hard to believe.

so i got a job. this fact has prevented me from posting a blog for a while. no more luxurious lifestyle of doing whatever the hell i want and really only completing tasks that are of interest to me. when i moved to chicago i thought to myself, "it'd be fucking great if i got a job at the chicago reader." well guess what...i lucked my way into just that. i'm the new music listings editor, and i have an office. imagine that. the job is intensely vicious, and i work tons (45 hours in 4 days...no joke), but i like it. i'll like it even more once i can do it without thinking. i have 5,000 tasks to accomplish daily, and considering my last job consisted of refreshing espn.com every five minutes and looking at colors with glazed-over eyes all day, i'd say it's a bit of a change. however, everyone i work with is cool as hell, i get to work downtown, which makes me feel oh so professional, and i get free shit. not too bad. i'm pretty proud of myself, and it only took three weeks.

working with deadlines is a whole different kind of beast. when i wrote for citybeat, i had deadlines and shit, but i wasn't nearly as involved with the operation of the paper like i am at the reader. i actually feel like if i fell apart, the paper would be fucked, which frightens me because i tend to crack under pressure...a sad fact of my life that i have to grips with. i'll be good though. well, at least i keep mumbling that to myself as i get a barrage of emails at work that make my head want to explode.

check the paper out here

it's the citybeat of chicago, only bigger and way way better.

now that i got that out of my system, lets discuss the most fucked up news of the year thus far. michael christopher coates is getting married on saturday. yikes! i was in town for the bachelor party last weekend, which russ and i organized, and i'd have to say that we did a pretty good job. it exceeded expectations of drunken rowdiness, culminating with coates being obliterated (cigarette in mouth), shirtless, in a wheelchair. i can't even begin to express the amount of joy that night gave me. almost all of my best friends (minus justin) gathering in one place and watching coates get straight hammered. fucking glorious. i'll spare you all of the details because i'm going to post some pictures on here that read like a beautiful, seamless narrative.

so, i'm the best man and have to make a toast/speech. those of you who know me well know that i could be all loud and talk forever, but i think i'm going to keep it simple. no one wants to hear me blabber on and tell inside jokes for a half an hour. i'll spare the world. the whole thing is so strange though because i've known coates for over a decade and he's the first of the original "click" that is getting married. fucked up. i don't think i could've ever imagined that a man who stripped down naked and pissed on the capital building in charleston, west virginia would be getting married. again...fucked up. somewhere along the line, coates got sophisticated and grown up. we're all very proud of him, and we're quietly anticipating his inevitable purchase of a house so that he can have another firesale and all of us can get nice, expensive shit for practically nothing. that's what it's really all about right? absolutely.

anyway...i won't stall any longer. here are some of the choice pictures from the drunken escapade that was coates' bachelor party.



so content.



they gave us free shots. gross.



penick was on fire that night. too funny.



coates said i felt super light. that made me happy because i'm concerned with my looks.



yep. that's his underwear.



i asked him to smoke and drink at the same time. it really didn't take much convincing either.



you guessed it. ending the night in a wheelchair. this one's my favorite...hands down.