Tuesday afternoon mailbag III

Welcome to Blog on the Run's third Tuesday afternoon mailbag. Here I'll answer questions from readers and non-readers about the week that was and anything else that might come across my mailbag.

Q: You usually love something (The Patio) or hate something (Lindey's Patio). But you seem indifferent on Chicago. Love or hate? - Donna, Beverly Hills

A: It's not a matter of love and hate with that city. I'm kind of disappointed I didn't spend more time there in my 20s. But I'm happy I don't live there. If I had to do it all over again, I'd spend two Saturdays per summer in the Second City going to Cubs games. I just loved it. There was a point when The Doctor wanted to go home to take a nap. I wasn't leaving. I'm a firm believer that if you're somewhere that's fun, you should never leave. That's why I don't like "starting nights at 185." If you know you're eventually leaving, there's little fun that can happen. I like to wear out my welcome. I just don't ever want to voluntarily leave somewhere to do something "later." I say "go on, go all out, go nowhere." That's sort of my motto when going out.

But I couldn't live there. I'm really happy in a city the size of Columbus. I think I could live in any city outside the five largest in the United States, and of course, Baltimore.

Fuck Baltimore.

Q: Feelings on unsigned comments? - Brenda, Minneapolis, Minn.

A: Not a huge deal. If the person can't sign their name to it, they just like sucking cock. I mean, they're not gay or anything but they enjoy sucking cock. There's a difference.

Q: I've heard of falling in love with a stripper, which I'm sure you have, but you fell in love with an electrician in Chicago? - Dylan, Tijuana

A: Yes. I did. I couldn't believe she was an electrician. Hottest one ever. She probably was 24 or 25 years old. I was standing at the Cubby Bear with my cousin Jamie when he said, "that chick keeps looking over at you." I walked over to her and talked to her one-on-one for about 30 minutes (I turned my blinders on) and then off-and-on for about an hour. The Godfather had a dance-off with her electrician/ballerina friend who kept taking her shoes off.

I don't fall in love easily. But this girl had it all. The entire package. (In case you didn't know what "had it all" meant.) Now I'd say there have been five girls in my life that I've actually had real strong feelings for, well, The Electrician makes No. 6. I can't imagine being more into another girl before 2009.

Q: The Godfather is going out of town this weekend. Are you sad? - Brandon, Boston on a summer internship

A: Yes. Very. But it comes at a good time. We've got a lot of time to spend together until Christmas. He's gone this weekend, but following that, we'll likely spend every weekend together until December. I'm sure he cringes at that thought.

We've got our last Friday Guyday of the season (pending McCampus' OK) on Friday, August 15. And then it's a wedding and 12 Buckeyes games, maybe a trip to Vegas, and fuckin' fun times until Christmas.

I guess I can just add him to The 1 (I USED TO KNOW) and McCampus as people I won't be hanging out with this weekend.

Q: Is The 1 dead? - Mrs. Walsh, California University

A: I haven't seen The 1 (I USED TO KNOW) since Saturday, June 28. I have sent him maybe two or three texts since then with nary a response. I know The Godfather sent him a text on Thursday but he didn't respond to that one either. He's apparently gone into the "mistertrendy-when-I-start-dating-someone-I-stop-hanging-out-with-friends" mode. It's sad and I hope we see him a few times in August before NFL season starts.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

Monday morning Nickelback

The quintessential drunk moment this summer came at Scores in Las Vegas. One of the prettiest girls I've ever met once worked at Scores in New York. As a coatcheck girl. So yes, this place had some talent NOT taking your coat.

It had been a lifelong goal of mine to get a lapdance to the song "Ayo Technology." Something special. 50 Cent. Justin. Well, it wasn't the best song I heard that evening. On the giant video board, while some chick from New York (not the TV show or the coatcheck girl) grinded up on me, Nickelback's "Rockstar" blared. I actually had this thought:

"I fucking love this song."

Yes, I was pretty wasted. Well, this weekend blew that away. I may have a drinking problem. It's actually an eating problem. Probably both. When you're throwing back a diet of 400 to 700 calories a day, you tend to get pretty wasted on 11 or 12 beers.

Saturday night's trip to the Patio was one of the all-time besties. While McCampus was busy adding friends on Facebook, I met up with a buddy from work and his brother. Now, this kid knew everyone at the bar. It was an odd thing at the Patio for myself, despite me going there twice a week. I usually run into four or five people that I know there on a Friday night. Six or seven on a Saturday. This kid knew at least 60 people there. We did shots, we talked to randoms, we stayed 'til close (odd) and I never saw the Truth. This was odd considering me and the Truth made plans earlier in the evening. But you see, My Boy Whit was down in the German Village and the Truth's meeting us at 9:30 p.m., 10:45 p.m., midnight! and later never came to fruition. Taking the spot of the Truth was every hot chick in Columbus.

I went home and didn't pee on anyone or anything. That's a good thing. Disappointed I didn't see the Truth or My Boy Whit at Patio but my summer roomie, Miss July probably isn't disappointed she didn't see My Boy Whit. I think I could pee on her for 40 nights in a row (Noah-the-arc style) and I'd still rank above My Boy Whit in Miss July's Favorite People Rankings.

I was up until 6:15 a.m. last night in one of the worst nights EVAR. The Godfather and I bitched yesterday that July never is going to end. Sad truth is that there are 22 work days in July 2008. To put it in perspective, November 2008 only has 18. It's a motherfucker. I've long argued July is the worst month of the year, ahead of February because it has 31 days, and this year, we're feeling the influence of those extra days.

Why was I up that late? Not a clue.

Props to McCampus for hosting Friday Guyday on Friday evening. Before heading to the Patio, I chilled at the 813 (McCampus' house) for about 3.5 hours, drinking my six beers and taking off. Despite pleas from everyone in attendance, NJAG (aka 'B') didn't make it over there. Walked back over there in the morning and mocked him for painting his house on a Saturday. After moving one box and eating tons of chips practically moving him into the place back in May 2007, I didn't feel like I had to help out with the painting. Like a Jackson Pollock. Would have loved to have made like Jackson Pollock on some ladies at the Patio on Saturday night. Sadly for this Patty, it was a no.

I loved mistertrendy's column on the Tour de Beers. It was the highlight of an otherwise LAME Sunday afternoon. I watched a movie, which I'll touch on later today.

Easy week at work and a fun weekend. I'm off Wednesday and Friday and heading to Chicago on Friday with The Godfather to visit GVM Chicago Bureau chief The Dr. I love that we're going to a Cubs game on Saturday and none of us really like the Cubs. But I've never been to Wrigley, so I am pumped.

- Compiled by Art McGregor

Freshing Friday morning

There's something refreshing about waking up feeling good on a Friday morning. It actually wouldn't be re-freshing because that would indicate I've done it before. This is just freshing. After pissing on my roommate this past Thursday night, yesterday went off without a hitch. No beers. Getting through yesterday mattered. I didn't do jack shit. Went for a run around Schiller Park and hope this time no one saw me wearing calf high socks, which I don't own. Saw Jazz Hands on Wednesday night at Club 185. She recommended I start wearing a shoe-string-hair-keeper-backer-thing-like-Schenkenberg when running.

Getting through yesterday mattered because I HATE July 24.

It's July 25 now and from what I've heard, there's a Friday Guyday in the mix for tonight at my buddy McCampus' house, Club 813.

Not sure what's happening later this evening. I might run into NJAG, who I'm considering a change in name. I might start calling her 'B.' And that's got nothing to do with effort.

I do want to see that movie "Step Brothers." That's all.

I've gone since about 1 p.m. on Monday, July June 23 without a soda pop. That's good. About this time last year, I was drinking about four Mountain Dews a day. Years prior I drank orange pop. I've probably spent years of my life drinking pop.

TGIF.

- Compiled by Art McGregor