Some have been saying that the devil has passed on, but has he?

The answer to that question shall probably be answered in song tonight, for it is St. Patrick's Day you truckers.

Since it's an official holiday in my head I'm going to keep this short and tell you about the realization I had while watching the weather channel.

I realized, thanks to official record keepings, that to prepare for March 17th in Chicago you have to prepare for temperatures that range from 0 to 74 degrees Fahrenheit. Those are the record temperatures for today.

And, you wonder why we drink.

Kind of a drag...

It wasn't a good day, thankfully St.-my middle name Day is fast approaching, so I have no worries about it getting better.

Unlike the person in the story located here.

Don't feel like reading? Fine, I'll sums it up for ya.

Man + Sex toy + Saber Saw Blade + Woman = I'm never having a sexual experience in Maryland.

Everything, including the medevac ride I assume, was consensual, anything going forward, I assume, will rip the sutures across state lines. There's a lesson in all of this, and one not related to anything any of us could consider a bad day, and not just because she was getting laid.

Probably something to do with not being stupid... or something.

"You've no idea how pleasant it is not to have any future. It's like having a totally efficient contraceptive."

That, the title, read the book it's from.

Then, rejoice, because the Hillbillies are coming out of hibernation. Oh yeah. After months and months of waiting a new show has been tentatively (and I stress the word, tentatively, because of the source. cough*Triz*cough) scheduled for April 24 at, surprise surprise, Chicago St. Pub.

It may seem like the bar is mentioned excessively, and it is, but that would stop if they would quit booking such fantastic acts, and The Righteous Hillbillies are about as fantastic as they come. Especially if you like to get drunk and rowdy listening to what may be the best unheard-of band in the whole damn world.

When it comes back in stock, you can buy their self-titled, debut CD here.

And, no. I'm not exaggerating.

That's not a Cheez-It you're trying to pass.

Thank you, Engadget. Thank you for informing me that Western Digital will be releasing the 2TB Caviar Green external hard drive, for if you hadn't, I would not be wondering; Just how much porn would it take to fill that trucker up? It's a hypothetical question, as this is clearly built towards DVR's, but it doesn't malign the fact that, the second I saw this, was the second that I thought that I must have one.

Yes. Yes, I said, thought.

Because, then I saw... this. That's right. It's four of those truckers above forced into an arranged marriage, or what Western Digital calls a ShareSpace. (No. It's not their first one, they just keep making them better.) It also doubles as iTunes server, but I don't really care about what programs they decide to run with, I can't actually, I'm too busy salivating over the wide variety and nearly endless amount of music I could put on that thing.

Would it be a waste? Probably, music will always trump technology for me, but I see no reason why the two can't get along in the most orgasmic ways.

Happy 172nd birthday, Chicago.

So, I have time to rewrite that 212 million dollar quitting speech...

Thanks, Big Game Mega Millions.

I didn't even get one damn number and, if I had wasted more than what amounted to loose change floating around my car, I'd be pissed about that fact. Not about losing, I expected that, but not even getting one number, it kind of feels like each one those numbered balls was drawn and then smacked right against my chin. All six of them, just like a weekend with the Spirit.

Now I miss Chicago St. too.

Sorry, Bourbonnais. But, it smells funny near the Arby's.

My dog, Dryfus, is a prick.

Nothing new, but he's getting better at it. Today, he managed to find a box of nails to carry, only they were too heavy. So, being the prick that he is, he decided to drop them in the middle of the floor, in a spot where I'd step on them, but where I wouldn't see them.

Inevitably, that's exactly what happens, I slip on them and nearly break my damn neck, but, it's OK. See, since they were nails I was a stepping on, without shoes, I managed to give myself acupuncture at the same time. Apparently, God has a plan for even the most inane and boring times of our lives, well, that and he obviously hates me.

Which is why I prefer St. Patrick. Whose one day holiday is slowly starting to turn into one forgotten month. Which, thankfully, starts this weekend with the Manhattan Irish Fest, featuring acts like Brendan Loughrey and The Hatfield Sisters, it's a nice kick off to the season, one which I will definitely be attending this Saturday.

Oh, and I've been considering cutting the pony poo, yea or neigh?