Hummus Ho

Wow, long time no see you guys!  I've been very busy and haven't gotten the time to sit down and write for you.  J fucking K I've been sitting on my ass watching tv and being trash and didn't you hear me say I would put this blog out whenever I wanted sweetie??  So now, almost a month later, let's get back into it, shall we?  A couple things I've been up to since last we spoke: watched all of 13 Reasons Why (Cl@y J3Ns3N iZ L1Fe) ZOMG), went rock climbing a couple times but I only climb on the kids wall cause I truly think that rock climbing is foolish and dangerous, and I went to Elly's Pancake House where they were doing a 2 Broke Girls takeover (a show which, in my opinion, is a leading cause of getting Trump elected).  I also went to Disney World, spent not a second of it sober and came up with some great tips and tricks to make the most out of your Disney trip if you don't manage to get kicked out.  But we'll get into that another time.

Something happened this past week, though, that really inspired me to hop back on here and get to work.  It's one of those stories that really stick with me, ya know what I mean.  It all started when I was a wee little lad, bright eyed and on day 3 of 4 days of last years Lollapalooza.  I hope you know what I mean when I say "bright eyed."  Anyway, this guy I know, who matched with me on Tinder, texted me and wanted to "meet up".  I, unknowingly, said "sure, I'm at the Perry's stage (duh) hmu."  He must've literally sprinted to me because he showed up within 5 minutes, I kid you not.  Cut to him making out with my neck and trying to grab my dick in BROAD DAYLIGHT at THREE O' CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON.  I'm sorry, but that is unacceptable.  We all know to leave that behavior for when the sun goes down right?  As a day normally goes at Lollapalooza, you lose people, or more accurate, you ditch people at Disclosure and run to rage at Hardwell.  The next interaction I had with this gentleman was on Halloween, when I let it slip that I was at Progress Bar and again, he was there within 5 minutes.  The fastest man alive?  

Alright, so now you have a little background.  I'd like to mention that we've yet to actually do anything together.  One could call me a ditcher.  I ditch.  It's what I do.  I'm not perfect.  Anyway, Saturday night I was out and about, up to my usual antics and ruining every encounter I had with any cute guy I was talking to.  One guy even asked me later what his name was, which I thought was an unfair question.  Anyway, I said hey, why not just hit up this guy, maybe it's just the setting that hasn't worked in our favor.  He was at my house in, let's say 6 minutes (further confirming him being the fastest man alive).  Anyway, we were making out a bit when he asked if he could wear one of my shirts cause he … didn't want to wear his anymore?  Ok, odd, I said, but here's a tank top sure.  Next red flag was him saying to me "Can I please spank you?  I really, really want to spank you."  At least he asked nicely?  Let me clarify that we are still fully clothed at this point (in my clothes).  Now we come to the unforgivable, horrible, no good deed.  He said to me "hey, do you have any mouthwash?  I need to freshen up."  Okkkkkk I don't have any mouthwash but you can use my toothpaste and your finger if you really want…  He heads into the bathroom, and comes out, and to my literal horror, he is BRUSHING HIS TEETH WITH MY TOOTHBRUSH.  HOW FUCKING GROSS.  NOW I HAVE TO BUY A NEW TOOTHBRUSH. THNXXXXXX.  This is when I really have to dig into my acting skills, pretend to be sooooo drunk omg, and fall asleep.  Look, I know that this story might be a little mean, but literally you ruin my toothbrush I WILL EXPOSE YOU.  

At this point, you're probably wondering why I'm eating hummus with a spoon in these pictures.  Are you?  Is it kooky?  Well, let me explain.  A girl came to do a hummus sample at my work place and she asked if anybody we knew had a blog or anything on social media that she could send some free hummus to.  Oh, sweetie.  Honey.  Darling.  My gay little ears perked right the fuck up.  A free sampling of hummus later and here I am shoveling Roasted Red Pepper Hummus from Cava down my throat.  It's mad good.  Well, it would be mad good with a carrot or a chip or like, idk a piece of broccoli or some shit.  I don't have the funds to buy any of these things because I used every little cent to buy tickets to as many music festivals as I possibly can because essentially I'm a rave thot.  Let me give you a little advice, warm hummus isn't as good when you suck it down on a spoon.  I bet you're also wondering why I look like a Easter basket when Easter was two weeks ago.  Well, it's never too late to look like Easter vomit, I say!  Funny enough, this shirt isn't cut out from the tent of a trashy circus, it's from Buffalo Exchange.  The $5 shoes are from the Urban surplus store, where you can always find a good deal and a good pair of shoes that slice your ankles because they are cheaply made.  I'm amazing at promotions aren't I??  Till next time, or more likely, next month!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole, 

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by @stephen_aaron

pics by @stephen_aaron

In Transit

Well, I guess it's time to get off my lazy ass and write this shit blog.  I truly have no excuse this time because I'm home sick with food poisoning and have literally nothing else to do so here we go.  Fuck you @Oyster Bah.  Side note: raise your hand if you've ever invited a guy over, cooked him dinner, watched a movie, slept over and then spent the whole night throwing up and shitting your brains out!  Highly recommended!  In today's post I'd like to take you on the Brown Line and share some of my stories from the trains and busses in the Windy City.  The Chicago CTA is tough egg to crack, but I have a couple tips and tricks for you to get thru it.  In addition, I want to show you how to dress in your best riff raff street rat chic.

Tip number one: try not to throw things.  Specifically, the man who threw his prosthetic leg down the aisle of the 76 bus one blistery afternoon.  True story.  It happened when I boarded the bus, buzzed my transit card, and looked down to find a literal plastic leg at my feet.  Apparently there had been a fight or something and Peggy the Pirate decided it would be best to chuck a limb at the bus driver.  He was quickly escorted out, leg and all, and shouted a hearty "FUCK YOU" at me and the driver.  Not sure why I got lumped into that but I probably deserved it.  I definitely deserve it for wearing this wrinkly-ass jacket from REI and no I'm not a hiker or an outdoorsman in any capacity.  But it does make a good layering piece or a light jacket (it's a little Autumn-y tho).

Tip number two: be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.  I'm talking, specifically, to the woman on the 36 bus who sweetly said to me, "Move, you piece of TRASH!"  There's not much of a story to this, but more than anything I'm impressed at her ability to pick up on my aura!  How charming!  I wish I could tell you a tale of how I snapped back at her and we rumbled on the CTA, but her comment left me so stunned that I literally couldn't do anything but stand there, mouth open in shock.  Instead, lemme tell you about this sweatshirt I thrifted from my friend Dean who was going to try and sell it but nobody would take it.  That's how it found it's way into my welcoming home and I hope to show it a lot of love and care even though it is too small for me and rides up my stomach showing off my Grinch belly.

Tip number three:  All that being said about being kind and shit, it is always, ALWAYS okay to yell at people for not walking up the escalator.  Unless you are horribly crippled or horribly old, then you're lazy ass can walk up a fucking escalator.  This is really not exclusive to train stations but I have just noticed since moving back to the Midwest that people standing on escalators is a thing.  It truly boggles my mind.  That's it.  Check out these old jeans!  One of the knee holes was actually ripped in a real life situation and the other I cut out with scissors to make it look COOL and TRENDY.  Somebody told me recently that it looks like somebody punched holes into my knees so I'm not sure I did the best job, but it goes to show you that you can throw a little personality into your look without having to spend!

Last, but certainly not least, tip number four:  Don't expect anything from Ventra (the lovely people who run the CTA).  And I mean, anything.  There was an error on my Ventra card one time, when I was stuck up North to make things better, so I had to call their office, who, to my genuine surprise, didn't pick up.  I checked their hours and they weren't supposed to close for another 2 hours.  So I called again.  And then again.  On the third call I spoke with Anthony from Ventra services, who when I explained that my card wasn't working, he took a look at my account, said, "Idk why," and told me to email them for a new card.  They didn't respond to my email for 2 days.  Cut to 3 WEEKS later that I finally got a new card in the mail.  I asked if there was a way they could refund me for all the passes I'd have to buy every time I want to use the bus or train and he said, "No."  Anthony is savage af.  

Do you like the hat?  Does it make me look like a Smurf?  It does right?  I'm trying this new thing where you half-ass wear the cap and keep it barely covering your ears.  It doesn't really keep you warm but who gives a shit.  Recognize the shoes?   I feel like I should just call this blog Peacoats & Poppers & Dirty White Shoes.  BTW, all these stories were from the bus and not the train because most of my stories from the train just involve guys peeing on the floor and we've all experienced that at some point so who cares.

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by @stephen_aaron 

pics by @stephen_aaron 

The Beauty Twink of Muldoon

Want to know one way to make this blog super hard to write?  Munch on an edible on Sunday night at a JoJo concert.  Go to a Steve Aoki concert on Wednesday night.  Then drink a rainbow of different alcohol on Thursday night: was it the vodka? The Fireball? The beer? The tequila?  Then go to Joyryde at The Mid on Friday night.  It'll really get your creative juices flowing and you'll feel like a regular Shakespeare.  JK my brain feels empty and it is literally taking me 5 minutes to type each sentence.  If anybody is concerned for me than I'd say you have good instincts and to please send help.  Or at least send food.  I'm currently snacking on cold fries from last night that've been sitting out for 9 hours.

I know, I know, Steve Aoki is trash.  But did you seriously expect me to not go to his concert with Kruella, Grandtheft and Cash Cash called Lectric Leprechaun??  I'm Irish as fuck and I need to stay true to my heritage and celebrate the only way I know how.  Getting fucking CAKED!!  Plus it was at my favorite venue in Chicago the Aragon Ballroom.  If you've never been there it literally looks like Aladdin inside.  This huge ballroom with a starry sky muriel and lanterns and shit.  Check it out.  An observation:  I'm not really sure why St Patricks Day is like a 2 week thing in Chicago but I'm not complaining.  My liver is though.  What am I listening to on my new Beats headphones you ask?  Def not Ed Sheeran ;)

I thought I'd give you a super up close look at my pale blotchy face.  I went tanning on Tuesday at LA Tan for the first time because I've got a vacation coming up and I look like a skeleton.  Plus I'm not close enough to death already so I thought I'd throw skin cancer into the mix and see what happens.  It was truly  terrifying experience shutting myself in that tanning bed and I don't understand why people subject themselves to it but I'll be back next Tuesday.  Do you see the pain behind my eyes from this St Patricks Day marathon?  I got a huge boost of confidence on Wednesday when we went to a drag show after the concert and when the drag queen was passing out trinkets she took one look at me, said "Oh you really fucking need this" and gifted me a cute little sleep mask.  Not really sure what she was trying to say but I get a good and restful 4 hours of sleep every night.  How else does one look THIS GOOD.

Ok, so the outfit.  The jeans are old news.  You've seen 'em.  I rolled up the bottoms cause I guess that's a trendy thing to do.  The shirt is from American Eagle.  Ok stop.  Tale as old as time.  I mean I really don't wear THAT much American Eagle even though I do in pretty much every blog post since I've started.  This shirt though is a perfect example of how you can keep something from years ago that was trashy and stupid then, and is still trashy and stupid now, but you've gotten much MUCH cooler so you can wear it sarcastically.  Right?  These shoes, I loooooove.  I saw them at Urban for like 60 dollars but I got them from the lost and found at work.  They are about 2 sizes too big for me but finders keepers and they are cute af. My fave part of this look though is, of course, the rave bracelets I got from fellow ravers, lovingly referred to as kandi bracelets.  Rave people are the best people and each of these bracelets hold a special memory that's near and dear to my heart.  J fucking K.

Is dabbing still cool?  Jk I already know.  It's not.  I really mastered it this summer at music festivals but as we approach summer 2017, I'm looking for a new douchey move to pull attention with.  If anybody has any ideas or dick pics, DM me.  No but really music festival season is on the horizon and my bank account is screaming.  Who knows if I'll be able to write this blog anymore once it hits cause once I get started who knowwwwws what'll happen.  Somebody's gonna need to drag me to my computer and prop my dumb ass up to get to work.  But until then, I'll continue to write this dreadful blog even though nobody asked.  

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole, 

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by @stephen_aaron 

pics by @stephen_aaron 

Go, Go Gadget Gay Sex!

Oh wow, a gay guy writing about Grindr in his gay ass blog.  How trite!  If you aren't familiar, Grindr is an app for your phone that can find you the scuzziest dick in your immediate area.  To put it gently.  I guess I could write one of those think pieces about how bad Grindr is for the gay community and how it's tearing our society apart and blah blah blah.  Nah.  I'm currently on my sixth time re-downloading Grindr within the past couple years.  It's common for me to think to myself, "Connor, you are better than this!  You don't need old men to build up your confidence by begging to smell your dirty feet!"  But if we all take a moment to be honest with each other, who doesn't want to be solicited to be used as a dirty sex pig!

Personally, the most I've ever found on Grindr was a broken bottle.  Didn't think that's what I was gonna say, did you?  This was a couple years back in Boston so it SHOCKS me that I remember it at all.  This guy came over and we smoked a little, talked a little and before literally anything remotely — he whipped his coat off and right into the empty wine bottle sitting on the side table near my bed and it literally shattered all over the floor.  Needless to say, that ruined the mood and he was shown the door.  After he swept up the glass of course.  I mean, I wasn't the one who broke it…  In today's post I've realized the importance of having a good belt.  Something that I don't have.  See the picture above.  Looks good doesn't it?

But mostly on Grindr I get offers of up to $100 for a blowjob.  Do you think I have a fledgeling career as a hooker?  I'd probably be able to afford nicer shoes.  I think that I wore these Steve Maddens' to my senior year prom in high school.  Here's a little shocker for ya, I actually got asked to prom by a guy my senior year!  Look at that!  Does that surprise you?  It should!  It was actually a guy who was on the school news team and was doing a story about me for the Senior Edition of the "Husky Headlines".  He was filming me in class when he asked me out with a sign that folded out from under the camera.  I, however, was blind as a bat, refusing to wear my glasses in high school to not look like a loser, so I didn't know what was going on promptly ignored it for a good 5 minutes until somebody pointed it out to me.  We went to prom together and then when I tried to make out with him in the basement before the after party he got nervous and left.  He's married to a woman now and I'm still a loser.

Did you know I went to Catholic school from Kindergarten to Freshmen year of high school?  A lot of good that did me!  Still gay as fuck.  We had a uniform and everything.  Which is probably where I picked up this white v neck sweater.  Its from OLD NAVY.  I think that is actually the trashiest thing I've said on here and I've said a lot of trashy things.  But it doesn't LOOK Old Navy!  Right? …  Does it really matter where a piece is from if you're just a piece of shit anyway.

Remember when I talked about thrifting in the last post?  Well I thrifted this Zara blazer at Buffalo Exchange for 15 dollars imagine that.  That's cheaper than a blowjob on Grindr!!  Full circle!  I recently have added this blazer, along with a blue one and a black one, into my closet and they certainly make me feel sophisticated and older but actually  when do I ever wear them.  I walk dogs and work at a gym.  Who do I think I'm getting all dressed up for??  Maybe my next Grindr date?  But I think he'll probably be into my dirty feet than this cute plaid blazer.  Till next time, folks!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by @stephen_aaron

pics by @stephen_aaron

Amoxisilly

Another week, another swollen tonsil.  Strep throat that is.  I know what you're going to say, "go get your tonsils out blah blah blah" yeah yeah I've heard it all before.  My personal motto when it comes to my ol' pal streppy is to never let it get in the way of you having fun!  This past Halloween I had strep throat and it ruined my really creative costume idea (stay tuned for Halloween 2017) but when one door closes another one opens as they say.  With some last minute purchases from CVS and the costume store, wah-la!  I went as bird flu, complete with a feather boa and a medical mask and amoxicillin in my back pocket.  I also had strep at Lollapalooza two years ago and would like to formally apologize to anyone who I may have infected but what was I supposed to do, stay home??  That's very off brand for me!

Check out this cool mural I'm leaning on and looking away.  Don't I look like I just couldn't give a fuck if I tried??  So cool!  Shout out to Lisa, the doctor at the Walgreens minute clinic on Diversey and Clark who when I came in greeted me with a big smile and said, "I remember you!"  We've had this ongoing relationship for a while now and I can confidently say that she's treated my strep at least four times now.  I'm probably keeping her in business, that silly Lisa!  She was also the doctor that treated my Strepapalooza two years ago and when I told her I was going to the festival she said, "Well, I wouldn't recommend it and I would say DEFINITELY don't drink."  Aye aye doc! ;) 

I've never been much of a thrifter.  As we've discussed you'll usually find me in American Eagle garb that my mom bought for me ten years ago.  I thought I rocked it, but I guess not?  Cut to this week, I thought I'd give thrifting a try and wow did I love it!!  I went to Buffalo Exchange in Wicker Park (a little bit of a cheat when it comes to thrifting I think, but regardless) where I tried to sell some clothes.  The only thing they took was this long sleeve collar shirt that I never wore because people said I looked like Steve from Blues Clues which I wholeheartedly hope found a good home with somebody who can appreciate it and doesn't have such rude ass friends.  Of course out of all the interesting finds they had there, what I walked out with was this…

I've only owned one piece of clothing from Hollister in my entire life and you're looking at it.  Hollister always scared me as a youth.  To me their stores remind me of haunted houses but more beach?  I saw this little guy tucked among the tee shirts and I asked the girl at the front desk if it was kinda cute and ironic and she said, "For you, totally."  We'd had a prior conversation about my blog so I'm gonna choose to believe that she was referring to my brand and not being a total bitch.  She seemed so nice??

I've also never been one to wear ripped up jeans, especially ones that are sooooo ripped like these are.  I found them at Zara on sale and I thought, why not add a little angst to my look!  They are gonna be perfect for the summer, and they already are perfect for this 70 degree global warming induced February we are having rn.  I guess today's post is all about jumping out of your comfort zone!  Do something new, and even if you have an incredibly contagious infection, throw caution to the wind and go for it!  Like, look at me, I'm on top of a gross dumpster!  Like I'm not sick enough!  Till next time!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

He Loves Me He Loves U Not

I went thru a lot of titles for this post.  Originally, I wanted it to be something like "Try Sleeping in a Broken Home," which is a call to my no-makeup wearing warbly little bird Alicia Keys but I might be coming down with the flu so I'm a little tired and not in the mood to read her keyboard-ass.  So I took the easy way out and titled it a random song with the word "love" in it because, guess what, it's Valentine's Day!  Who cares? On this day of love I thought I'd bring you to a place that I hold near and dear to my heart.  Do I even need to speak his name… Ronald? 😏

Actually though, this McDonalds sucks.  This is the one on Fullerton and Halsted and let me tell you it is NOT the fancy new McDonalds next door to my apartment on Diversey.  A little shout out to them: they've never once not rolled their eyes at me when I come in exactly 1 minute before they close and they've also never not sassed me when I use one of my many free value meal cards, but BOY do they deliver.  This McDonalds served me gray chicken last Thursday night, aw how cute!!  But I just couldn't stay away, what with their beautiful Valentine's Day decorations!  I mean, just check out those paper hearts!! 

This was a big weekend for me.  The big 2-5.  15 years till 40!!  How fun!  Some tropical house at Concord Music Hall, some cool steam getting blown in my face at Prysm Nightclub, and a night in Boystown, after what felt like a mini Chicago vacation I thought I'd take it easy on Valentine's Day.  I know you were probably expecting me to have a lot of romantic pla… oh JK you know I'll be sitting on my recliner chair eating maybe-cooked frozen chicken burrito bowls from Trader Joe's even though it just hurts my stomach more and more  with each bite!  You know when you're in middle school or high school and you look around your room and you think, "Huh, maybe I've outgrown my childhood room."  Well, as I sit here with a Harry fucking Potter wand on a bookshelf and a Little Mermaid fireplace I think maybe 25 is the year I'll grow the fuck up and not be such a loser.  But probably not ;)

I've never been one to layer, more like I'm one to put on some American Eagle jeans, a Disneyland sweatshirt and some dumb sneakers.  Speaking of dumb sneakers, do you recognize these dumb sneakers?  How many blog posts can I continue to wear these in?  Let's keep score!  But back to layering.  Recently I've been trying to step my looks up and I got some good advice to layer these pieces together.  It's a pink H&M button up (but nobody needs to know that) under a sweatshirt from American Apparel (RIP).  The jeans ARE actually American Eagle.  Remember how I said I need to grow up and get out of my high school style.  Well I guess it's all about mixing and matching your garbage pieces so that they don't look like garbage Kansas outlet mall purchases.  I actually do really love these sunglasses I got from Banana Republic a couple years ago, so see I'm not hopeless!  The jean jacket, is, you guessed it, my mom's and no she's not getting it back!

With style like mine, any guy would be lucky to get with this!  Literally, any guy.  Anybody actually.  This is a cry for help and attention.  I guess you could say this whole blog is.  I've currently hit the quota of swipes that you can swipe on Tinder, which is really cute and not desperado at all.  It literally just shows a pulsing circle and says "There's no one new around you."  How comforting.  The last two Tinder dates I went on were really INCREDIBLE I thought I'd share a little about them with you today!  One guy I went on a date with wasn't out to his family and the entire conversation turned into a therapy session.  Actually a nice guy and I wish him well but not what this crazy little slut was looking for!!  Not at all!  My personal fave was a guy who came to meet me at my apartment so we could walk around Lincoln Park for a bit.  Cute idea, except it started POURING rain as soon as he got here.  Stuck in my apartment I asked what he wanted to eat and he decided that it would be really cute to run across the street and pick up a pizza from Papa Johns.  So here I am on a shitty day, on a shitty date, eating a shitty pizza.  We had nothing in common and also he had tourettes.  Not judging just making an observation.  

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Ok, but a little bit of advice here.  I guess because it's Valentine's Day I'm feeling a little sentimental and it's just something I've been thinking about a lot lately.  Feel free to skip ahead to the last picture if you don't give a fuck. The best relationships I have been in have blossomed from friendships and they were always, ALWAYS  a surprise to me.  Probably because my brain is a flat-lined "beeeeeeeep" but it's tended to be a common theme in my life.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that I feel like thinking you have a certain "type" is quite frankly bullshit.  Of course, to each his own, but why not open yourself up a little, it may surprise you.  This wouldn't be a lifestyle blog if I didn't tell you how to live your life!?  Wow, how gay was that?  Scale from 1-10.  DM me with your answer and also a dick pic.  Happy Valentine's Day!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by Stephen Aaron

pics by Stephen Aaron

Hole 30

I was feeling very uninspired this week, doing everything else BUT write this blog.  I mean, I took these pictures weeks ago!  The draft for this blog post has been sitting here on my Squarespace, a bitter reminder of my inability to actually follow thru on goals I set for myself.  Then, Monday night, LIGHTBULB!  We went to Musical Mondays at Sidetrack in Boystown.  And yes, it's JUST as gay as it sounds.  It's always a guarantee that I'm going to see 2 people I want to see and 5 people I don't whenever I go to Musical Mondays.  It's like walking into a trap every time.  Anyway, my friend Alissa ordered an Angry Orchard at the bar, and I had a very primetime drama-like flashback.  I came to, and thought to myself, "Oh my god, this sad world needs Peacoats and Poppers!"  

A little context, one time when I was like 12 or 13 my parents went to Hawaii without me.  To make that a little more salty, I was also the lead role in a musical called HONK!  I played the Ugly Duckling and without my parents love and support from the audience I felt both ugly inside and out, but that's neither here nor there.  They hired a babysitter to watch me and drive me around and stuff and the only thing that I actually remember from that week is when she took me to the liquor store and told me that I could pick something for myself.  Cute!  I decided to go with a 6 pack of something called Angry Orchard.  "Alcoholic apple juice?  Sounds yummy," my prepubescent self thought.  My babysitter and her friend spent the rest of the night calling me a pussy for drinking a pussy drink, so needless to say I learned my lesson.  When Alissa ordered said pussy drink, it jogged my memory, and most importantly, got these old creative juices flowing.  So thanks Alissa!  ;)

Everybody's got their personal style.  Whether you're a New York socialite who's got a bevy of jackets, scarves, shoes for every occasion, and it's so easy for you to throw together a look that's got everybody on Instagram commenting, "Love it! 🔝🔝🔝"  Or you're a little rawr xxx xoxo girl in Waukesha, Wisconsin wearing black checkered Vans and twisting the purple streak in your hair around your tiny little finger.  Or you're like me!  I throw on the first thing I grab in my closet, put on a pair of wrinkly American Eagle jeans, and lace up brown worker boots that should have been thrown away years ago (two to be exact).  They are actually so gross and beat up that I'm wearing them for the play I'm in right now where I play a dirty punk Irish kid.  Come check out their final performance at the Athenaeum Theatre in The Beauty Queen of Leenane, February 23rd thru March 25th.  See dad, I'm working!!  I actually do really love this turtleneck.  My grandma knitted it for my mom and I stole it from my mom so I have a strong sentimental attachment to it.  The amount of times I've worn it out is 0.  Thanks G-Ma!  RIP!

Everybody's doing Whole 30 and I just ate a whole pizza!  No, seriously, I feel like 75% of the people I know are doing some kind of weird diet, whether its Whole 30, Paleo, Seattle Suttons, and I'm sitting over here scratching my scalp like, "why?"  I know science says if you eat better you feel better, but I just eat like shit, feel like shit, but as long as I'm having fun then who cares if I have a heart attack at age 35??  My current diet consists of microwave-heated Paneer Tikka Masala from Trader Joes (which I'm still not entirely sure what paneer is), smelly grapes, knock-off 7-Up called Mist Twist, and a million healthy things that I buy from the grocery store that I never actually eat and have to throw out because they get moldy and spoiled.  My manager at work is always making snide remarks about how I always come in starving, but my theory is if you're not starving then you're not WINNING!  

Let's just say that when I DO eat, I like to not pay for it.  That philosophy leads to a lot of crumbs in my pockets if you know what I mean.  The hot bar at Plum Market is where I really go crazy.  It's like a game for me: how many egg rolls can I stuff into my pants?  Can I get away with buying a 1 dollar meatball that they put a price sticker on and then fill the rest of the box to the brim with other stuff?  Look, I know this might not be the most fool-proof idea, but I'm just trying to give my avid readers a few pointers on how to save when they grocery shop!  I think my thieving ways stems back to when I used to work at Cold Stone.  Yes, I worked at Cold Stone.  No, I never sang for people who tipped.  Yes, I still took those tips.  If you dig deep into my Instagram you'll find a bunch of pictures I took of different creations I made at Cold Stone which, if I say so myself, surpassed the stores' own creations and more so.  Fuck Birthday Cake Remix, it sucks.  The amount of buckets of ice cream I would take home was actually disgusting, but my summer there could whole heartedly be titled "A Stoner's Dream."

The last thing I'll say before I wrap it up is how important I think it is to shop LOCAL people!! Check out this little bodega that I took these pictures at, for instance.  It's on the corner of Roscoe and Halsted, nestled in the heart of Boystown, and the employees here are so charming, the ambience is so Chicago-chique, it is not to be missed.  Why grocery shop in a boring Whole Foods when you'll miss out on the questionable pizza they've been heating for 5 days at 7/11!  Pick up a pack of Marbolo's and you'll really feel like GiGi Hadid.  You go, girl!  Alright so that's it.  It's my birthday weekend this weekend, did you know?  Ok, so no big gifts, ok, I'm not asking for much.  All I ask is that you donate to a cause that's near and dear to my heart, my personal Venom account.  If you could send anywhere between 5-20 dollars, you'd be helping an amazing little boy have an unforgettable 25th birthday.  Till next time!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 photos by Stephen Davalos 

photos by Stephen Davalos 

I'm Still Alice

Here I sit on a Sunday night, frantically working on my blog because Alissa said to me this morning, "We haven't heard from Peacoats and Poppers lately."  Did you miss me saying that I would put this blog out whenever I fucking want??  Does anybody even read this??  Hello??  Well, I guess it doesn't really matter anymore because this blog has become somewhat therapeutic for me.  I get to talk about all the things I love to do, I get to take fun pictures in fun places and I can relive some of my favorite memories.  A very hard thing to do, seeing as how my memory isn't quite like it used to be anymore.  Today I thought I'd take you to a cute little hole in the wall called Goddess and the Baker after I took a SoulCycle class.  How fucking basic is that??  The spin class would explain my shiny red face!  That, or somebody needs to gift me a box of oil wipes for my birthday!  It's coming up soon! ;)

After a weekend like this I definitely needed some R & R with my brain.  On Friday night we went to what's quickly becoming our second home Concord Music Hall to see the DJ Borgeous.  Listen to his song "Tsunami" while you're reading this, and then go get your ears checked cause you might start losing your hearing.  God knows I can't hear shit.  One thing that I've recently discovered is that I may have a slight case of early onset Alzheimers.  Think Still Alice but more ravey and thotty.  It's something that I've come to accept, along with my crooked pinky finger and my unwillingness to work out leading to bed sores.  An app that I've come across is Lumosity and it's working wonders!  You get to play these little games that are supposed to help your brain with retention, thought-processes and other shit like that.  You can only play three games a day before they ask you to pay for a subscription which is something ridiculous like 10 dollars a month.  I mean, I care about my brain, but not THAT much.  (*I truly don't know if these Lumosity games are helping my brain but I'm looking for all the help I can get in that department so any suggestions y'all can throw at me I'll gladly take.  Aside from the obvious…)

As I sat here at Goddess and the Baker I thought it would be fun to whip out a pen and a napkin and show you guys some of my smartz!  The theme for this week really got me thinking about my time in school.  An exemplary student, something I can honestly say I've never been.  I remember asking my mom one time why I needed to learn math which she replied with something about how it would be important for my job when I grew up.  I said, "but I'm gonna be famous so let's figure out a different excuse as to why I need to learn this shit."  But I said it more 10-year-old-y.  I will say that I was able to crank out a few good essays every now and then.  One time in 6th grade my teacher failed my project because she thought that I plagiarized the entire thing.  Which I just very much didn't and had to have my mom call and explain that she had watched me do the project so her accusations were v false.  Personally, I think it was because I was a little homo boy in the Catholic school system and was a victim of a hate crime in that moment, but to each his own.  That being said, I'm pretty sure I cheated on like 85% of tests.  Honesty is the best policy you guys!

How my little shit for brains self got into any college is a miracle.  Some of you might not know that I went to an acting conservatory in Boston for college, which explains my sparkling personality.  I'll say this for the reputable Boston Conservatory, you don't learn shit about anything unless it has something to do with Zip Zap Zop or some bullshit musical.  Ok that's harsh.  I learned a lot about acting, that was great.  But we read fucking Huck Finn in our liberal arts classes, like come the fuck on.  We had to take these classes as a way for the school to give us some semblance of an education, they included, but were not limited to, classes such as History of Cinema (watched movies the whole time), Into the Wild (?????? couldn't tell you what this class was about), and a big doozy:  Neuroscience.  So fucking hard.  Looking back on it now, and in the spirit of this blogs theme, I guess I should have payed attention more.  Failed that one big time.  Had to take an online course in Art History over the summer with a couple of my friends and I won't go into that but BOY was that a HOOT.  

We've come to the story that I've been DYING to tell you, and it's a long one so bare with me.  It's probably one of my favorite stories from college and I'd like to first and formally apologize to everyone involved, but mainly the teacher (who I won't name out of respect but I'm sure will rip my ass apart for telling this).  Let me set the scene, it's second semester senior year so you know I already don't give a fuck at this point.  My roommate Julie and I were looking for a class to take for our science credit, and one of our favorite teachers reached out with a new course he was teaching: Math and Music described, "how math influences and shapes music".  "It'll be easy," he said.  The very first day of class I can tell you I walked out of that room not knowing a SINGLE. FUCKING. THING. that he was talking about.  Numbers, algorithms, division, fractions?  This continued on throughout the entire semester.  I'd finally faced a class that I couldn't cheat in because I quite literally did not know what anybody was talking about.  Cut to the final project at the end of the semester, in which we were asked to, using math, build an instrument out of household materials.  Sounds easy?  Julie and I paired ourselves together, mistake number one as I wouldn't trust us to follow a map let alone build a guitar, which we had chosen for our instrument.  I think it was two nights before it was due (might have been the night before but like I said, my memory isn't too sharp these days), that we decided wow, we have to get wood from the hardware store?  We have to measure out rubber bands?  No, no, too hard.  

We concluded that instead we'd make a pan flute out of straws.  Now, this, we definitely did the night before.  We went and got a bunch of straws from Dunkin' Donuts along with two XL iced coffees (DUH DUNKIN ISNT THE SAME OUTSIDE OF BOSTON IT WAS LIKE CRACK TO US THEN).  We sat in the living room for at least an hour trying to figure out how to do this, when we finally resorted to YouTube to find a video that would show us how.  I've included the URL to the video for reference at the bottom of the blog.  We needed to have a fully fleshed out power point that showed how we made the flute and most importantly, the math we used to make it.  My then boyfriend Michael literally MADE UP the math.  Shouted out some numbers for us.  We wrote them down.  That was what we put in the power point.  When we got to class that day we were pretty freaked.  We thought if only we can be charming and funny, maybe we'll skate by.  I'll mention that the pan flutes didn't even FUCKING work.  We got really scared when this girl came up with her homemade VIOLIN that she made from wood or some crap.  However, shit really hit the fan when the two girls who's presentation was right before ours came up and showed the class their very functional, very factual slide show for the PAN FLUTE THEY MADE OUT OF PCP PIPE.  It really felt like a personal attack when, during their presentation, they said, "A fun arts and crafts thing that you can do with your kids is make pan flutes out of straws!"  And then proceeded to show THE SAME YOUTUBE VIDEO THAT WE USED TO MAKE THE FUCKING THING.  Needless to say, we told a lot of jokes during the presentation.  Success?  I'm pretty sure our teacher passed us for the class with a note essentially saying "just get the fuck out of here."  Sorry mom.  Yikes.

Now, let's talk about this outfit.  But do I have to?  It's horrible.  Honestly, horrible.  Initially, I wanted to wear this patterned sweater vest over the blue button up.  I got it while I was home in Kansas City and I thought it would be such a cute edition to my wardrobe to kinda class things up a bit.  As soon as I put it on, however, my amazing and supportive friends nicely pointed out that I looked like Mr. Rogers.  Did I say they were nice about it?  JK, they were dicks.  So here I stand, on the streets of Chicago, in an outfit that I didn't plan on, but I had to deal with.  I'm so flexible!  Do I look like my dad?  I think I do.  In fact, that's my dad's belt I stole.  You'll recognize those shoes from my New Years post, and you don't have to look too closely to notice the grime that I said covered them.  At this point they are v Pig Pen from Charlie Brown aesthetic.  I actually love this jacket from REI I'm wearing, and totally forgot I had it but it's kind of Aspen-y don't you agree.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the stories from my younger years and this stupid outfit.  Till next time!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by Dean Daneluzzi

pics by Dean Daneluzzi

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaymX3qJRbQ

^^ Here you go guys!! Make your own straw pan flutes!  In the words of those 12 year old girls Anissa and Morgan who killed their friend because Slenderman told her to do it, "Go ballistic!"

Puppy Play

Thank God I picked this beautiful, soggy day to do an outdoor photoshoot.  Especially one where I'm being pulled around in the fucking mud by a 110 pound furry monster.  I'm so dedicated to my fans it's truly unreal.  There's a special kind of charm that Chicago has when it's been raining for the past week.  By charm, I mean it's sort of like Chicago's dead in the eyes, a feeling I'm getting quite used to.  Today in Peacoats and Poppers I thought I'd take you behind the scenes with one of my side jobs.  How do you think I can afford all that fun?  Work?  Well, no.  My parents, duh.  That's another story.  But how do you think I afford that Five Guys I had for lunch?  Dog walking!  

Lemme introduce you to my co-star in this weeks Peacoats and Poppers.  His name is Mo and he's a 1 year old Bernese Mountain Dog, so cute.  He's a sweet heart, loves gnawing on my hands when I'm putting his leash on, and he's such a handsome boy I knew I had to feature him on the blog.  Definitely one of my faves.  Of course no dog walk that I do is complete without some weird shit happening (as you'll hear below).  Can I just say, I HATE businesses who leave dog treats out front of their doors.  Like, I get it, you want to be cutesy and dog friendly blah blah whatever, but these dogs go NUTS for these treats and try to eat the whole bowl.  I had to drag Mo away from it, he was inconsolable.  The owner came out and had the nerve to snap at me and say "MAKE HIM SIT!"  UM…. Ma'am… A. You're fucking fault B. I don't want him to sit I want him to literally do the opposite of sit and come with me and C. Tell me what to do                      ONE. MORE. TIME.  

In the interest of keeping my job I won't say who I work for, but I WILL say if you have a dog and need it walked but want it walked by somebody who knows how to PARTY then hmu.  Although, after you read these stories you might not want me too.  I'll say this for myself though, I take no responsibility for the weird shit that happens to me when I walk these pooches.  It's just my luck that I get a French Bulldog who tries to eat every single thing on the street including other dog shit and I have to bear down and dig it out of his mouth.  Or a Golden Retriever who throws up all over my nice jacket.  Or a lab that lays down in the middle of the street and won't budge, even as we are honked at by at least 5 cars that have to drive around us.  Dog walking is fun!  (P.S. I really am good with dogs, I swear…)

By far one of my favorite experiences walking these dogs (and I say favorite with vigorous sarcasm) is with these two dogs Marley and Brennan.  My journey with these two started a while before I actually ended up walking them.  They kept popping up with walk requests practically every night.  It would show up like this "7:00 walk needed.  7:30 walk needed.  8:00 walk needed.  8:30 walk needed."  Basically nobody wanted to walk them.  My friend Alissa and I thought it was because their profile picture looked like the dog from the Ghostbusters movie (Google for reference), but oh, how blind we were.  One night we decided, why not, let's walk them!  When we showed up to the house the door was unlocked (normally the houses are locked with a key in a lock box), and the house was empty.  Like bizarrely empty.  Like a couch and a picture on the wall and that's it.  The dogs were big dogs, pitbull mutts of some sort, idk but there was only one leash.  After standing in the house for a few minutes wondering what to do, this girl holding an empty wine glass stumbles down the stairs and barks at me "Oh, it's you.  I only have one leash so walk one of them for 15 minutes and the other for 15 minutes k thnx."  And back upstairs she went.  Okayyyyyyy.  Thanks to Alissa the walk went somewhat ok, even though these dogs pull like crazy.  The next time I walked Marley and Brennan it was by myself however.  I thought, "maybe it won't be so bad!"  When I showed up to the house the girl opened the door at the same time as me and looked stunned.  "I forgot I ordered you," she said, "Thank God because I didn't want to walk them anyway."  Smelling like vodka she shoved the leashes in my face and slammed the door.  At least she got a second leash.  Walking these two dogs together almost pulled my fucking arms outta their sockets in different directions.  Never again.  Never.  Marley and Brennan, if you're out there,  I'm thinking of you and I'm sorry you have such a garbage owner but I'll never ever see you again.  

My most traumatic dog walk however came one sunny Thursday in September.  I was new to walking dogs and hadn't done many yet, so when a walk popped up in Wicker Park, a good 5-6 miles away from me and a neighborhood where I have no clue where anything is (I've since learned my lesson) I thought, "Great, lemme make an extra buck or two!"  I headed down there with about 30% battery life on my phone to do an hour walk with a 1 year old Great Dane.  Good thing I had so much battery life because we definitely spent a good 25 minutes sitting in the house, him barking at me, and running around every time I tried to clip the collar on him.  Now the collar is very important, just a run of the mill, regular buckled up collar.  Remember that.  By the time we got out onto the walk my phone was dead.  I was in an area I'd never been to in my life, but the walk was going well.  He was pulling a bit but the weather was nice so no complaints.  Suddenly the collar snapped off and he bolted.  I chased this mother fucker down for FOURTEEN BLOCKS.  Weeping.  Sprinting.  Throwing treats at him.  Screaming for somebody to grab him.  Meanwhile this little ass hole keeps running a bit and then turning around and looking at me with this dumb grin that was like "oh isn't this fun??"  Just picture that will you.  My backpack swinging around, sweat and tears streaming down my face, my loose American Eagle jeans about to fall off.  I can say with certainty that even with all the trashy and dumb things I've been through in 2016, this, this was my lowest moment.  Shoutout to the literal ANGEL who helped me corner him, gave me an extra leash that she had to secure him AND gave me a phone charger so I could charge my phone.  I swear that I'm not a bad dog walker.  I SWEAR. 

I always wanted a dog growing up but that pipe dream was consistently shot down by mommie dearest.  Which now, as an adult, I understand.  I was a nightmare kid on my own, let alone throw a sloppy dog into the mix, and our Restoration Hardware dream home would crumble.  I overcame my dog-less life with other pets.  One fun cat who runs into walls and can open doors, one mean cat who hissed at everything and swelled with hatred (RIP Faline), and multiple hermit crabs from the Jersey Shore (two of which committed suicide and I'm being 100% serious).  It seemed hopeless that we'd ever be a dog family, that was, until, the summer after I graduated college.  I don't think that little Bichon Frise-Poodle mix puppy ever thought that her future would come down to 4 adults downing 2 pitchers of margaritas but low and behold here we are.  We own a dog named Margarita, called Rita for short.  Best drunk purchase we ever made.  You can catch her on my Instagram or on my mom's Facebook page dressed in a wide array of costumes.                   Check this bitch out!

When going on dog walks remember to always wear dark colors.  That way it's easier to sneak around your clients houses and go thru their stuff!  I'd never steal anything, of course, but I like to get an idea of the person and put together a little backstory for them in my head.  It's fun!  For example:  Kristie has a lot of pictures in her room with this blonde girl, but I wonder if blondie has the same amount of pictures of Kristie in her room?  Is the friendship reciprocated?  Anyway, I'll give you a little run down of this outfit (if you even care, which I don't, particularly).  The sweatshirt is Express, which I always have a hard time not walking out of that store looking like a Ukrainian frat bro.  Sometimes I get a little stuck in 2007.  The jacket and shoes are Banana and there's about 4 or 5 layers of grime on those shoes, but you can only kinda see 1 in these pictures.  The jacket is V letterman's jacket, which is about as sporty as I can be.  The hat is somebody else's.  That's all I'll say.  The scarf is my mom's and it's probably the worst scarf I own.  There ya go!  Aren't I such a fashionista?!  Hope you enjoyed this post and I hope it gave you something to smile about before we all plunge into a deep dark despair this Friday!  Yay America!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole, 

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 pics by Dean Daneluzzi

pics by Dean Daneluzzi

New Year, New Me?

Well, here we are!  2017!  I'd love it if this was one of those blogs that was like "new year new me, I'm looking forward to the future," but really here I sit, my back still hurts from not going to the gym (bed sores?), watching My 600 lb Life and the Bagel Bites just came out of the oven, so I can't say much has changed.  The weekend is here and I haven't finished this blog from last week yet so needless to say I'm really making changes in this new year…?  In this post I hope you'll hop in the uber with me and head back to my place; we'll discuss how to dress for the club in the winter, uber horror stories, and my New Years memz.  My brain still feels hollow after last weekend but lets get up, chug that pedialyte and let's get crackin!

It's 4 degrees out, it' New Years, but are you gonna actually wear a big bulky coat out to the clubs?  Heck no!  One thing I'll never do is pay for coat check or wait in a fucking line to get it, so what, tie it around your waist?  I asked Dean if we should bring a coat and he said "oh ya, coat check on New Years sounds fun."  Hold it and use it to slam through big crowds like a battering ram?  Well, yes, BUT there's another option.  Dress for the summer!  Stop whining that it's so cold. Drink up, clench your jaw and deal with it.  Just because it's chilly doesn't mean we shouldn't be cute.  This number is a plaid button up from Top Shop with a jean jacket that I stole from my mom.  I'm assuming it's Ann Taylor or Eddie Bauer.  Pair it with some black jeans and you've got a look that's sufficiently sub-par.  You'll notice how wrinkly my clothes are.  I just got a steamer for Christmas so lets hope I won't look like a shriveled up twink in the new year.  Let's HOPE.  Wishes are for wishing.

Here I am lounging in the backseat of this Honda Civic/Toyota Camry whatever the fuck this car is, do you think I know cars??  Off to beautiful, sunny Rosemont, Illinois for the two day Reaction New Years Eve music festival:  Gucci Mane, Dillon Francis, Flume, Tchami and a lot of other "artists" you probably haven't heard of if you don't own a fanny pack.  My friend won tickets to this off some guy on Instagram whom we had seen at Queen once wearing a leather mask so we were 100% sure this was legit and not a trap.  We were half way there and on the high way when I remembered that I left my credit card at home and had to turn around and get it.  Tip: if you want to start the weekend off right and get your friends excited and ready to party, pull some stunt like this!  They won't complain about it at all the whole 2 hours we were in the car!  It was a long drive so I thought I'd kick up my feet and relax, and show off my brand spankin' new white Tommy Hilfiger shoes.  Wearing white shoes in the winter can always be a gamble, but what better way to show off your spunky and risk taking attitude!  I should add before and after pictures of these shoes now but let's just say they are SPOTLESS now.  I'll mention that the Uber driver was recording us on his iPad face out so I hope we gave him some good content.  You KNOW I fixed my hair at least 12 times in that camera.

The amount of times I've been filmed in an Uber might surprise you.  I always ask if I'm being filmed for  Cash Cab but I'm pretty consistently greeted with silence or "are you on coke?"  I did have one driver ask me questions like we WERE on Cash Cab and get really mad when I got the answers wrong.  As the ride continued, and he got more and more intense about these dumb questions, I realized that I was getting closer to waking up chained in a basement, which is a personal goal of mine.  I mean, how could you feel more wanted than being shackled up by the ankle and kept like a pet.  Somebody thinks I'm a CUTIE! Valentine's Day IS around the corner!

Let me set the scene for you.  We've checked into our hotel room at Marriott Suites using my dad's Marriott points.  He texted me that day and said "don't act sketchy because they'll think you're a drug dealer and they'll call the police and I'll lose my points."  I'd say I was pissed he cares more about his points than his son going to jail but I get it, those points got us HOOKED UP.  Day one of the festival went smoothy.  We ditched a guy who wanted to hang out after but he was completely sober so my question is, what were we gonna do, have conversations?  Play card games?  We just arrived to day two of after having to bully our Uber driver to follow the GPS.  This is the same Uber who asked if we were on coke BUT LET ME JUST SAY that he tried to turn left and get on the highway when the GPS directions were quite literally go straight and make no turns down one street so lets not throw stones in glass houses.  The security guards at the pat down on day one were nice, cheery, jolly fellas.  Day two, not so much.  I loved ringing in the new year shakin' in my boots, getting ass tickled by a swat team.  Hey, I never said I was a role model!

What I really don't understand is, how, after every festival my fingernails come out like I've been digging my own grave??  I added a screenshot of the Snapchat I took for reference, see below.  Does this happen to anybody else??  I've googled and googled and tossed and turned trying to figure it out.  DM me if you have any ideas. 

  Here's my dusty nails!! Seriously, does this happen to anybody else?? Also, follow me on Snapchat?  I'm good at sending nudes.

Here's my dusty nails!! Seriously, does this happen to anybody else?? Also, follow me on Snapchat?  I'm good at sending nudes.

So there it is!  That's how I spent my New Years.  Ya know, some people like gold dresses and champagne flutes and some like muddy fingernails.  Different strokes!  I hope everyone had a wonderful and SAFE New Years.  Safety first, always.  

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 Photos by @stephen_aaron

Photos by @stephen_aaron

I'll Be a Homo for Christmas

Merry Christmas to all my degenerate friends!  For my second holiday blog post, I thought I'd give you all a backstage pass into my apartment as I gear up for Christmas.  Not many people get a glimpse into this dark and scary place, and if you do then chances are you're about as fucked up as I am.  But once a year it turns into a wintery wonderland, and then stays that way for the rest of the year because I get too lazy to take down the decorations.  So let's get cozy, snuggle up, throw on one of those gay Michael Buble Christmas songs and get festive, chestnuts!  

In keeping with the relaxed holiday spirit, I toned down my outfit today to a nice and basic bathrobe, which is a MUST HAVE in any closet.  Truly, the times I wear a bathrobe are the times that I am feeling the most homosexual.  The last time I wore one was when I tried to take a bath, got super stoned, and dropped an entire bottle of wine on the floor and sliced the bottom of my foot open.  You can't tell in the pictures but there are little spots of blood on the bottom of the robe, which I think adds character.  Above, you can see me lighting the candles in my fake fireplace that the last guy who lived here added for no imaginable reason at all.  Have a waste of space in your apartment like this?  Turn it into something fun!  I turned it into Ariel's grotto, a place where she can go to escape her over bearing father.  Thought I wasn't gay enough for ya?  If you look closely you can see that I put a fork in there.  Get it?

When it comes to decoration it's all about spacial awareness.  I thought I'd showcase three of my favorite pieces in my apartment.  I know it's not related to Christmas but this is my blog and I'll do what I want.  Piece number one is a print out of Xena Warrior Princess, which truly helped me to realize how gay I really was.  Her relationship with Gabrielle, those boots, that musical episode, this show was VERY underrated in my opinion.  I have every season on DVD if you're interested.  Send me nudes if you want 'em.  The second piece is from the inside of a DVD box for "Color Me Barbra," a musical television special in which she runs around a museum and acts like a freak.  HIGHLY recommended.  And finally, the piece that I have in my hands is a poster that my mom made for me after our cat died.  It says "Our sweet Faline."  No explanation necessary. 

Preparing a Christmas dinner in my house is easy.  Since all I ever have in my fridge are condiments, I like to stand in front of it with the door open, stare longingly and make a wish for my stomach to stop hurting anymore.  Then I redownload Postmates under a different email since they still want me to pay for the Nando's Peri Peri Chicken Sandwich I got last time and place an order for the Chipotle that's around the block from me.  When the guy brought me the Peri Peri last time, I opened my door and he looked around, literally frowned and said "nice incense."  He stomped off onto the elevator.  Was he being sarcastic?  Did it smell?  True story. 

It's important around Christmas-time to open your heart to the poor and destitute.  In this case it's the poor and diseased.  Not entirely sure who this little cupcake is, but this sad child seemed like he needed a shoulder to cry on, a toilet to barf in and a place to rest his weary head.  So I popped a bullshit Trader Joe's Kale and Butternut Squash pizza in the oven, threw some rum and Winter Wassail together (give it a shot, it tastes pretty bad, but if you put enough liquor in it you'll start to lose feeling in your taste buds and it goes down like smooth butter or cough syrup) and force fed this pathetic putrid pup (alliteration).  You gotta give, give, give people!  It's the holidays!

I mentioned earlier that I'll be leaving up these decorations until I move out of this apartment, right?  There hasn't been an apartment I've lived in where I haven't burnt marks into the walls with Christmas lights.  I like to think of them as lasting memories seared into the walls of this one bedroom, so that when the next people live there they can look around and say "Wow, some fucking moron lived here but damn it probably looked SO CUTE."  Also, check out this ornament below!  "Don we now our FUN apparel."  Seems pretty homophobic to me.

A lot of gay themes in this post.  Makes sense I guess.  All I did this year was become more gay than I already am, I think.  Can't wait to see what happens next year.  Finally, in a gesture of good will, I'll let you know who that little worm that's sprawled on my couch is.  Dean Daneluzzi, go follow him on Instagram and his blog or whatever.  It's called "The Dean's List" and its about outfits and blah blah blah.  I know what you're saying to yourself, "But P&P, I only follow your blog!  How could I possibly have room in my life to let some other blog in?"  Trust me, I get it.  Just do it for me, ok?   So there it is, my last post in 2016.  See you all in the new year, fingers crossed I make it thru next weekend!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole, 

Happy Holidays, Peacoats and Poppers

 Photos by @stephen_aaron2

Photos by @stephen_aaron2

Jingle Balls

Going to any holiday parties?  I'm not.  Didn't get invited.  I think people see my Snapchat stories and they say to themselves "I'm not letting that piece of garbage anywhere near my Christmas charcuterie."  But little do they know, I'm already downstairs and scaling the fire escape!  The seasons are upon us!  Ho, ho, ho, here I am, breaking into your apartment to give you unsolicited advice about how to dress for a holiday party!

As I grow older, wiser and closer to a heart attack, I've noticed how GOOD a sport coat can pull together a look that started off as plain and boring into something suave and a little douchey.  Don't we all want to look a little douchey?  This little number is from Crossroads, a consignment store thats around the corner from my apartment.  It's from CPO Provisions and it has a rip in the inside of the right sleeve so it gets VERY confusing when you try to put it on.  At Crossroads, you bring your old clothes and they'll give you money back.  When I brought my clothes, however, the girl at the front desk looked thru the bag for literally one, short minute and said, "Sorry I don't think we can take any of these."  Looks like I'm off to Salvation Army!

 Yes, I know there's a fuzz on my sport coat.  FUCK OFF!

Yes, I know there's a fuzz on my sport coat.  FUCK OFF!

I've recently seen people wearing pins on the collars of their sport coats.  I thought, "I could do that! Easy!"  Too bad I don't have any fucking PINS laying around my house.  But I really needed a bit of spice in this outfit so I found this pin that my friend Alissa gifted me that she stole at a thrift store in Brooklyn.  If you can't read the small type in this picture it says "Congrats Jared!  10 years of keeping it off! Subway; A proud sponsor of The Little League World Series."  Now, I'm not supporting a child porn peddler but this pin is SUPER cute so, thanks Jared!  It really gives my outfit a preppy, academic, pedophile look. 

Turtlenecks!  Love 'em!  They are super in season and they can also hide all those little indiscretions that you don't want people to know about!  Yes, I'm talking about hickies, fans.  I've quite the experience with them, even though I personally think that they are fucking stupid.  STOP GIVING HICKIES.  What are you trying to do, leave your mark on me??  Does anybody like them??  Pls, asking for a friend and also asking for me!!  One time I got a hickey in spring (not turtleneck weather) when I was in rehearsals for a musical.   They were from the music director so I didn't want anybody to get any funny ideas and think that I got my role using anything but my talent. Turtleneck to the rescue!

I developed a technique in high school that I'm honestly wondering if anybody else does this as well.  I tuck in my shoe laces.  I know, I know, weird right, but is it?  I got these shoes from DSW 60% off and the laces suck.  They look like a set of unsatisfying balls.  WOW, full circle with the title of this post.  Everybody needs some fancy, leather shoes in their closet.  Unfortunately, this is the first time I wore them, and now they are fucking ruined cause of this fucking snow.  Happy Holidays!

Does anybody actually like eggnog?  Like, I *think* I do?  But now that I'm saying that, I think about the eggnog I bought a couple weeks ago that's still sitting in my refrigerator.  What am I supposed to do with it?  Look, I know this post was short, but I have a LOT going on and I honestly don't have the time for my stupid, STUPID fans.  Jk love ya!  I'll post another holiday blog later this week so get ready for more festive fuckery. But until then...

May you're buttons be as loose as your butt hole, 

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

Mama I'm a Big Girl Now

Well, look at that, it took me two posts before I ran out shit to write about.   Bare with me as I try to use as many words as I can to say the same thing, just in a different way.  Let's see how much useless shit I can stuff in this blog post before you realize that I'm just rambling.  Reminds me of college.  But honestly, I feel like I let my fans down and more-so, I let myself down.  Jk idc.  It was bound to happen eventually.  If you need an excuse, I spent the last couple days in Whitewater, Wisconsin performing Lyle the fucking Crocodile for, I kid you not, 1,300 kids K-3rd grade.   Thank God for the drive thru liquor stores.  

I thought I'd bring you to my fave donut shop in Chicago!  Firecakes Donuts is a charming little spot tucked away on the corner of Arlington and N Clark St that specializes in artisanal donuts and a quaint atmosphere.  I stopped by on my day off to grab a treat and a little coffee and this chocolate donut was DEE-LICIOUS!  I chatted a little with the girl at the counter who couldn't have been nicer.  Her name was Rachel and she threatened to call her manager, such a sweetheart!  "Firecakes" is also the word I'd use to describe my ass after eating this donut.   The only downside: I got all that donut powder all over my face!  So annoying! 

 The only time I ever want to lick a brown hole is at Firecakes Donuts!  

The only time I ever want to lick a brown hole is at Firecakes Donuts!  

It's getting cold out there, losers!  I picked out this thermal white shirt from American Apparel and it's warmer than it looks.  I mean, obviously I didn't take these pictures this week, cause have you been outside?!  The oil on my oily skin is starting to form icicles!  Another thing, people get scared of white because it's easy to stain, but most of the stains I deal with are white or clear anyway!  But, anyways, you HAVE to layer!  It's a must! This wooly cardigan is from Banana Republic and boy oh boy is it itchy.  I mean, I'm used to an itch every now and then but god damn.  Big, thick cardigans are really in this season if you're looking to keep up with the current trends.  I could make a "big, thick" joke but I already sound like a diseased whore so I better quit while I'm ahead.

A quick side note, this donut was probably the only thing I ate all day.  Someday I'll give you a backstage pass to my non-existent healthy eating lifestyle.  Mostly it's just me standing in front of my empty pantry and making a wish on the evening star that something other than bread and peanut butter was in there, but thats a different post for a different time.  Another little detail, never been inside this place in my life until these pictures.  Does that make me a liar?  A phony?  I'm not sure, but if I told you that I was doing anything else besides write this fuckin thing, THAT would make me a liar.  So there you have it.  A new blog post.  This shit is getting hard.  I seriously don't know how people have the motivation to do this shit.  Till next time!

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 Photos by Taylor Martin

Photos by Taylor Martin

(Bath)Room feat. Brie Larson

 I should really work out.  But I won't.  Those shoes are from 8th grade.

I should really work out.  But I won't.  Those shoes are from 8th grade.

For my second post I thought I'd take you to my favorite place in my apartment to wake up in.  If you aren't using your bath towel as a comforter than what fun are you, really?  The great thing about bathrooms are that they're everywhere!  I've spent many Friday nights touring club bathrooms in and around Chicago.  If I don't make it to the bathroom, there's always a cup to throw up in!  Just ask the staff at Holiday Club.

If you want to look even more emaciated than you are: wear all black!  It's slimming and and it makes you look like a floating head.  Sexy!  Mysterious!  Now the club bathroom's not only your personal puke pit but also the setting for your next blowjob.  Glow sticks make for great accessories.  Don't have a glow stick?  Find someone who does, ask them if you can take a picture with it, and now it's yours!  Easy!

 My go-to cocktail; 1 part antiseptic Listerine, 3 parts vodka and a tear in my eye.

My go-to cocktail; 1 part antiseptic Listerine, 3 parts vodka and a tear in my eye.

True story about the beads in this picture:  they came from a party I went to with my two friends.  Let's call them Cumdump and Dickgrease for the sake of anonymity.  Dean, whoops I mean Dickgrease, and I were having our usual night of dinner and drinks (by which I mean vodka and naan bread from Trader Joe's) when Cumdrump texted me and said that he was at a office party for a company he doesn't work for.  Open bar!  Being the yes man that I am, we walked in and told people "we know the birthday boy!"  To which they responded, "it's not a birthday party!"  Any party can be your party if you make it, remember that friends. 

 This bath bomb from Lush is called Starry Night or something gay like that.

This bath bomb from Lush is called Starry Night or something gay like that.

I threw this Lush bath bomb into the toilet because tbh that's where it belongs!  Fuck baths.

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole, 

Love, Peacoats and Poppers

 Photos by Taylor Martin

Photos by Taylor Martin

Taking the First Step

Well, here we go!  Taking the first step!  Here's to new beginnings!  First day of school! 

 My glasses are from Warby Parker!  An optomitrst at Vision Boutique told me that they're digging into the bridge of my nose and I shouldn't be wearing them anymore but fuck that dude right??

My glasses are from Warby Parker!  An optomitrst at Vision Boutique told me that they're digging into the bridge of my nose and I shouldn't be wearing them anymore but fuck that dude right??

It's always a little scary taking those first few steps outside of your comfort zone.  It's like when you take a pill from a girl in line for the porta potties, you're pretty sure you shouldn't do it, but this kind of thinking is what's going to keep you boxed in!  So break that box sister, go for it!  That was my thinking when I decided to start this blog.

 Watch: don't know.  Pants:  Banana Republic.  Shirt:  I *think* Urban Outfitters but like get off my back.

Watch: don't know.  Pants:  Banana Republic.  Shirt:  I *think* Urban Outfitters but like get off my back.

Are you one of those people that are like "Connor, I LOVE your presence on social media!  You make me laugh soooo much omg"?  If you are, kill yourself, if you aren't then welcome!  Lately I've noticed that every single body has a blog or an online presence.  Some people I know even make MONEY with the stuff they put on the internet!  I love putting stuff on the internet.  I've been doing it for years and nobody makes me laugh more than me!  I have amazing fashion, very topical knowledge about things and a lot of time on my hands.  A LOT.

 Look how cute those fucking Disney princess stickers are!  Isn't that ridiculous!

Look how cute those fucking Disney princess stickers are!  Isn't that ridiculous!

I'm always looking for a quiet place to go to where I can get some work done.  Someplace private, but where I still feel like I'm soaking up the day and being trendy.  Did you know that the apartment building next to me has a patio that they never lock?  I didn't!  I took advantage of this nice day, brewed a cup of joe, threw on my "impress me" glasses and took my computer outside to get a little sun and fresh air.  I love this Urban shirt that I got a few years ago!  The color pops and the fabric is breathable.  I definitely recommend this look with some brown slacks to dress it up a bit.  Perfect for a beautiful fall day in Chicago!  

So there it is, my first blog post!  See, it's short, sweet and to the point.  And you probably didn't even read it, just looked at the pictures.  That's fine!  I didn't read it either!  I'm going to be posting new blog posts every other week or honestly whenever I get around to it.  

May your buttons be as loose as your butt hole,

Love, Peacoats and Poppers