It’s All About the O; Oil

I flew to Chicago over the weekend for a bachelor party. And while I’d love to give you all the dirty detailsof Saturday night’s exploits, I’m afraid that the information could “get into the wrong hands,” if you know what I mean.

In any case, as I was waiting at O’Hare for my flight to arrive, my eyes, bloodshot and half closed, my head pounding, the taste of cheap alcohol in my mouth, and the stench of cigarettes and strippers lingering on my clothes, a headline on the Chicago Tribune caught my eye. The headline read: “Good news about high gas prices.”
Good news? Was there anyway I was passing this one up? No way.

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