, which I may have mentioned once or twice before. People are coming in from out of state, sneaking out of weddings, and abandoning small children to attend. Some say party of the year.

On Sunday, I plan to flop down dramatically on various pieces of furniture, moan about the evils of whiskey, and watch other people clean.