We rode bikes.
We ate hauraches.
We attended The Paper Machete, a weekly live magazine. This issue's theme was Father's Day. It featured a touching suicide piece by Jonathan Messinger, a scathingly hilarious suicide piece by Ian Belknap, and Bob Hungerford from Spatula City.
"What do you want to do after this?"
Tacked to the wall of the bar was a laminated map of the United States.
"Let's go to the UP," I suggested half-jokingly.
Lauren's eyes lit up.
"Yes!"
We rode more bikes.
On the way home, I saw a lumbering figure with a great wad of hair approaching.
As he neared and got into focus, I realized it was our impeached governor, Rod Blagojevich.
I waved and said, "Hey!" surprised at my own excitement about seeing this probable criminal.
Lauren also said hi and introduced herself.
She had met Blago last year when he attended and performed alongside her in Rod Blagojevich: Superstar.
"Hey, how ya doin', Lauren?"
And he kept jogging.
Alone.
It was 6pm, so the UP was deemed too far.
We decided to drive along the lake and stake a claim somewhere in Wisconsin.
To my delight, traffic had taken the day off, too.
Around 8pm we found Sheboygan and a shanty along the river called The Mucky Duck, where Lauren had blue marlin and I had clam chowder and orange roughy.
And mugs of beer.
It's nice in Wisconsin.
There's very little racket.
And the lake water is safe to be around.
We found a motel and stayed inside of it.
There would be no yelling douchebags tonight.
Nor would be there be any loud 6am garbage trucks.
Or screaming kids, or yapping dogs, or blaring sirens, or bottles being broken.
Just us.
"Resting".
Verdict: Win
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