I feel gipped that I did not awake for the earthquake c. 4:45 am. It woke Matt up all the way in St. Louis. I only know Evansville, IN as the place I stop and thrift and get a bag of square donuts on my way back from grandma's house, not as a seismic epicenter. This morning I was hoping that what I was feeling was aftershocks but it was Monkee hopping on the bed, in combo with the trash truck idling outside, which makes the whole house purr, even up here on the third floor. I wonder if the possibilities of a big one hitting Chi-Boogie will change the building of that ruffled spiral tower, the world tallest building that is going be erected here on the edge of the lake, the the flajillion dollar condo spindle. I am sure earthshaking will not stop it, as nothing stops heedless capitalism or gentrification in Chicago, even in times of war and downturn. Tevs. I don't care so much, as the building is the symptom, not the problem itself. My municipal wishes are homes for the homeless, food for the hungry, parks with less broken glass in them, and that they'd fucking wash the streets already so I can skate.
Secondly, I have something to tell you, and that thing is a few things. A.) I have no idea if the benefit tonight is BYOB or booze sales a-happening, so I suggest you just crotch a flask and sneak nips in the roofless unisex bathroom. Or better yet, party sober. B.) I know what yr about to ask, and no, the only requests I will play is for Showbiz & A.G.'s "Soulclap" and C.) Feel free to bring yr kid or baby to the reading on Sunday, actually, please do. The lot is grassy and not trash strewn, it'll be ok.Posted by Jessica at April 18, 2008 11:01 AM | TrackBack