Davusten Burraris Syndrome

I’m back in the land of cheese, fireworks, beer and “naughty girl” highway shops. My house is a mess, and of course I can’t clean like a normal person. No, I have to take every frickin’ thing out of every drawer, box, container and clean it. Now, it will take me 12 months just to get through the kitchen. The German will not be happy that I’m getting rid of our coffee maker and toaster oven. Luckily, he’s out of town.

My last few days in Chicago were fun and jam packed with activities – movies, drinking, shopping, drinking, dinners, drinking, museums, drinking, etc. I even got to have dinner with an old mobster and Johnny Depth. That was fun. Nothing like sitting with a guy that’s been convicted of mail fraud, tax evasion and the murder of a corporate executive (he was not convicted of this – just suspected). Anyway, good times and good linguini.

I’m still suffering from my “Davusten Burraris” syndrome. I just can’t get enough of these two. I wonder if this particular genre is going to become passé. Hard to say. I hope not. I highly recommend “Magical Thinking.”

I had a facial before I left the city from a young sassy black girl that graduated from the Dudley School of Beauty. Let me just say that she was quick to criticize my aging skin, large pores, broken capillaries, sun damage, wrinkles, and dark circles. On several occasions during the “procedure” she reminded me, with high pitched snickers, that “they didn’t have the products back then that we have today to help with your skin problems.” What? Jesus. I mean I don’t need a young sassy black girl with perfect skin telling me how tragic my aging sun damaged face is and how sad that there weren’t products available for me WAY BACK WHEN. What the fuck ever. Is this what the Dudley School of Beauty faculty is teaching these young estheticians?