Goin' Mobile

Currently I am on the Megabus headed back to Chicago. I spent the last couple of days in BG, and I didn't let a lot of people know. Apologies, I wanted to stay on the downlow, and mostly just hang out with the little lady. I'll be back soon enough. 

I am writing now for two reasons. One is that typing stuff allays boredom temporarily. The other is that I wanted the blog to have an entry written while in motion. Technology is fun. So are italics. 


Two hours till Chicago. Nice.

Weird, I always manage to look out the window to see the exact same Steak 'N' Shake in Indiana.



Lessee, what to talk about. Oh, I went to Tasty Thai this weekend. I was enjoying my meal when this corpulent lady and her companion walked in. She wore an expression on her face like she just detected a fart. She wondered aloud where she was, and what the hell was going on. It's a restaurant, I thought. There's no way you're not familiar. It was apparent she had never heard of Thai food, or at least she thought the idea of eating Thai food was akin to eating babies. Now, I realize that many people, especially those residing in NW Ohio aren't exactly exposed to wide-ranging epicurean delights, and I'm being fairly elitist, but it has to be insulting to work (wok?) somewhere and have your national cuisine be questioned by hillbillies. She stared at the menu and the accompanying tantalizing pictures for a full five minutes before deciding it wasn't for her. She exited while telling her companion that she'd "never had no...Thai food before", emphasizing the Thai, as it was the first or second time she'd ever said the word aloud.


I just re-read that last paragraph. I'm an asshole. 


Shit, the Megabus Wi-fi has cut out. Can't post this yet. Also can't sneakily view pornography. 


Zombieland opens Friday. I am excited. This movie has a lot of promise, in my eyes. Woody Harrelson in an action comedy. An action comedy involving dispatching zombies in creative and hilarious ways. Fuck yeah. I feel like I'm being rewarded for being a good little consumer. It's like when they released chocolate-covered Paydays, or when a new Who DVD comes out. Unnecessary, but ruling.


One hour, fifteen minutes to go.

comics and chicken

Today I had Popeye's. Two piece, red beans and rice, biscuit, and strawberry soda. Then I bought comics. A little splurge because I have a job interview tomorrow, and I like to reward myself before I actually accomplish anything. It was a nice day, although five hours and miles of walking after the chicken I still feel a bit greasy. A little comic-book readin'll put out that fire.

I'm applying for a bank teller job. That should be fun, and not repetitive at all. Hey, it's money, and I'll be surrounded by it. I get a 50% discount on all the money I want! It's a savings in the long run, I'm told.

Writing some jokes, a few hilarious exploits that I didn't live or experience first-hand will duly be incorporated into the material. I'm stealing your lives!

Man, this town will re-fatten me. I'm surrounded by delicious. Within two blocks there is a taqueria, a Vietnamese restaurant, two pizza places that sell their greasy slices so cheap (just like your mom), and a hot doggery selling a delicious chicago dog and fries for two dollars. Two! Two, I say.

Watched The Informant! Last night. Enjoyable. The film's pacing and style are what makes it, these two elements were Matt Damon's best co-star in a film full of actors I respect. Notably:

Scott Bakula as an FBI agent. I love Scott Bakula, and always will, because of Quantum Leap. That show entertained me and dammit, meant something to me when I was young. I had the soundtrack, novel series, the show's companion book, and I even studied quantum physics and String Theory at MIT and Caltech,  just so I could later go on to invent time travel as an homage to the show. Bakula brought it big time to the movie.

Clancy Brown. Motherfucker owns scenes like you or I own an iPod. He was really only in two scenes, but they were his. 

There were a whole host of comedians playing straight roles, that is to say they weren't comic relief really. Patton Oswalt, Joel McHale, Paul F Tompkins just to name a few. They were really pretty great, they served their roles well. I'm not sure why they were thought of when it came time to cast these roles, but Soderbergh knows what he's doing. Especially when he's making Ocean's Eleven three times.

And Matt Damon gave a really great performance. I gotta say, I like the man. His role wasn't flashy in the slightest, just a middle-aged schlub guy, the Paul Giamatti-type role, and I say that Matt Damon nailed it. A subtle performance in a subtle movie.

Blah blah blah. Give me some more chicken.

this means i have time on my hands

Another day goes, my employment status stays. I can't believe how many goddamned resumes i've sent out to no avail. Haven't been in Chicago long, I guess I shouldn't bitch. But I'm bored, and I want to.

Counting resumes sent out, applications filled in, stores walked into cold, asking if they need any help, I believe I've applied to over 7,000 jobs. Some of the jobs I've applied for would be a wonderful place to work, like The Field Museum or Whole Foods, or a comic book store, or pimp. Some aren't as great, like Sandwich Artist at a Subway, or dishwasher a a high traffic BBQ joint. A bit frustrating, but I've got money for rent (for now) with a bit left over for cheap entertainment.

Speaking of which, The Office is back tonight. Those Scranton bastards, they all have jobs. I could be Bob Vance, of Vance Refrigeration. I'd settle for Pam's old job, and believe me, I'm trying to get it.

I get to see Keaton tomorrow, which is exciting and lovely always. Merk will be in BG, so he doesn't have to put up with our disgusting bliss. Hurry up there, lady.

The laundromat is just down the street, and I went there today! Isn't this exciting? My blog gets the adrenaline pumping. I did three loads and three crossword puzzles! Holy fuck, my heart is racing just remembering it.

a fine evening, just fine

Last night's Mad Men was pretty good. Kinda below par for the show, but Betty's labor scenes and Pete's trials while trying to cash in on the "Negro demographic" were both compelling. The episode just wasn't as good as say, the one where Don Draper won over the new clients with an impassioned speech, then cheated on his wife. Remember? The one where he smoked cigarettes?

Anyway, an enjoyable episode. After which Merkel and I went out to the porch to smoke our own cigarettes (which I can't do as well as Don). Shortly after we sat down, the neighbor who lives directly above us began yelling. That's nothing new for him, but tonight it wasn't about getting into fights or drunken "singing". He began shouting about wanting to go to "The Swedish hospital". This was amusing, sounded like beer-soaked gibberish. Chuckles were exchanged. Then he started yelling about killing himself. Not as funny. By this point he's at the top of his lungs, and is running around, apparently throwing anvils at bears, that's how fucking noisy it was. The noise from our ceiling sounded like football practice. This man is batshit. Starting to think he may follow through. I'm frozen for a moment, then I remember the last thing I want to witness right now is a body screaming vertically past my patio to get to the sidewalk. Time to go inside, perhaps. We hear him scream, which gets louder as his pounding footsteps run from one end of the apartment to right the fuck above our fucking heads shit he's on the porch he's fucking going to fucking jump-

He didn't do it. He kept up the racket for awhile, 911 was called, and the fire department showed up promptly. About fifteen firemen came inside to subdue the crazeball. Crazeball was led out strapped to a gurney, which he apparently did not care for. The "Swedish Hospital" in question turned out to be an actual place, the Swedish Covenant Hospital. This whole episode may have been old hat for the guy, but I can't say the same for me. I was sure he was going to jump. I was sure of it.

 But yeah, Mad Men was pretty good.

more-

Did not get the job. Fuck. See you in a bit, BG.

what to do next

Man, it is fucking beautiful in Chicago today. 75 degrees and clear. I'm on my porch, trying not to check my email every minute. I'm waiting to hear about a job, at a place called Pronto 'Za. Sounds a lot like protozoa. If I were a smarter individual, I'd compare my nascent Chicago time to being a one-celled creature in an elegant way. But I'm not.

Hold on, I'm going to check my email now. Nothin' yet.

I hope I get this job. If I don't, I'm probably rocking the Black Swamp Festival this weekend. It sounds like a bunch o' fun. I want to see Keaton. I want to see Brian and Caleb. I want to see Frank and Jesse. I want to go to the electronic show, and I want to go to Kari's housewarming. Here's the thing, I was just in BG last weekend. I've moved to Chicago sixteen days ago. I feel guilty for coming back so often, like I'm cheating myself. This is hard to 'splain, Lucy. I have good reasons to come back, and I should probably just shut up. Part of me feels like I should just stay regardless of employment status, in order to get used to my new city faster. I plan on being home a lot anyway, my old lady lives there. I guess I should just not worry about it. Word.

Last night I checked out an comedy open mic night. Wanted to see what exactly it'll be like to give it a shot. Painful, as expected. A couple of them were really not bad, to me it seems they just need some time. But. A lot of them were really not good. There was one performer in ill-fitting pants that told two "jokes" and apologized, fleeing the stage trailing flopsweat. One dude was visibly reading from a piece of paper, and still got lost. My heart bled for him. Then I stood up and yelled, "Sic semper tyrannis!" and stabbed the poor clod. The crowd bathed me in their applause. I sat down, the next guy went on, and I realized I probably can't just stab all of these folks. So I just sat and did my time, building up karma for when it's my turn. Which will be soon, the second I have two and a half decent minutes of material. These fledgling comedians gave me hope, and a bit of confidence. Not that I'm going to be worlds better, but my material doesn't have to blow minds, at least not at first.

Still no email.

The dude that rang me up at the CVS last night was from Toledo. Crazy. I told Merkel about it and he related a story from when he was in San Francisco and some clerk told him he used to pull tractors there, back in the day. My tiny brain can't handle this tiny world!

Okay, bye. Send me your joke ideas. I'll rip them off and give you no credit. Also, come visit. The bus of Mega is cheap.

Okay, fine.

Hey, kids! Blog!

I figured that now that I'm in a new town, and I have something called ambition finally, it might be an okay time to share the bullshit that pops into my head with all you motherfuckers. That said, I have no idea whether or not this will be any good. But let's start.



I'm hungry.



That was pretty good. Look for more interesting things like that on a near-constant basis.

I guess I can recap some recent stuff: I moved to Chicago two weeks ago. I've applied for forty jobs. I finally have an interview in an hour an a half. What kind of job does this interview portend? It's a pizza place. Yep, moving up in the world.

Labor Day weekend I was back to NW Ohio. Yes, already. Nick Andersen married Anne Steiner in Bluffton, and I was proud to attend. Lovely ceremony, Nick's dad performed the ceremony, and his mom sang, which always rules. Got to hang out with some lil bastards i haven't seen in awhile.

It was odd to be back so quickly, I feel vacation-y. Odd but great. Went to a high school football game, witnessed a blowout, and played with a seriously spastic young lad. Also: wedding happened. Got drunk. Ate barbecue with my parents. Ate barbecue with Keaton's parents. Made fun of Keaton's cat. Other stuff happened, too.

Now I'm in Chicago again, in my badass apartment. Pictures of said badassery to follow. Why did I move here, you ask? If you've spoken to me in the last year you probably know. I'm here to be funny. Not just look funny, but BE funny. Writing jokes and watching improv, with improv/writing classes to come soon.

That's enough outta me. I need help with layout, and if you have a blog you want me to link to, and you're my friend, let me know. Send $3.00 to:

James B Hanna
3605 W. School, Apt. 1
Chicago, IL 60618

This is fun. Spleen you soon.