My Xbox red ringing was a good thing. My replacement plan allowed me to upgrade to the Elite, covered an all new replacement plan and I got $11 back. This week, fixing last weeks blunders, one slap at a time.
Tonight started out great: Good work out and bike ride, then went over to meet Pete, Dan and Hunter at the Music Box to see Alien. Phenomenal. On the ride home, after joking about not having my lights, I hit what must have been the largest pot hole in Chicago and popped both of my tires. Shitty, but it happens. I get home and decide I should cool off, I’ll play a little Beatles Rock Band to brighten my spirits. Nope. My Xbox 360 red rings, leaving me angry and more poor than I was before.
Less is more. Stop making your songs 4-5 minutes long. There is to much repetition, to many rappers, and unless your beats are deli fresh, they go stale after 2:30 minutes. Shorten your songs, lose the skits, and lets make some fat beats. Ok?
I had a Freddy Krueger dream last night? I have no idea why, haven’t thought about the guy in years, but in the dream I was at a doctors office getting some kind of face scan with something that resembled a claw. Freddy’s face flashed in front of me and suddenly I knew that I was in one of Freddy’s nightmares. The atmosphere changed, the walls were now rusty and falling apart. You could here some screaming and sex noises. The only companion I had was a tall man I had never seen before with a buzz cut and glasses. We walked the hallways of the nightmare, picking up other versions of Kruegars claw along the way. Finally I picked up a boxing glove, about the size of my head with signatures all over it and we went to hunt down Freddy himself.
Riding home from work, about a block from my house, some guy whipped open his door with just the right force so send me flying from my bike. Battle scars include shoulder bleeding, stiff arm, and some minor scraped and bruises.
The guy was a piece of euro trash who kept giving me a look like, “uh dude, you scratched my car”. He even made some great gestured towards his car.
Put me on the board, I just became one of the hundreds of bikers who get hit by car doors every month in Chicago.