Prairie Landing
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Some random things about Chicago
1. Independence Day is celebrated on July 3. That's when you go to BBQs and watch fireworks. The weirdest thing about it is that nobody thinks it's weird. Also that this is strictly a city thing. It kinda makes sense, though -- like taking off the day after your birthday. (Thanks to Catherine for pointing this out.)
2. Bar and restaurant bathrooms are clean. Not immaculate or anything, but I've never seen the puddles I've always assumed were inherent to public facilities. Except once at O'Hare, and I bet that was some chick from the East Coast. Going out in Charlotte the other weekend was a shock to my system.
3. "Pop" and brats. I don't think I knew what a brat was before. I certainly haven't eaten one. But there are like 10 varieties in the grocery store and no chorizo. (And don't even think about asking for chourice.)
4. When I say "excuse me" to get by someone, the other person always says "sorry." Does this happen everywhere and I just didn't notice it until recently? I always feel like telling them not to apologize but that's just stupid. I certainly don't say sorry when someone wants to get by. I just get out of the way. Maybe I nod or say "mm-hm" or something, I guess.
5. Spoon did not play the song "Chicago At Night" at their Chicago show.
I would also like to give a special plug to the Militant Nudist's Journal today. Her post from yesterday is completely insane.
2. Bar and restaurant bathrooms are clean. Not immaculate or anything, but I've never seen the puddles I've always assumed were inherent to public facilities. Except once at O'Hare, and I bet that was some chick from the East Coast. Going out in Charlotte the other weekend was a shock to my system.
3. "Pop" and brats. I don't think I knew what a brat was before. I certainly haven't eaten one. But there are like 10 varieties in the grocery store and no chorizo. (And don't even think about asking for chourice.)
4. When I say "excuse me" to get by someone, the other person always says "sorry." Does this happen everywhere and I just didn't notice it until recently? I always feel like telling them not to apologize but that's just stupid. I certainly don't say sorry when someone wants to get by. I just get out of the way. Maybe I nod or say "mm-hm" or something, I guess.
5. Spoon did not play the song "Chicago At Night" at their Chicago show.
I would also like to give a special plug to the Militant Nudist's Journal today. Her post from yesterday is completely insane.
Saturday, June 26, 2004
I stand corrected. Apparently some of those Congress members knew exactly what the "peace ceremony" was about. Plus, reading all the details, it was more disturbing and less naively kooky than I thought, and one of Illinois's own Reps was a ringleader.
Friday, June 25, 2004
Somebody's gonna get smacked for this
The Washington Times invited some members of Congress to a dinner where they would be recognized with a Peace Award. Quite a few accepted. Apparently none of them realized that the paper's publisher is Rev. Moon (as in the Moonies), who at the dinner praised their efforts, proclaimed himself the Messiah, and took credit for Hitler and Stalin's having been reborn as new people.
Heh heh heh.
The Washington Post's coverage
Times coverage
In Baltimore someone would go around with a black magic marker and write "MOONIE PAPER" on all the Times's honor boxes (to use the industry term for a newspaper box).
Heh heh heh.
The Washington Post's coverage
Times coverage
In Baltimore someone would go around with a black magic marker and write "MOONIE PAPER" on all the Times's honor boxes (to use the industry term for a newspaper box).
Spring is just around the corner!
Yesterday afternoon I went out to take care of the kitties and it was 54 degrees outside. Today it might break 70. I think all those people who complained about Chicago's hot summers were big-time wusses. And I DARE the weather to prove me wrong.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
I Am the Caretaker
Colliculus's entire department went to a conference this weekend, leaving me with 3 cats (in 3 places) and no car. Then on Saturday, the cats' owners all come home. And then Colliculus's entire old department is crashing at our house!
Meanwhile, his absence means it's time for a long-due soy binge. I'm going out to an African restaurant Friday, woo-hoo!
Do you know, almost every night when I watch the Simpsons, there's a tornado, storm, or flood warning? Tonight the warning was for 3-inch hailstones and 80 mph winds. It never seems to be as bad as they say, though. I bet the people in charge of that never heard the story of the boy who cried wolf.
Meanwhile, his absence means it's time for a long-due soy binge. I'm going out to an African restaurant Friday, woo-hoo!
Do you know, almost every night when I watch the Simpsons, there's a tornado, storm, or flood warning? Tonight the warning was for 3-inch hailstones and 80 mph winds. It never seems to be as bad as they say, though. I bet the people in charge of that never heard the story of the boy who cried wolf.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Seven-of-Nine in the Evil Republican Sex Clubs
Today's humongous story is that Jack Ryan, Republican candidate for U.S. Senator, lost his battle to keep his divorce proceedings sealed. It turns out that his ex-wife, Jeri Ryan, says she lost interest in him because he made her go to a bunch of sex clubs and tried to get her to have sex in public. Oh, and because she realized she was in love with another man. The Trib has like 10 reporters on this important political story, which means their tabloid competitor's probably got twice as many.
I love it when this shit happens to Republicans. Although I do have a lot of trouble imagining that the people who are offended by this out in Kankakee or wherever are going to vote Democratic instead.
I love it when this shit happens to Republicans. Although I do have a lot of trouble imagining that the people who are offended by this out in Kankakee or wherever are going to vote Democratic instead.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Ianqui posted something asking why bars have to be so loud you can't talk to the people you came with, let alone hit on strangers. I too desperately want to know the answer to this. On Saturday we went to a bar and sat outside in the 90-degree mugginess expressly to avoid the booming stereo. So what do they do but bring out a 3-foot-high speaker and aim it directly at us? Everybody outside was just hanging out, nobody danced, and anyway the music was plenty loud even before they brought the speaker out.
I find this very mysterious, like many other behaviors of seemingly sane people who are seemingly a lot like me.
We were in Charlotte for a family wedding. The bride and groom both went to N.C. State. When everyone in the wedding party came out and was "announced" at the reception, they all wore rubber animal noses. The bride and groom finally emerged with wolf noses and a grand Wolfpack cheer arose. There also was a lot of country music which seemed to have some kind of State or fraternity connection. It was prefaced by James Taylor's "Goin' to Carolina (In My Mind)," which they made us sing at my freshman orientation. I kept quiet about that, while pondering another mystery of mainstream thought, school spirit.
It was a nice wedding and we had lots of fun, both with the family and my friend TLC who we stayed with part of the time. But I must say I'm glad I don't live in Charlotte, where there are about 3 non-redneck bars and you have to drive everywhere.
I find this very mysterious, like many other behaviors of seemingly sane people who are seemingly a lot like me.
We were in Charlotte for a family wedding. The bride and groom both went to N.C. State. When everyone in the wedding party came out and was "announced" at the reception, they all wore rubber animal noses. The bride and groom finally emerged with wolf noses and a grand Wolfpack cheer arose. There also was a lot of country music which seemed to have some kind of State or fraternity connection. It was prefaced by James Taylor's "Goin' to Carolina (In My Mind)," which they made us sing at my freshman orientation. I kept quiet about that, while pondering another mystery of mainstream thought, school spirit.
It was a nice wedding and we had lots of fun, both with the family and my friend TLC who we stayed with part of the time. But I must say I'm glad I don't live in Charlotte, where there are about 3 non-redneck bars and you have to drive everywhere.
Friday, June 18, 2004
The job interview update, since Heather so kindly asked
That actually went pretty well the other day. I took the bus downtown and on the way two things happened. First, I realized that I was more nervous about the sudden client lunch than I was about the interview. With that realization, everything was fine. The lunch really was no big deal. And if the interview was going to be less stressful than that, then I had no worries.
The second thing that happened was my client called to tell me where he was and he said, "You're on a what?" I guess the bus is perceived as kind of ghetto, but I didn't care in B-more so I sure as hell don't care here. I've never seen anyone urinate in a Chicago bus. Nor have I been exhorted to join AA, asked by all my fellow riders what I thought of Hillary vs. Giuliani, or subjected to a comparison of notes about how many times people had been shot and what media they had been featured in each time. ("The first time, I was on Channel 2 and 13 but the second time it was just 2 and the paper did a little thing. And I don't know nobody watches Channel 2.")
But I digress. The job interview was 60 stories up, overlooking the lake, and I met with 4 people. I think there was a schedule, but nobody knew what it was, so it ended up lasting 3 hours. I liked all the people and the work sounds good, and they said they liked me. The only doubts I have are about the pay and hours and especially, whether I'll go crazy working on two pharma clients as opposed to mixing up physical therapy, ice skating, dog racing legislation, and campus foodservice all in one day, which is the kind of thing I'm used to. I'm supposed to talk to them again next week. But we'll see.
The second thing that happened was my client called to tell me where he was and he said, "You're on a what?" I guess the bus is perceived as kind of ghetto, but I didn't care in B-more so I sure as hell don't care here. I've never seen anyone urinate in a Chicago bus. Nor have I been exhorted to join AA, asked by all my fellow riders what I thought of Hillary vs. Giuliani, or subjected to a comparison of notes about how many times people had been shot and what media they had been featured in each time. ("The first time, I was on Channel 2 and 13 but the second time it was just 2 and the paper did a little thing. And I don't know nobody watches Channel 2.")
But I digress. The job interview was 60 stories up, overlooking the lake, and I met with 4 people. I think there was a schedule, but nobody knew what it was, so it ended up lasting 3 hours. I liked all the people and the work sounds good, and they said they liked me. The only doubts I have are about the pay and hours and especially, whether I'll go crazy working on two pharma clients as opposed to mixing up physical therapy, ice skating, dog racing legislation, and campus foodservice all in one day, which is the kind of thing I'm used to. I'm supposed to talk to them again next week. But we'll see.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Breaking News from Chain Store Age
Kum & Go Acquires 76 Git-n-Go Stores
West Des Moines, Iowa -- June 17 -- Kum & Go has boosted its store base by 22% with the acquisition of 76 Git-n-Go convenience stores. The deal, valued at $9 million, includes 40 stores in Oklahoma and 36 in Missouri.
(Tee-hee.)
Kum & Go Acquires 76 Git-n-Go Stores
West Des Moines, Iowa -- June 17 -- Kum & Go has boosted its store base by 22% with the acquisition of 76 Git-n-Go convenience stores. The deal, valued at $9 million, includes 40 stores in Oklahoma and 36 in Missouri.
(Tee-hee.)
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Gonna be one of those Fioricet days
I have a job interview this afternoon. One of my East Coast clients called this morning and asked if I could have lunch downtown. Sure, I said. What else do you say when someone comes that far and wants to have lunch? Especially a client I've never had the opportunity to meet. Plus it's not like it was out of my way.
Of course, as a laid-back startup exec he might wonder why I'm dressed to the nines . . . and will no doubt figure out what happened if I actually get the job.
Of course, as a laid-back startup exec he might wonder why I'm dressed to the nines . . . and will no doubt figure out what happened if I actually get the job.
Monday, June 14, 2004
One other thing
I have to share this incredibly unflattering picture of our cat. I mean he's fat, but he's really not this fat.
Saturday was my last marketing research class. And boy was it long and boring. Everyone had to present their project and then there was a class critique, which is all well and good until you get up to about #8. By then, thinking of anything intelligent to say is well nigh impossible. I think my class had 16 people.
One of the last ones came from my Japanese classmate. Her project dealt with an okonomi-yaki restaurant in the Loop. None of us knew what the hell an okonomi-yaki was, but luckily in Slide 2 there was a picture. It looked kinda like this:
Except with less green and more purple. The accompanying text said, "Make with seafood, vegetable, any thing you like." So the entire rest of her presentation was about how to market this thing that looks like a pan-fried garbage cake while everyone else looked on in horror and I kept trying not to laugh. Finally, we got to the Q&A and someone asked, "Um, is it good?" She was so insistent that it was, that most of the class was saying they wanted to taste it by the end.
And actually, if you Google okonomi-yaki or "Japanese pizza," most of the other pictures look far more appetizing.
Overall, this weekend was pretty uneventful after our adventures during the week. Saturday we paid a visit to the awesome beergarden not far from our house. Sunday we went walking in Wicker Park and Bucktown as part of our ongoing search for a neighborhood in which to buy a condo. Both are supposed to be "up-and-coming," but I saw no evidence of this in W.P. which is full of housing projects, boarded-up stores, and nail salons, which are to neighborhoods what water stains are to ceilings: a definite bad sign. There were beggars, too, but nowhere near as many as in our neighborhood.
On Wednesday I have a job interview for the first time in months. The company is one of the biggest and best in the world, wins zillions of awards, is reportedly full of brilliant people, in short an unbeatable resume-booster -- and works people to death and pays them shit. On the plus side, it's downtown. I stopped applying for anything that wasn't downtown. On the minus side, I know I'd miss working at home.
One of the last ones came from my Japanese classmate. Her project dealt with an okonomi-yaki restaurant in the Loop. None of us knew what the hell an okonomi-yaki was, but luckily in Slide 2 there was a picture. It looked kinda like this:
Except with less green and more purple. The accompanying text said, "Make with seafood, vegetable, any thing you like." So the entire rest of her presentation was about how to market this thing that looks like a pan-fried garbage cake while everyone else looked on in horror and I kept trying not to laugh. Finally, we got to the Q&A and someone asked, "Um, is it good?" She was so insistent that it was, that most of the class was saying they wanted to taste it by the end.
And actually, if you Google okonomi-yaki or "Japanese pizza," most of the other pictures look far more appetizing.
Overall, this weekend was pretty uneventful after our adventures during the week. Saturday we paid a visit to the awesome beergarden not far from our house. Sunday we went walking in Wicker Park and Bucktown as part of our ongoing search for a neighborhood in which to buy a condo. Both are supposed to be "up-and-coming," but I saw no evidence of this in W.P. which is full of housing projects, boarded-up stores, and nail salons, which are to neighborhoods what water stains are to ceilings: a definite bad sign. There were beggars, too, but nowhere near as many as in our neighborhood.
On Wednesday I have a job interview for the first time in months. The company is one of the biggest and best in the world, wins zillions of awards, is reportedly full of brilliant people, in short an unbeatable resume-booster -- and works people to death and pays them shit. On the plus side, it's downtown. I stopped applying for anything that wasn't downtown. On the minus side, I know I'd miss working at home.
Friday, June 11, 2004
Our friends from Raleigh just left, which is very sad. But we had a good time. And next weekend we're going to Charlotte for a wedding.
They drove cross-country in this big white Grand Marquis whose front end carried a RETIRED license plate and about 1,000,000 dead bugs. There was no chance of getting it into a game-day Wrigleyville parking spot, so B. put it in the garage. I was suitably impressed, since I often have trouble getting our little Corolla in there (which has the housepaint streaks to prove it).
The other day I googled myself because I published an article and wanted to see if it came up. Eventually it did, but first there were dozens and dozens of references to my website! We hosted our Raleigh friends' movie on there, just because they didn't have anyplace to stash it, and it traveled far and wide and even got picked up by sites I'd heard of, like Landover Baptist. Unfortunately, Colliculus took the movie off my site a while ago, so all those links are dead now. But you can find the movie here. I recommend watching the original Weebls animation first. My friend L's ass is the topic of discussion groups all over Europe.
At one point I was almost beating out the TV reporter who shares my name. Soon I'll be much more famous.
They drove cross-country in this big white Grand Marquis whose front end carried a RETIRED license plate and about 1,000,000 dead bugs. There was no chance of getting it into a game-day Wrigleyville parking spot, so B. put it in the garage. I was suitably impressed, since I often have trouble getting our little Corolla in there (which has the housepaint streaks to prove it).
The other day I googled myself because I published an article and wanted to see if it came up. Eventually it did, but first there were dozens and dozens of references to my website! We hosted our Raleigh friends' movie on there, just because they didn't have anyplace to stash it, and it traveled far and wide and even got picked up by sites I'd heard of, like Landover Baptist. Unfortunately, Colliculus took the movie off my site a while ago, so all those links are dead now. But you can find the movie here. I recommend watching the original Weebls animation first. My friend L's ass is the topic of discussion groups all over Europe.
At one point I was almost beating out the TV reporter who shares my name. Soon I'll be much more famous.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Why is Reagan's passing such a BFD, I asked? Turns out all the details are mandated by White House protocol. Richard Nixon didn't get all that to-do because he didn't choose to. When you get inaugurated, apparently one of the first things you do is choose your funeral.
I learned all of this from my colleague/client in DC, who is basically stranded there for the next 12 hours since the road to Alexandria is closed.
Although Tim has an excellent point (in yesterday's comments) about old dead conservatives inevitably seeming more harmless than the current crowd.
I learned all of this from my colleague/client in DC, who is basically stranded there for the next 12 hours since the road to Alexandria is closed.
Although Tim has an excellent point (in yesterday's comments) about old dead conservatives inevitably seeming more harmless than the current crowd.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
No mail delivery on Friday. Does anyone else wonder why Reagan's passing is such a BFD?
Screaming Girls are now in a tent next door. Screaming.
Screaming Girls are now in a tent next door. Screaming.
Why I Love My New A/C
It's not actually mine, or new, but it came with the apartment and last night Colliculus installed it in the room where I work.
1. It keeps my hot, airless little room fresh and conducive to working.
2. It drowns out the little girls who live down the street, who scream and scream and scream and scream. I don't even think they're playing a game. I think they're just playing "Who can scream the loudest, longest and screechiest?"
3. It has multiple fan settings, so I can turn it down when the phone rings.
4. It has a remote control!!
Tonight's houseguests will also be happy. They're driving here from Cheyenne today. They have a lot more gumption than I do -- just thinking of that flat, long highway makes me antsy.
1. It keeps my hot, airless little room fresh and conducive to working.
2. It drowns out the little girls who live down the street, who scream and scream and scream and scream. I don't even think they're playing a game. I think they're just playing "Who can scream the loudest, longest and screechiest?"
3. It has multiple fan settings, so I can turn it down when the phone rings.
4. It has a remote control!!
Tonight's houseguests will also be happy. They're driving here from Cheyenne today. They have a lot more gumption than I do -- just thinking of that flat, long highway makes me antsy.
Friday, June 04, 2004
Goings-on
There is a noise outside like a dying monster. I thought maybe it was either a power washer or "The Star-Spangled Banner" being sung really badly at Wrigley Stadium. But when I got up to go to the kitchen, I realized it was too close.
So I stuck my head out the window and beheld a full-blown festival, complete with a live band, tent, and Spot-a-Pot, in the backyard one house down from us! Also a full-size flagpole with the U.S. and Cubs flags waving. And let me tell you, it is one tiny, crowded little backyard over there. To give you an idea, the backyards on this street are about twice as big as our living room (which is about 12 x 15).
Right now they're singing a really soulful version of that 4 Non-Blondes single.
So I stuck my head out the window and beheld a full-blown festival, complete with a live band, tent, and Spot-a-Pot, in the backyard one house down from us! Also a full-size flagpole with the U.S. and Cubs flags waving. And let me tell you, it is one tiny, crowded little backyard over there. To give you an idea, the backyards on this street are about twice as big as our living room (which is about 12 x 15).
Right now they're singing a really soulful version of that 4 Non-Blondes single.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Yesterday I called the editor of a supermarket magazine to introduce myself and pitch him on a story. He said, “The problem is, the July issue will be our last and we’ve already finished all the content for that issue. The magazine’s closing.” I stammered, “Sorry to hear that. Um, what’s next for you?” He said, “I don’t really know, I guess.” We laughed awkwardly, and I said I was sorry to hear that, wished him luck and hung up.
That’s one of the more awful pitch calls I’ve made. Lots of these calls are awkward, and a few are downright unpleasant. For example:
“What makes you think my readers would ever care about that?” -– Hartford Courant business editor
“Oh, you want to talk to the advertising department. I know you think you want to talk to the editor, but trust me, you need to talk to advertising first.” -– Receptionist at some podunk Pennsylvania newspaper
“[Vomiting sounds]”
-- Voicemail of a business editor at The Aegis, a paper in Maryland
Anyway, it bothered me so I emailed the supermarket magazine editor a little later and offered to use my vast network of connections to help him find a new job. Anyone know of a DC-area editing/publishing position for someone with expertise in retail and science, and fluent in Chinese?
That’s one of the more awful pitch calls I’ve made. Lots of these calls are awkward, and a few are downright unpleasant. For example:
“What makes you think my readers would ever care about that?” -– Hartford Courant business editor
“Oh, you want to talk to the advertising department. I know you think you want to talk to the editor, but trust me, you need to talk to advertising first.” -– Receptionist at some podunk Pennsylvania newspaper
“[Vomiting sounds]”
-- Voicemail of a business editor at The Aegis, a paper in Maryland
Anyway, it bothered me so I emailed the supermarket magazine editor a little later and offered to use my vast network of connections to help him find a new job. Anyone know of a DC-area editing/publishing position for someone with expertise in retail and science, and fluent in Chinese?
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
There Are No Pan-Asian Supermarkets Down in Hell
I heard this song on college radio -- where else? -- today. And it was especially appropriate because today I also read a mouthwatering article about ethnic grocery stores by my pen-pal Catherine.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
This is how I know I'm a Chicagoan:
I sat down on the L and this guy made some sort of mild movement toward my pocket. He clearly didn't take anything and it was close quarters, so I figured it was an unintentional thing. Two or three stops went by and he spoke up.
Him: Whatcha reading?
Me: A textbook for class. [directed at woman behind him] What?
Him to her: Why you touching me?
Her: I'm NOT touching you, I'm just trying to get her attention.
Me: What?
Her (over my head): CLARK AND DIVISION. You want to get off here. You gonna miss your stop.
Him: Whatcha reading?
Me: A marketing research book.
Him: Where you from?
Me (holding up book): See, I'm trying to READ my book. Not to be offensive or anything, but I don't feel like chatting right now.
Him: No, where you from? I'm just trying to Serve and Protect. Because you don't look like you from around here.
Me: I told you, I'm trying to read. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't want to talk with you.
Him: I mean, are you from the Earth? Because you look different somehow.
At this point I got up and moved to the front of the car. When I got to my stop, I glanced back at him in case the cops asked for a description and he sort of waggled his fingers at me, like he couldn't quite get them all together for an actual bye-bye. Meanwhile, if anyone asks me for a description, all I got was that he was gross-looking.
I do remember looking at myself in the mirror at school an hour earlier and thinking, "Damn, I look like a freak. I really need to stop going out in public like this." When I left the house, I was running late and threw on the following: A red-and-mustard-striped T-shirt that I bought one time just because it was $8 and the shirt I was wearing was so goddamned ugly I didn't want to wear it for a minute longer; jeans that are too big and too long, and are shredding at the bottom because they get caught under my shoes; big black hippie sandals; and a formal but balding black velvet blazer (which I think he was touching because of the velvet). And my hair is a halo of frizz because I didn't have time to use conditioner.
It later occurred to me that a year ago, I probably would've played along with the guy for the entertainment value, but by now that kind of thing falls into the category of Somebody's Bullshit which, as we all know, I Don't Have to Put Up With.
Him: Whatcha reading?
Me: A textbook for class. [directed at woman behind him] What?
Him to her: Why you touching me?
Her: I'm NOT touching you, I'm just trying to get her attention.
Me: What?
Her (over my head): CLARK AND DIVISION. You want to get off here. You gonna miss your stop.
Him: Whatcha reading?
Me: A marketing research book.
Him: Where you from?
Me (holding up book): See, I'm trying to READ my book. Not to be offensive or anything, but I don't feel like chatting right now.
Him: No, where you from? I'm just trying to Serve and Protect. Because you don't look like you from around here.
Me: I told you, I'm trying to read. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't want to talk with you.
Him: I mean, are you from the Earth? Because you look different somehow.
At this point I got up and moved to the front of the car. When I got to my stop, I glanced back at him in case the cops asked for a description and he sort of waggled his fingers at me, like he couldn't quite get them all together for an actual bye-bye. Meanwhile, if anyone asks me for a description, all I got was that he was gross-looking.
I do remember looking at myself in the mirror at school an hour earlier and thinking, "Damn, I look like a freak. I really need to stop going out in public like this." When I left the house, I was running late and threw on the following: A red-and-mustard-striped T-shirt that I bought one time just because it was $8 and the shirt I was wearing was so goddamned ugly I didn't want to wear it for a minute longer; jeans that are too big and too long, and are shredding at the bottom because they get caught under my shoes; big black hippie sandals; and a formal but balding black velvet blazer (which I think he was touching because of the velvet). And my hair is a halo of frizz because I didn't have time to use conditioner.
It later occurred to me that a year ago, I probably would've played along with the guy for the entertainment value, but by now that kind of thing falls into the category of Somebody's Bullshit which, as we all know, I Don't Have to Put Up With.
