"Fuck Pilsen!"

So, last night I went to see a band called Maritime at The Empty Bottle, and after many a 312 beer, we went to get burritos at The Burrito House. When we walk in, there are people milling around talking to the staff so I asked if they were ordering. They were not, but somehow a heavyset girl in a full soccer outfit felt a need to tell me that the quite beyond heavyset middle aged man with a beard and a sport coat they were with was a Pulitzer Prize winner. I didn't ask if he was, but, hey, that's great. When I'm a famous writer, I will demand that a chick in sports apparel talks me up to everyone within earshot, especially when I'm dining at 2 in the morning.

At first, when I heard how opinionated and annoying this fellow was, I suggested we sit as far away from him as we could, but the more I overheard, I just had to hear more awfulness! He was spouting off things like "Fuck Pilsen!" Pilsen is a neighborhood in Chicago. We never heard the meat of his arguments because we were laughing too hard and quoting lines from "Billy Madison" because he looked just like Principal Anderson, or The Revolting Blob, if you prefer his professional wrestling name.

The guy a table over from The Revolting Blob was sleeping. When we woke him up, he said, in a British accent "Yes, I need to make a left on Paulina." He was out of it. Probably got mugged later.

Then there were two guys perched at the counter, chatting up customers, and it appears as if they had come to the Burrito House to meet women. It's an interesting thought because women at that hour are perhaps drunk and desperate, but at that point they have chosen their stomachs over their vaginas, so it seems like getting to them a hair too late, no?

The thing about Big Business, is he makes me laugh constantly

when I'm around him. This morning my roommate told me that I woke her up when I got home because I was still laughing, and I continued to laugh intermittently through out the next day. I got a text from him this morning that read, "I wanted to explore that soccer girl. I bet her trench smelled like the floor of The Metro after a Pumpkins show." Trench! Okay, he's gross sometimes, but he's literally the funniest guy I know. So, if you want to honor him in your own way, order a Bizznizz Rocks (Vanilla Stoli and Diet Coke), and if you want to do me a favor, follow me around hanging on my every word and tell randoms about the Pulitzer I deserve for writing a shitty blog.