Another Lovely Day Here in Dubai

105 degrees today with 1,000% humidity.  Gorgeous!  Watch out for that sandstorm around midday, wouldn’t want sand in your melted ice cream.  Perfect day for nothing.  Scorching hazy sun reflecting off the Persian Gulf cooking your brain right inside your fucking head, like soldiers in Vietnam when we made them wear those steel helmets that heated like a skillet to enhance their experience.  Oh, that isn’t the Persian Gulf?  I suppose it is Lake Michigan.  But are we really going to split hairs here?  What is the difference between Lake Michigan and the Persian Gulf right now, other than some U.S. Navy warships cruising around some off-shore rigs protecting Saudi oil interests on our collective tax dime?  Not a fucking thing.  I’m pretty sure that if you wander down to Oak Street Beach today there will be at least a few dipshits in burkas.

One of the positives of a heat wave is that it does a little spring-cleaning of the drug-addicted vagrants.  Their old sweat pants, moon boots, stained parka and woolen cap don’t seem to be what the doctor ordered when the mercury shoots for the sun.  But of course I’m kidding(ish), I don’t want people to die of heat stroke.  Driving home from Midway airport last night I did see a rather sane-looking chap bent over at the waist with hands on knees, in the absolute dead fucking center of Cicero Ave.  He was shirtless and looking a bit, um, “wild”.  He has the right idea.  No better way to beat the heat than to have a Tahoe ram you in the ass at 50mph.  Off to the air-conditioned hospital for you to suck on ice chips.  If anyone sees me shirtless, bobbing and weaving in the middle of Division Street today, you’ll know the score.

Not my best effort on this post.  A bit disjointed, marginally funny.  What the fuck do you want?  Not really thinking straight this week.  My body was built for hunting, gathering and warfare on forested plains in northern Europe.  It certainly wasn’t meant to scurry up fruit trees in Equatorial Guinea.  Whatever, fuck off.  

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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