Last night and today have been a bit introspective for me since talking to Poppy last night, who called to tell me her ex-boyfriend of, like, 10 years ago died from diabetes-related complications; he was 35.

Before I get into it, though, lemme just tell you how AWEsome Bus demolition is: FREAKing. And the buses weren't even the best part; the best part is the TRAILER demolition, where the drivers hitch various items, such as campers, boats, motorcycles or effigies, to their cars and race around the track until they start smashing into each other. It's fucking great. And is if THAT weren't awesome enough, try viewing it with JB and his bunch of drunk, rowdy, Chicago-Irish knuckleheads (who, btw, were freaking HOT ... SNIDGE). In fact, for the race in September, a bunch of JB's Bellwood Firemen friends are getting a bus together, and he and I are going to try to talk our publisher into letting the Post sponsor it and then put slogans like "Pastrick for Prez in 2008" and "Stiglich Knew" on it. For that race, we're DEFINITELY going back to JB & Fam's cottage for the afterparty. ("We got 75 cases of BEER, man!") Oh, WE'LL help you drink it, all right ...

And now, back to our regular whining ...