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In a surprise move (not really), I slacked off all weekend and didn’t work on anything I set out to do. Coincidentally, this is what happens more or less every weekend since I moved back to New York. Weird…

To solemnly remember slower, quieter life in the little Midwestern village that is Chicago, here are a number of random flicks from the Windy City that I’ve been sitting on for a while.

Oh, and I should note… these are some of the last sunset shots out of that notoriously western-facing window. Not the absolute last, but we’re almost scraping bottom here. Something tells me I might be able to find some new ones in New York though…

Here are some way oldies from back when Chicago’s team of brutes was in that big hockey game they have every year. I kind of like the shots, as far as super noisy, and even-more-than-super blurry drunkovision photos go, so here they are, months out of context. Whatever, welcome to digimodernism… who needs context when you can have status updates instead?

A cab ride has long been one of my favorite ways to end a drunken evening. And not just because it beats getting raped on the train. There’s also just something serene, almost soothing, about watching the lights of the city zip by as the hallucinogens you consumed earlier that night help you melt into the leather seat.

A proper night cap isn’t a bad way to send the day off, either, though. Especially when the drink is particularly, um, magical and can tell the future. Granted, it was an easy guess, but when I’m in a certain state of consciousness at 3 am, I’m also pretty easily impressed.

It’s true.

Magic Hat is one of my favorite microbreweries, partly because their beer offerings are some of the more delicious ways to get drunk, but also because each cap comes with a short phrase, submitted by fans of the brew, printed on the underside. The caps are funny, insightful, and often incomprehensible (even when sober), but they’re downright collectible, just like Pokemon or Nazi gold!

I’ve amassed something of a repository myself, because, after all, what’s cooler than bragging about how much you drink to people who absolutely couldn’t give a shit?

Although, over time you’ll start getting an increasing number of doubles which quickly becomes disheartening. Eventually, the only hidden message left to be read is, “collecting beer caps is kind of a dumb hobby.”

Somewhat related: Is there anything more pointless (yes, even counting collecting beer caps) than having an age block on alcoholic products’ websites? As far as I’m aware, there is no age limit on lying.