The House RocK Built is No Spring Chicken

It happens to the best of us. You graduate from college a strapping, physically-fit and sculpted young adult in a healthy routine of distance running and weightlifting. Then you get a desk job, lose your gym membership card, and spend a disproportionate amount of time slugging beers, smoking Parliament Lights, and cramming your face with Chipotle burritos. Next thing you know, you're a little bit plushier in the midsection and you find yourself secretly punching new holes in your belt with a rusty awl while crying into a half-eaten pint of Ben & Jerry's.

But you haven't hit rock bottom until you're sitting on your porch, leisurely enjoying a smoke and a Hot Pocket, when suddenly your cheapo Meijer canvas chair buckles and disintegrates under your weight.

Welcome to rock bottom, fatass.

For a while, I was inconsolable, until I realized that this was all just a big misunderstanding. You see, it turns out that the Wicker Park neighborhood of Chicago is infested with a malicious hybrid of termite which feast exclusively on metal alloys.


You see? This is the work of varmits, not an out-of-shape blogger in serious denial.

Be on alert, Chicago-area residents. It might be you that the swarm attacks next. If you see any of these vicious pests, call an exterimator immediately, then cook up a frozen pizza while you're waiting for them to arrive.


Artist's rendition. Don't try to be a hero if you see one, hide indoors and wait for the professionals.