This is not a post where I’m going to debate in my own head whether or not to continue this so-called blog. It will continue, despite the fact that I seem to accentuating the erratic part of it these days. This is an accounting how this came about, how I have come to this point, and what may be coming in the future.

Few people know that what is here is the third incarnation of this blog. I wiped clean two previous attempts. The first attempt was about 10 months after I first met Scott. Like it or not, I have to admit that he had a lot to do with the failures of the first two, and the fact that this one lived on. (Warning: This is going to get long.)

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This blog was originally to be a mixture of cars, gay politics, DC-related news, and… oh… hot guys. I’ve mostly focused on cars, with a little DC content. For the most part, I haven’t delved into anything really personal, and that was by design. This post is different… I just got back from my first trip back to Chicago since the “divorce.” It was a trip I was pretty nervous about making, and it surprised me a bit. Click through only if you are really interested in the neurotic workings of my mind.
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I’ve decided Liz Phair is the only woman I will sleep with. Unfortunately, she apparently has a boyfriend.

Her concert tonight gave me tingly feelings where no woman has. She was amazing. Very classy broad, even when she is singing about hot white cum and fuck & run.

I was very happy she sang lots of her old stuff… not that there is anything wrong with the new stuff. (I disagree with my friend Andra, who thinks her stuff was better when Liz lived in Wicker Park… that’s only because Andra lives in Wicker Park.) I was afraid that she wouldn’t do stuff like Mesmerizing and Cinco de Mayo, but she did.

Problem with a Liz Phair concert… she has so many songs that I like that she will never get to them all. I do wish though that she would have been able to get to Johnny Feel Good, Giving It All To You, and Friend Of Mine.

In case anyone was wondering… yes, Johnny was my childhood nickname.

And Ben’s Chili Bowl rocks after too many Wolaver’s.