Here's a toast to the real world.

Okay, so when I say I want to go to Lollapalooza, I really mean I want to go to Lollapalooza when all the conditions are perfect. These conditions would be: a. the weather outside is very nice, maybe about seventy-five degrees; b. water is free and plentiful; c. I'm always close to the stage; d. someone buys me my ticket; e. I get a tan in the process.

Unfortunately: a. Lollapalooza in the beginning of August; b. water bottles will probably cost twenty-five dollars; c. there will be always a couple thousand people between me and every band; d. I have no benefactors who will shell out one hundred and fifty dollars; e. I don't tan.

So there we go. I will not be attending Lollapalooza this year.

Tonight Lindsay and I are going to some thing at the Metro called "Fighting Words: Literary Rock and Roll". It's part of Story Week, which is going on right now thanks to Columbia College. Dorothy Allison, Tom Perotta, and some other author I don't know will be speaking about...rock and roll? I don't know. I know I like Dorothy Allison and Tom Perotta, and I also like free things, and getting books signed by authors. So there.

I don't really have any plans for tomorrow night other than getting the hell out of my neighborhood. I already experienced St. Patrick's Day, Part One last Saturday. I avoided a crowd of people in green waiting in line at the Mystic Celt on Southport (which is EASILY the worst bar on the street). Later that night I saw a guy slip onto Clark Street when he attempted to catch a football that his brodudesterbuddy threw at him from the opposite sidewalk. He narrowly avoided having a cab run into his head. I was rooting for the cab. I've had enough of Poor Man's Mardi Gras and it hasn't officially happened yet.