<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!-- generator="weebly" -->
<rss version="2.0" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" >

<channel><title><![CDATA[ - Corinne Bilyeu]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/corinne-bilyeu.html]]></link><description><![CDATA[Corinne Bilyeu]]></description><pubDate>Mon, 04 Aug 2008 19:13:34 +0700</pubDate><generator>Weebly</generator><item><title><![CDATA[Conversations with Semidrunk Pseudointellectuals: The Democratic Primary Edition]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2008/02/conversations-with-semidrunk-pseudointellectuals-the-democratic-primary-edition.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2008/02/conversations-with-semidrunk-pseudointellectuals-the-democratic-primary-edition.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 18 Feb 2008 18:13:54 +0700</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2008/02/conversations-with-semidrunk-pseudointellectuals-the-democratic-primary-edition.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Untitled Document.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--> [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div id="465762744060606" align="left" style="width: 100%; overflow-y: hidden;"><html><head><title>Untitled Document</title><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><style type="text/css">.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--></style></head><body><p align="justify" class="style1"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/4753895.jpg" align="left"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/4439018.jpg" alt="C" align="left">orinne: So Lizzie, what do you think now that Obama has overtaken Hillary in the primaries, you Clinton supporter? <br>  <br>Lizzie: Come again? <br><br>Corinne: Uh, yeah, biotch. He's on his way to the White House. <br><br>Lizzie: Corinne, you spend more time scouring MySpace than even skimming the Drudge Report. Do you even know why you like Obama? <br><br>Corinne: Sure, lots of reasons. Do you have any reason for liking Hillary other than she went to your high school a million years ago? <br><br>Lizzie: Game on, betch. &ldquo;It Takes a Village&rdquo; vs. &ldquo;The Audacity of Hope.&rdquo; Go. <br><br>Corinne: Having read neither, I will approach this solely by the titles. &ldquo;Audacity&rdquo; has the most syllables of all the words. Score one for Obama. And he won a Grammy, over Hillary. <br><br>Lizzie: So he has a more soulful R&amp;B voice. Hillary speaks with the voice of the people. It takes a village to find anyone who understands the word &ldquo;audacity.&rdquo; He's pompous. Score one for Hillary. <br><br>Corinne: What about her autobiography that was a thousand pages long, dry as a bone, and didn't mention the &ldquo;Monica Gate&rdquo; scandal once &ndash; the only reason anyone wanted to read it? <br><br>Lizzie: Mentioning bone and Monica in the same sentence? Why not just come out and say that's the only reason you picked it up, perv? <br><br>Corinne: I never touched the thing. But while we're on the subject, how can you support a woman who put up with her husband getting extramarital BJs? Point Barack! <br><br>Lizzie: Beejay-schmeejay. Hillary allowed the situation to give the country a better grasp of the dynamics of the word &ldquo;is.&rdquo; She's a bibliophile. Besides, if it had been Obama, his crazy wife would have put out one of his cigarettes on his arm. Point Hillary! <br><br>Corinne: Crazy? Would you rather have Bill as your First Lady? <br><br>Lizzie: I'd take Bill as my first anything. <br><br>Corinne: Whore. So far Barack and Quivering Eyebrow are tied two to two . <br><br>Lizzie: What about the fact that Hillary is for universal health care? <br><br>Corinne: I'm sure Barack wants good health care for everyone, too. <br><br>Lizzie: Are you? <br><br>Corinne: Um, sure. He's said it a million times in his amazing speeches. He's the single most inspirational political candidate I've ever seen at a podium. So much better than Hillary's robot voice. <br><br>Lizzie: I'll concede that the BBC, which reports more substantively on American politics than America , observed that Barack supporters vote out of a sense of inspiration while Hillary supporters vote out of a sense of obligation. <br><br>But the &ldquo;galvanized youth&rdquo; will learn that political inspiration fades and disillusionment sets in quickly. Why not vote for Hillary, who has a realistic vision on which she can deliver? Score one more for Hillary. <br><br>Corinne: So what? Obama's dad is from Kenya . You know how much political cred he'll have with other nations' leaders? It's well documented that foreign people like other foreign people. Score one from the Russian judge. <br><br>Lizzie: Right, like Israelis and Palestinians? With that line of thinking, we'll end up with Vice President Bono and Secretary of State Angelina Jolie. Then we'd have streets with no names filled with East Asian babies. <br><br>Corinne: It's going to be Vice President Oprah. Get it right. Foreign politics aside, the bottom line is Obama has an enigmatic personality, and all walks of life can relate to him. Hillary's been in the game so long, she's like an emotionless blond political machine covered in Aquanet and tweed. <br><br>Lizzie: Emotionless? She put blood, sweat, and tears into her campaign. We nearly saw the tears during the New Hampshire primary. Prove me wrong. <br><br>Corinne: All I know is if Barack and Hillary were at the Brew and View watching &ldquo;Steel Magnolias,&rdquo; Barack would be grabbing for a Puffs Plus when Sally Field goes on her &ldquo;my baby's gone&rdquo; rant, and Hillary would be checking her BlackBerry for poll updates. <br><br>Lizzie: That's because Hillary's not gay. Let's get back to some actual issues. <br><br>Corinne: Fine. Let's discuss the fact that if either of them becomes president, they'll either be the first female president or the first black president. Does that really matter? <br><br>Lizzie: Unfortunately, sexism and racism will still exist no matter who wins. But I think the popularity of their campaigns shows that both issues are being combated. Point for each candidate. <br><br>Corinne: Toosh. <br><br>Lizzie: What about skills? Bill plays the sax. George Bush (the first one) sky dives for his birthdays. Does either candidate possess a skill that makes him/her relatable and fun? <br><br>Corinne: Well, Obama used to smoke, so that's cool. I don't know about Hillary. <br><br>Lizzie: I hear she's a mean speed walker. I think that's minus a point each. <br><br>Corinne: So that leaves us at a tie at three points each. How do we decide a winner? <br><br>Lizzie: Well, either way, everyone wins now that the Bush dynasty is coming to an end. <br><br>Corinne: Cheers to that. More sauvignon blanc? <br><br>Lizzie: Absolutely. </p></body></html></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[In Which I Disparage Multiple Lands]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2008/01/in-which-i-disparage-multiple-lands.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2008/01/in-which-i-disparage-multiple-lands.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 21 Jan 2008 06:41:59 +0700</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2008/01/in-which-i-disparage-multiple-lands.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Untitled Document.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--> [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div id="812033964315390" align="left" style="width: 100%; overflow-y: hidden;"><html><head><title>Untitled Document</title><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><style type="text/css">.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--></style></head><body><p align="justify" class="style1"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/3825498.jpg" align="left"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/673985.jpg" alt="A" align="left"> list of six places I pretend I would like to visit when I would honestly rather go to a Sandals resort in the Caribbean: <br>  <br>  <strong>1</strong>. Nepal/Tibet &ndash; Sounds really Zen and hip to say you want to visit either. Why I would hate it: Well, technically, Maoist rebels and the Chinese government make visiting both countries dangerous, if not impossible, but more importantly &ndash; really? A day-long plane ride and then almost unavoidable elevation sickness? As exciting as having my own sherpa would be, no thanks. <br><br><strong>2</strong>. Anywhere in South America &ndash; First of all, did you see that movie with Meg Ryan and Russell Crowe? (OK, probably not.) It is an uncontested fact that guerrillas are waiting to kidnap you in every square foot of South America . Plus, chicks in Brazil have access to cheap plastic surgery, while I have access to cheap Ding Dongs. <br><br><strong>3</strong>. Washington, D.C. &ndash; The history, the significance, the throbbing political pulse of Capitol Hill. Every American should visit once, like pilgrims to the Mecca of democracy. In reality, a giant Abe and a phallic ode to the first president are no match for cabana boys and white sands. I'll be staying away (at least until I can visit the White House when it's inhabited by a president who can pronounce disarmament). <br><br><strong>4</strong>. China &ndash; Everyone's jumping on the imminent-future-super power China bandwagon right now, and it's full of gorgeous temples, thriving metropolises, and varying landscapes. You know what else it's full of? People whose average height is six inches shorter than me. I can visit the grade school down the street if I feel like playing giant. <br><br><strong>5</strong>. India &ndash; I have an ardent belief that cows are on this planet to provide us tasty cheeseburgers. I just don't think I would get along with a culture of people who disagree. Albeit on a dateless Saturday night, I sometimes wonder if there might be something to that whole arranged marriage thing. <br><br><strong>6</strong>. Disney World &ndash; Why must I pretend I would like to visit Disney World? Because if the Disney spies hear you doubting The Disney, you get carted away by men in mouse ears to a place far worse than Guantanamo Bay. A place where &ldquo;It's a Small World&rdquo; plays on a continuous loop and they use scalpels to adhere a smile permanently to your face. I have it on good authority that there is an unmarked building on the outskirts of Orlando , the insides of which closely resemble something straight out of <em>1984</em>. <br><br>Disney World is not the happiest place on Earth; it's one arm of a megacorporation that has succeeded in creatively lobotomizing generations of Americans. Too harsh? OK, you stand in that three-hour line for Space Mountain and tell me you don't feel like you're queuing for bread in a communist country controlled by the cheer police. There's a reason EuroDisney is a failure &ndash; Europeans have better taste. <br><br>Still don't believe Disney is just one big Maytag set on &ldquo;brainwash&rdquo;? Two words: Johnny Depp. They got Johnny fucking Depp, man. </p></body></html></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Letter to the #8 Bus Driver]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/12/letter-to-the-8-bus-driver.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/12/letter-to-the-8-bus-driver.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Mon, 17 Dec 2007 07:07:51 +0700</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/12/letter-to-the-8-bus-driver.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Untitled Document.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--> [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div id="570866051536525" align="left" style="width: 100%; overflow-y: hidden;"><html><head><title>Untitled Document</title><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><style type="text/css">.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--></style></head><body><div align="justify"><span class="style1"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/7632100.jpg" align="left"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/1318900.jpg" alt="T" align="left">o the #8 Halsted bus driver who sings Christmas carols over the intercom:<br>  <br>  Thank you. I've only had the pleasure of riding on your bus once, but I believe it may be the highlight of my holiday season.<br>  <br>  Those of us who ride the #8 daily are probably the most frustrated CTA customers in the city. The 30-minute waits in the blustery Chicago wind, the 10 minutes we spend zooming and braking just to get through that satanic six-way intersection at Milwaukee and Grand. The windows that refuse to close, the odorous cranky guy who keeps asking the time. They're enough to make you actually consider giving up your Honda Civic's precious Lincoln Park parking space and paying for a spot near the office. (OK fine, my employer would pay for parking; I just find it difficult to read the newspaper while navigating around the biwheeled maniacs in the bike lane.)<br>  <br>  So I ride the #8, the &ldquo;ugly bus&rdquo; as my coworkers and I refer to it, to and fro, day after day. Sometimes I get a &ldquo;Watch your step&rdquo; from the driver. Every once in a while a &ldquo;Have a nice day.&rdquo; Usually, it's &ldquo;Move to the back so that everyone (more people than should ever safely inhabit a moving vehicle) can get on the bus! Move (you Starbucks-swilling Lakeview assholes who make my working life even more of a living hell with every second you drone on into your Razr about Barry's wine party last night, oh, and you, too, smelly crack monger) to the back!&rdquo; <br>  <br>  But then there's you, carol-singing bus driver who refers to yourself as &ldquo;OBJ&rdquo; &ndash; Original Bus Jockey. Even though I could clearly see the intersection of Hooker and Halsted out of the dirt-streaked window, you transported me to smooth-sounding, reindeer-trodden snowscapes on the &ldquo;WBUS of the CTA.&rdquo; Sure, you didn't know all of the words to &ldquo;The Christmas Song.&rdquo; Sure, your vibrato could use some work. No matter. There was unaffected joy in your voice. It wasn't false; it wasn't ironic; and it didn't give a snowman's turd what anyone else thought.<br>  <br>  Forget all of the P.C. nonsense surrounding Christmas &ndash; the &ldquo;Happy Holidays&rdquo; versus &ldquo;Merry Christmases.&rdquo; I, myself, have dubious feelings about the whole Christianity thing, and I certainly detest having Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the rest of their ilk crammed down my throat.<br>  <br>  The point is, that Tuesday morning on the bus, thanks to you, my agnostic tendencies were immaterial. And I'll challenge any Scrooge to a cage match who gives you flak regarding your mobile vocal jubilance. You obviously think this time of year is something to celebrate. Even if your passengers don't want to celebrate the birth of Jesus, or even believe there was a Jesus, I hope with all sincerity that they appreciate your buoyance and humor.<br>  <br>  I was smiling all the way to Washington/Randolph, and so were a great deal of my fellow #8 passengers. (I will not even go into my thoughts on the iPod drones who populate half of all public transportation seats these days, who most likely couldn't even hear you, let alone the sounds of life in general passing them by as they listen to the same Fergie remix for the 48th time. Oh and so help me Lucifer if they did hear you and then turned up the headset volume &ndash; cage match.)<br>  <br>  For most #8 passengers, every weekday morning is the same &ndash; same wardrobe from which to choose, same nonfat latte, same tragic headlines, same traffic jams, same confining office walls bearing down on us when we do finally arrive at work. And always, same ugly bus. But you made a difference. You made my crowded seat a place to prize, rather than simply to pass an aggravating span of time.<br>  <br>  So thank you, OBJ. Merry Christmas to you, too.<br>  <br>  Sincerely,<br>  <br>  Corinne</span></div></body></html></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[A Collection of Tom Cruise Haiku]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/12/a-collection-of-tom-cruise-haiku.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/12/a-collection-of-tom-cruise-haiku.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Sat, 01 Dec 2007 17:15:30 +0700</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/12/a-collection-of-tom-cruise-haiku.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Untitled Document.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}-->ittle man, big grin [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div id="819394032093894" align="left" style="width: 100%; overflow-y: hidden;"><html><head><title>Untitled Document</title><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><style type="text/css">.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--></style></head><body><div align="justify"><span class="style1"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/3136547.jpg" alt="L" align="left">ittle man, big grin<br>  If his lifts were tall enough <br>  Could he find a clue?<br>  <br>  I thought eyes deceived <br>  When a dwarf snatched my Zoloft <br>  But it was Tom Cruise<br>  <br>  Demons in my ears? <br>  It's just Tom's fake Irish brogue <br>  In Far and Away<br>  <br>  Get Lauer meds, quick <br>  Hope he didn't catch some crazy <br>  Talking to Tom Cruise<br>  <br>  It's risky business <br>  Letting Scientologists <br>  Do&hellip;hmm, anything<br>  <br>  Hey you, Mr. Cruise <br>  Gary Busey called and he <br>  Wants his crazy back</span></div></body></html></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[Attack of the Bathtub Jellyfish]]></title><link><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/11/attack-of-the-bathtub-jellyfish.html]]></link><comments><![CDATA[http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/11/attack-of-the-bathtub-jellyfish.html#comments]]></comments><pubDate>Thu, 08 Nov 2007 15:43:27 +0700</pubDate><category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category><guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.waywarduncle.com/8/post/2007/11/attack-of-the-bathtub-jellyfish.html</guid><description><![CDATA[Untitled Document.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}-->notice the jellyfish j [...] ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<div ><div id="206195391375546" align="left" style="width: 100%; overflow-y: hidden;"><html><head><title>Untitled Document</title><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><style type="text/css">.style1 {	font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;	font-size: 10pt;	color: #000000;}--></style></head><body><div align="justify"><span class="style1"><img src="http://www.weebly.com/uploads/2/1/0/1/210179/6416526.jpg" alt="I" align="left">notice the jellyfish just in time. My bare foot has just cleared the side of the bathtub when I spot a small bluish something floating in the shallow current the shower spray has created.<br>  <br>  It takes a moment to comprehend what I've seen. What is it doing in a Chicago apartment? Are there jellyfish in Lake Michigan? Even if there were, the lake is near freezing right now. Jellyfish surely cannot survive such temperatures. The only time I've seen one was in Boston Harbor; even that surprised me. My experience with these animals otherwise has been confined to sitcom &ldquo;the gang goes on a beach vacation&rdquo; episodes.<br>  <br>  Nevertheless, there is a tiny jellyfish floating in my bathtub. What to do with it? I can't touch it with bare hands, of course. Maybe a Tupperware container, then the Dumpster. But should I tell someone, the animal authority types? Should Chicagoans be warned that there is a potentially rampant jellyfish problem in the city? I mean, if it can happen in Lincoln Park, it can happen anywhere. Will people think it's strange that I shower at 11:30 at night?<br>  <br>  Another one. Suddenly another tiny creature has emerged from the drain. I definitely need to tell someone about this. I shouldn't be naked right now. Skin exposure is not smart when surrounded by jellyfish.<br>  <br>  Thirty seconds later, fully clothed and on my knees next to the tub, I call the best person I can think of to assist with a bizarre situation.<br>  <br>&ldquo;Russ, you are not going to believe this,&rdquo; I tell him.<br><br>&ldquo;Oh God, are you drunk?&rdquo; he asks.<br><br>&ldquo;No, not tonight. Russ, there are two jellyfish in my tub. What do I do?&rdquo; <br><br>&ldquo;There are no jellyfish in your tub, you idiot,&rdquo; he says, laughing that this-is-so-amusing-I'm-pretending-I-can't-breathe chortle that I sometimes love but usually hate. &ldquo;Maybe you should clean your goddamn bathroom; I know you haven't done it in a month.&rdquo; <br><br>&ldquo;True, but this is not soap scum; these are honest-to-goodness baby jellyfish. In my tub. In the city. Who do you contact about this sort of thing?&rdquo; <br><br>&ldquo;Oh hell, I don't know. Just flush them down the drain.<br><br>&ldquo;Did I tell you what happened when I was stalking the hot bartender last night?&rdquo; Oh hell, I should have known he'd be useless. &ldquo;Totally ended up at Berlin getting a BJ on the dance floor from his friend.&rdquo; <br><br>  Click. Why do I ever call him? He's never helpful. I must remember he's only good for two things &ndash; drinking and, well, drinking. One thing.<br>  <br>  Jellyfish. Nearing midnight with two jellyfish in my apartment. Here's what I'm going to do. Trap them in Gladware with enough water to survive, then call animal control in the morning. Probably should call my landlord as well. And maybe PETA. And my alderman (woman? No idea). This is an abomination that the fair people of Chicago should be aware of. Forget the ridiculous ban on foie gras, there are jellyfish loose in the city.<br>  <br>  Must not mention idiocy of foie gras ban to PETA.<br>  <br>  OK, corralling baby jellyfish into a square plastic container is not as difficult as I had imagined. The blue lid is firmly locked on the container, and I am much calmer. I peer at them through the transparent plastic. They're actually quite beautiful and fragile, floating around each other near the &ldquo;Glad&rdquo; label. Maybe I should have taken photos while they were still in the tub; this does sound a tad crazy. Too late now; I'm not letting these beasts out of their makeshift aquarium.<br>  <br>  I take my shower with the drain stopper firmly in place, ankle-deep soapy water be damned. The moment of truth, when I pull the plug expecting a drove of jellyfish (gaggle? horde? What on earth do you call a bunch of jellyfish?) to fill the tub, is anticlimactic. Just the counterclockwise swirl of drain water and then nothing.</span></div></body></html></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>
