Every single fucking time I go to goddamn Lincoln Park bad shit happens.
I should have trusted my instincts. Lincoln Park is the fucking devil.
I actually had a good time. That's how the devil gets you on his team: he's all nice to you, so you're like, "Well, I guess he's not that bad, I mean they sell high-life here and they're playing Rick Astley. Even though the only people in the bar who seem to have clandestine feelings towards deep-voiced gingers are me, Gyna, and the DJ. Fucking idiot Lincoln Park people. No respect for irony. But this place isn't too bad, I'm having fun. Ooooh, ooooh...Duran Duran!"
Fun is blinding.
So we leave, and I can't find my car. So me and Gyna hop in a cab.
Since I had no cash to pay for the cab, because I spent it all at the bar (a pox upon your houses, Lincoln Park), I told the cab driver to take me to an ATM. Then when we get there, my wallet's gone.
Cabbie gets pissed and kicks me out of the car and I walk home, freaking out over lack of wallet. Called the bar: no cigar. Called every single cab company that employs white cabs (but not drivers) to see if my wallet was in there. Can't find it.
Today, I got a call from my bank about some "suspicious activity," as most activities seem to be, where someone tried to charge $2,000 on my Debit card at CVS. So I canceled all of my cards, and found out that they tried to charge it on my debit card and both of my credit cards.
Fucking idiots. Good luck with that, they're both maxed out. That's what you get for robbing someone who's fucking broke, SUCKAH.
But, unfortunately: my corporate card was in there. I never carry that card with me, but I used it last week and never took it out of my wallet. So chances are that card's getting shit mad style.
They have everything. ID, credit cards, library card, check book. It's all canceled and finished, I've got a fraud alert on my credit report.
I hope whoever used those cards looks at my corporate card and sees where I work, and feels like a fucking retarded fruit fly jerkface for robbing from the inner-city children of Chicago. Oh, I'll just go to Banana Republic, and charge it to one of the only organizations that would have worked to help me as a child so I wouldn't grow up to be a thieving fuckhead son of a bitch.
I hate Lincoln Park with the fire of a thousand suns.
"You let your guard down, man," MoLinder told me today. YOU LET YOUR GUARD DOWN. That's what fucking Lincoln Park does to you: it bends you over the table and rapes you hard. And then it makes you pay for your rape kits, like Sarah Palin."
Speaking of which, Palin was on SNL last night and it was fucking hilarious. Mark "Funky Bunches of Sex" Wahlberg also made an appearance in a sketch that SNL ripped straight from my brain, because I wrote it in my head on Monday. Down to the donkey.
Just a little post script: I heart Colin Powell right now. And MSNBC has a slick little democratic donkey logo going on.