Are there really enough septic tank problems in the world to justify all this spam?

In the year 3000 A.D., anthropologists are going to look back and judge us and they're going to think that we're a culture of small penised-men that can't pay our mortgages and have no working plumbing.

Trying to divine who we are as a people only through bulk email, you would imagine that we're a race of poor, sex-crazed Morlocks.

Which is to say, they've nailed me.

So, yesterday, Sunday morning, I'm enjoying the coffee and the relaxing and the smoking and the waking up, and feeling good in general, as I am wont to do. I was in my room, reading and writing, and I looked around for an album to provide some atmosphere. I hadn't listened to it for a while, so I decided to pop in Weezer's 'Pinkerton.'

So much of that CD is speaking to me right now, but especially one song in particular. I've decided that, in the soundtrack of my life, my current anthem is 'El Scorcho.'

Once, many years ago, my youngest brother Barry and myself went to see Weezer at the Metro in Chicago. We were kicked out when Barry puked in the middle of the floor in front of the stage. That, however, is another story.

Anyway, there's a part in El Scorcho where the song speeds up and that section starts with the line "How stupid is it?" Then, immediately after that, the song slows down and the slow section, too, starts with the "How stupid is it?"

Yesterday, I enjoyed the fuck out of that song, way more than I should have.

I was jumping around my room, high on nearly a pot of coffee, emoting intensely, joyously, like a white, midwestern James Brown. When I opened the door and came out of my room to refill, my roommate was mysteriously gone. He says he went to work, but I know that I must have rocked him out of the apartment.

I'm not going to post the lyrics here. I've always thought that lyric posting was a bit...fruity. Just go type "el scorcho lyrics" into Google and you'll more than dig where I'm coming from.

In truth, though, my life has very little to do with half-Japanese girls.

At the moment.

Oh! I've found a new love.

I've only met my sweet lady three times, but each encounter has been sweeter than the last. She brings me to places I didn't even know I could go. When I'm with her, it's pure joy and I couldn't be happier.

I am, of course, speaking of the combination of Ben & Jerry's Vanilla ice cream, tater tots, and Hershey's chocolate syrup.

My God, people. My God.

Somehow, last week, the combination popped into my head and I knew without a doubt it would be good. I set out the ice cream, spoon at the ready. I microwaved the tots, bringing them to their ideal, hot, salty state. Finally, I pour a little swimming pool of chocolate syrup on the side of the tot plate.

'Transcendant' is the only word. Judge me if you must. I dip my fries into my shakes and malts, too.

Last thing, the Big News: I found an incredible fare, and I'm going home to Chicago for a week long visit in late June. It was only $166, and my mom agreed to toss $100 of that my way for my birthday, which is mid-June.

The last time I was home was Christmas, so I figure a mid-year visit makes the most sense. Couple that with it being my birthday month and the fact that the Taste of Chicago starts on the 25th, and there's no way I can pass this up. I'll be home next month!

Can not wait.

Man, the Taste of Chicago! I'll be eating fried plantains! Fried catfish! Fried dough! Real, actual Chicago pizza! Fried!

Oh, the places I'll go! Oh, the things I'll eat!

OK, that's quite enough of that. But, yes, I am happy about this turn of events.

I perform tonight at 8pm. Remember, people, this is live comedy, and yesterday, when I sat in on an afternoon class, I almost threw my back out when I picked up a tall blond girl named Laurence. Clearly, anything can happen.

If your interests include watching me potentially injure myself, you should definitely go.