Moving Timez and Squirrlz and Boring Citiez!

I've been living in what my former roommates affectionately called "The Hole" for nearly three years now. That time is almost over. Our lease is up at the end of April, and we're moving up and beyond into the ether of not having roommates. This, people have told us, is what people in their 30s do. Seems extravagant, I know, but one must follow the status quo.

The first apartment we looked at was meh, what with the carpeting and ugly kitchen. But then today we saw this beautiful thing, with a front porch and windows that open!


And not to mention a view of something other than a port-o-potty.


Let's all hold our collective noses until Mr. Landlord says that he wants us for sure.


BONUSBONUSBONUS SQUIRREL EATING PIZZA


SUPERBONUSDEFFOREVIEW The Washington Post ("WaPo") travel section this weekend tried to prove that Salt Lake City does indeed have a nightlife, regardless of what the naysayers naysay. Nice lede, WaPo!

What is so "lively," you ask? Well, it seems that "Jersey Sports Grill" is. Only the appetizers they ordered never came. So is "Zanzibar," except for the fact that the cocktails were gross. And finally, "Port O'Call," a place that had lots of people in line.

I lived in Salt Lake City for a year. In fact, I lived in Salt Lake City for the year when the Olympics were there, which is probably the best possible year for somebody who wants to not be bored in Utah. I bartended in Salt Lake City at a pool hall called "Ya' Buts," formerly called "Spanky's," which was formerly an adult theater. It is now a parking lot. RIP, Ya' Buts. You gave me $35 in income every Monday night, give or take.


Guess what I did for fun in Salt Lake City? I went to Nevada and gambled. The only thing good about Salt Lake City, people, is the meth. Believe it.