It's summer, and I was finally walking around on the streets outside my apartment at 1AM on a Thursday and not in my bed being woken up by the drunk Chicagoans like I usually am around that time.  What have I learned?  Well that's a lot of saying "Wooooo!" for a Thursday.  Thursday is also the night that the alley outside my bedroom window often becomes Drunk Fight Club.  As you may have seen in some previous posts, sometimes I will open up the window and get my two cents in, settle some arguments when I can . . .

The thing is, most people have to get to work Friday morning, but 22-year-olds don't care about any of that.  If they can stay out all night and maybe even scare up some ass, who cares if they're a little tired the next day?  And even if they are a little run down, they will just have a bloody mary right after work on Friday, and then they're right back in the game, perhaps a vodka Red Bull or two if that doesn't do the trick.  You can fight off hangovers so much easier at that age.

To be honest, I'm never mad when I wake up from the "wooooo's!"; I just wish I was 22 again . . .