2023 Listener Limericks

In honor of St. Patrick’s Day and our Sixth Annual Pledge Drive Telethon Fundraiser donors, I’m self-publishing this year’s limericks! These were written for our amazing friends of the program who donated funds to help us keep the show running. I hope you all enjoy your limericks!


If you love your mom and your dad

And your devotion is not just a fad

Then send them a gift

Or else they’ll feel miffed

And your inheritance will be oh so sad


There once was a brother named Walt

Whose favorite rock was basalt

It’s good in small portions

But hard to contortion

And slightly less tasty than salt

Beaver Dam

My sister belongs to the beavers

Their pelts oh so cherished by weavers

They like to build dams

She thinks they’re like ham

I won’t taste, so I’ll have to believe her


My brother’s middle name is Hank

Not Slappy, or Douglas, or Frank

You could call him Whitey

And he’ll say “Alrighty”

“So long as it’s only a prank”

Lutheran Potluck

My grandparents live in Minnesota

Not Iowa, nor North or South Dakota

They sure love hotdish

It’s mighty delisch!

I sure hope they never move to Sarasota!

Milk and Honey

I have a great auntie named Anna

She survives off of green tea and manna

She loves the Incredible Hulk

And hits the gym for her bulk

So one day she’ll look like Eric Bana

Go Pack Go

My friend has a puppy named Jordy

A retriever, I think, or a corgi

He goes out at night

And causes the neighbors a fright

When he barks, they exclaim “Oh Lordy”


My great aunt is known to most as Marge

Her pocketbook, it must be quite large

To donate to the kids

Brings tears to my lids

These tears in my eyes, they truly discharge

Cake Shake

My friends are named Abbie and Jake

The only eat portillo’s cake shakes

Their metabolism is high

Tho diabetes may be nigh

I’m fearful their diet’s a mistake


Betty is one of the best

She’s a drug dealer, I say just in jest

A distributor of pills

Like tylenol or advil

To know her, you’d truly be blessed

Thanks again for donating, and Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Love is…

Love is like a flower, blossoming from a small seed into something big and beautiful

Love is like a bear hug, warm and welcoming and always soothing

Love is like Benjamin Button, it doesn’t get old over time

Love is like money, the more you have of it the better

Love is like the Old Testament, scary and violent sometimes but a happy ending. Actually I have no idea how the Old Testament ends.

Love is like the Aral Sea, dry and salty at times but it used to be a key source of water for millions of Central Asians

Love is like this poem, often meandering and confusing but you find a sense of comfort in it

Love is like the 1976 Tampa Bay Buccaneers, new to the world and full of losses and disappointment but brimming with hope for the future

Love is like Evan Williams Whiskey, cheap and throat burning but always there for you when nothing else is going your way

Love is like the George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers, loud and cacophonous but reassuring and gentle all at once

Love is like the food poisoning I got from undercooked tilapia in December of 2015, fishy and slimy at times but still warm

Love is like the food poisoning I got from the Chinese restaurant on Sheridan in November of 2016, spicy and full of GMOs and gone in an instant

Love is like the food poisoning I got in the Dominican Republic in June of 2021, super scary

Love is a mystery. It is the wild west. It doesn’t play by any of the rules. It is almost a great palindrome. Happy Valentine’s Day from all of us at the Beantown Podcast!

MoviePass – Don’t Call it a Comeback

“It’s time to have fun at the movies again” -Tim Heidecker, On Cinema at the Cinema

Except it’s not. MoviePass roared back to life late in 2022, but I unfortunately cannot bring myself to roar with it. For those of you who are out of the loop, or who completely forgot about my #1 hobby from around 2017-2018 and an original staple of the Beantown Podcast, I used to watch a lot of movies, particularly those in theaters (including blockbusters and indie releases). The first thing you’re probably thinking is “Quinn, you’re a cheap-ass, there’s no way in hell you’re paying all that money over and over again to see a bunch of movies.” And you’d be right. I am a cheap-ass. Rachel just threw out my plastic 1/4 measuring cup I bought when I was 18. So how did I do it? MoviePass, baby.

If you missed the cultural phenomenon that was MoviePass, the product was launched all the way back in 2011, and when boiled down, essentially allowed you to pay an upfront monthly price (for me it was $9.99, but they’ve been through a whole slew of rates throughout their history) in exchange for seeing one movie a day at the theaters. After you register, MoviePass would send you a debit card in the mail. Once you’re within 0.5 miles of the theater you’re trying to go to, you open up the app, select the theater and film/time, and your debit card will be loaded with the exact amount that movie costs. Pretty ingenious, right? Sounds way too good to be true, right? Well, it was. But for those 15 or so months where I had unlimited power and access to all the movies, it was glorious. I saw indie movies you’ve never heard of. Foreign films that kicked ass. All the best Oscar-nominted animated and live action shorts. Often times, I would even pony up for a $2 small black coffee at the concession stand. I had no friends, no social life, no side hustles, no bastard children living with their mom in South Carolina mailing me letters asking me for alimony – There was something so simple and serene about that lifestyle.

But like all good things, it had to come to an end. By the summer of 2018, things started to get gnarly. MoviePass raised prices. They started blocking certain movies from their service. Millions of Americans never saw Mission Impossible 6 because of MoviePass’ weird glitches, and that is an absolute shame because Mission Impossible 6 is one of the greatest action movies ever made. They literally filmed Tom Cruise skydiving in real life for the Paris drop sequence. Then he learned to fly a helicopter for the final showdown. He could have ended up like Kobe for god’s sake! By 2019, it was all over. Seeing the writing on the wall back in 2018, I actually temporarily tried out a rival competitor, Sinemia. I think I got to use it about 3-4 times before the app completely shut down and the company went bankrupt in early 2019, before MoviePass even officially croaked. And I never learned how to say it. Sin-EM-ee-uh? Sin-uh-MEE-uh? Kryrsten Sineema?

Which brings us to 2022 – MoviePass officially relaunched a beta version, and as one of their previous Sapphire Tier Unlimited Elite Preferred members, I was given VIP access to their super secret waitlist, allowing me first access when the relaunch finally, well, launched. Unfortunately, the second coming wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The unlimited model was gone. In essence, you pay a flat monthly rate (it’s slightly different in each market, but let’s take Chicago for example) of $20/month, or the cost of around 1.7 regular movies, Then you have credits which can be exchanged for a movie, let’s say you get 35 credits/month. As you might expect, MoviePass has the power to price these movies however they see fit. So if you want to go see a 3rd run of Avatar: The Last Airbender, thinking it’s Avatar: Way of Water, on a Tuesday at 11am, you might only have to use 15 credits to see this film. But if you wanted to see the Guardians of the Galaxy 3 at 7pm on a Saturday, that could be 36 credits, meaning you actually have to rollover credits from a previous month just to see one film. On top of that, the support has been getting ‘glowing’ review, and by glowing I mean imagine if all their servers and tech people melted down into a big ball of glowing useless lava. What did Cutty say in “The Wire” ? The game just ain’t in me no more? Preaching to the choir.

So here we are. I still haven’t seen Avatar: Way of Water. Will I even get to see it before Avatar 3: Fire and Rescue comes out? How many credits is it to watch Planes: Fire and Rescue at the dollar theater, 45? It was a hell of a run, and we had so many good times, but it’s just not gonna work. Quinn out.

10 Tips for Surviving a Heat Wave

Hey guys, Quinn David Furness here coming in HOT (pun intended) with an all new Beantown Blog post. No, I’m not as prolific with the blog as I once was, but hey, I really wanted that Euphoria Season 2 finale recap to marinate. I thought about doing a whole blog post about the This is Us series finale last month, but I don’t know, two TV reviews in a row, who am I, Roger Ebert? So let’s not do a whole separate post, but let’s pay a little tribute to the show that had us laughing, crying, and checking our watches to see how much time was left in the episode.

For anyone who’s never seen This is Us, welcome to my world. I knew it starred Sterling K Brown and a crockpot, but beyond that, I was clueless. So there I am thrown smack dab into the middle of the emotional final season. And if you don’t know anything about the way this show is structured, it is going to be absolutely mind-boggling. Did you know they do the show in multiple different time periods? Meaning we get to see 6 year old Sterling K Brown, 22 year SKB, 47 year old SKB, and so on and so forth. The crock pot does not age well, either. But here’s the big kicker: Mandy Moore, who in real life is still somehow only 38 (wasn’t Princess Diaries from like 1994??), portrays her character throughout all the time periods. So while you have a CGI Gary Coleman portraying the 12 year old Sterling, Sterling portraying the 40 year old Sterling, and Samuel L Jackson portraying the 73 year old Sterling, you’ve got Mandy doing all her own parts. Now look, from a paycheck perspective, it’s genius. None of her wealth is getting diluted to B list actors like Millie Bobby Brown or Susan Sarandon. But you’re telling me that I’m supposed to believe Mandy Moore can pull off a 75 year old woman dying of dementia? Mrs. Doubtfire was more believable. Anyways, I was so distracted by this absurdity that I couldn’t even tell you what else happened in the show. Also, I didn’t actually watch the final episode. Between the time travel and the main white guy being a total Josh Holloway wannabe, this was essentially the spiritual sequel to LOST, and if there was ever a show that didn’t need more air time, it’s LOST.

So back to June 14th here in Chicago. The heat index is currently 108 with about 60% humidity. Reminds me of Baltimore. It’s brutal. A lot of my Chicago folks aren’t used to this type of action. So as someone who has both lived in Chicago for multiple summers without AC (2014, 2019, and 2020), as well as someone who’s been to Orlando between February and November, I feel qualified to offer up some tips on how to stay cool during a Chicago heat wave. Read up!

  1. If you are lucky enough to have air conditioning, this may be the time to use it. You’ll have to feel it out for yourself, but 108 is pretty hot. I don’t know what sort of twisted sense of macho man syndrome you think you have, or if you think it’s funny to tell the world “Hey it’s 108 and I’m not using my AC,” but stop being a little attention whore already and just turn on the AC.
  2. Drink lots of water. Peeing every hour is preferable – If your pee is a darker shade of green, yellow, or red, you’re probably not drinking enough. If you don’t have running water, try smacking a fire hydrant with a comically large wrench and see if it bursts open. I think they did that in “Do the Right Thing.”
  3. If you’re going to run outside, try to do it before 7am. I know I know, waking up at 5:30am on a Tuesday morning then working a full day sucks, but not as bad as heat exhaustion. If you do run in broad daylight with a heat index at 108, make sure you post a selfie on Instagram afterward so everyone knows you’re hardcore. What’s the point of running in that kind of misery if you don’t tell people about it?
  4. Get creamed. Ice cream, I mean. But watch out – Thanks to supply chain issues, Joe Biden, and probably Russia, mini Blizzards at your local Dairy Queen (that’s a size smaller than Small for those who don’t know) might still cost $5. That’s crazy. When did DQ become the hangout for rich kids? You could get a 49c cone at McDonald’s back in 2014, and now this?
  5. Ice baths. They’re not just for the pros anymore. The only problem is you’re going to need a lot of ice trays. I have 3, which is a good start. If you’re like me, you like to enjoy yourself too while you’re cooling down – Try finding the emoji ice cube maker my friend Amy got for me back in 2017. Really a hoot.
  6. Jump in a lake. I don’t care which lake. I don’t want to just say “Lake Michigan” because my readers in Pakistan will have no idea what I’m talking about. Let me take this chance to say this to my friends in the Khyber Pass: مجھے نہیں معلوم کہ پاکستان میں کوئی اچھی جھیلیں ہیں یا نہیں، اس لیے کسی نقشے یا کسی اور چیز سے مشورہ کرنے کی کوشش کریں۔
  7. Learn Urdu. Not only will you be able to easily and quickly know exactly what I just wrote, it will also be a welcome distraction from your face melting off.
  8. Dip your toes in the ice machine at your local Dunkin. Those guys make minimum wage, and unless you encounter a really ambitious franchise owner, they are not going to care. Instant relief!
  9. Be a female, wear a skimpy bikini, go outside to do some sunbathing, show some cheeks, start an OnlyFans account, make big big $$$ off of thirsty guys who are still on step 1 or 5. You might still be hot, but at least you’re rich. If Corinna Kopf can do it, so can you.
  10. Just be thankful you don’t live in Baltimore or Central Florida.

So there you have it. I hope these tips help you in staying cool throughout this heat wave, or whenever life gets a little too hot to handle. Don’t forget that we’ve got new episodes of the Beantown Podcast every week without fail. See you there! Drizz out

Euphoria Season 2 – The EPIC and SHOCKING Conclusion

cast from left to right: sydney, rue’s lover, roux, northwestern dropout, patrick dempsay

Wow! If you know, you know, right guys? On Sunday night, HBO’s SHOCKING and EPIC and SEXY and apparently high school drama came to the epic and shocking Season Two conclusion. If you don’t know, Euphoria is a show with a lot of 30 year olds in it pretending to be high schoolers. At this point, I’m not sure if it’s meant to be a joke/parody, or if they’re completely serious in trying to pass off these middle aged people as 17, and at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. Anyways, it was the show everyone was talking about. It was wicked man. The vibes were like chill ya feel? WAZZZUUPPP. So yeah, if you thought ‘Oh Quinn, you don’t know hip lingo or you don’t have the chill vibes’ then you were wrong. So I’ve seen like 35 minutes combined of all the other episodes of this show, but I knew you guys, the Beanheads, would be craving my take on this one, so I spent an entire hour of my one day weekend watching the finale. Actually it was like an hour fifteen with credits! We didn’t watch the credits but I thought you should know.

I just want to say that it felt very catharctic to FINALLY have a show that portrays what high school is REALLY like. No class. No classes. A lotta drugs. Super white (ok that one is true for me). Hot moms. Hotter outfits. A lot of guns. It felt AMAZING to finally feel represented on the silver screen. Lady Bird was practically kindergarten. Now THIS is high school.

Before we recap what happened in the SHOCKING and EPIC Season Two finale, let’s meet the ensemble cast of characters. Again, these people more or less range from age 31 – 84.

Rue / Roux / Roo-Chains / Rootherford B Drugs – Portrayed by Zendaya (actual age, 31 or something). Supposedly this is the main character. She plays a drug addict. I think her father died this episode. There was a lot of jumping back and forth.

Kassie? I think? – Portrayed by Sydney Sweeney (actual age like 33 I think). Everyone hates her because she engaged in a consenting sexual relationship with a single guy, McSweeney, who we’ll talk about later. Idk I think she is america’s sweetheart.

Maddi – Portrayed by some 32 year old I don’t know (actual age I actually think she’s in her 30s). Apparently she used to date McDreamy. Now she’s just an Olivia Rodrigo wannabe. lame!!!

Lexi – Portrayed by Judd Apatow’s daughter (ok she’s probably only like 21). She dropped out of Northwestern after a year. Can’t handle the heat!!!!! Also everyone’s name has to end in “i” or “ie” or “y” to be on this show.

McSteamy – Portrayed by basically Walt Jr from Breaking Bad but worse (actual age has to be like 35). Everyone hates him apparently. I think he used to date Maddi, now he dates Kassi. I saw part of the first episode and he and Sydney were hooking up in a bathtub. It reminded me of me in high school, without the sex. What, I like baths.

Also, I don’t actually like baths. First, when you’re tall, there’s no way to fit entirely in the bath, so there’s always gonna be a part of you that is cold. Second, the whole thing is like a ticking time bomb. You make the water as hot as is tolerable, then when you can finally stand sitting in it submerged, you’ve got like 3 minutes before the water is too cold. Third, it’s really hard to properly wash your head/hair in the bath. When we were kids we would have a cup and you would dump water on your head like that big bucket at Magic Waters. You just get a bunch of soapy water in your eyes. You’re telling me this is supposed to be a relaxing experience?

Rue’s GF I think? – Portrayed by I have no idea (could be anywhere from 16 – 38). Idk, all she did this episode was tell Zendaya she misses her and she loves her. Didn’t Zendaya dump her in the SHOCKING and EPIC Season One finale? I think I heard that. Something to do with a train.

Fezcom – Portrayed by this one white guy (actual age – I’m positive this guy is like 42). I just learned during this episode his actual name is Fezco and no, he is not portrayed by Wilmer Vanderalma. You wanna talk missed opportunities, look no further. I think he is a drug dealer. The main antagonist of Euphoria.

Ashton “Kutcher” Ashtray – Portrayed by Fezcom’s brother (actual age – probably like 22 trying to be 7). This kid had it coming. Spoiler alert – He’s a cop killer. The main antagonist of Euphoria.

This other girl who I know nothing about but she is a little bit heavier (hard to say age-wise). I don’t mean to offend anyone. I literally don’t know anything about this one. I don’t think she had a line in this episode.

Rue’s mom (actual age like 83) – Total narc. Not cool mom.

McWaltJr’s Dad (60 year old trying to be a cool 45 year old). He lives in an abandoned warehouse with a transvestite and a guy in a speedo and I assume there was something illegal on that flash drive. Probably a deep fake.

Maddie and Kassi’s and Lexi’s Mom ? (actual age probably like 50 but she’s actually kinda hot). She’s someone’s mom, that’s all I know. The main hero of euphoria.

Ok so that’s basically it. There are a few other people like Roux’s sister, Roux’s dad who I think is dead, Mouse who I think everyone thinks is dead but he’s not actually dead, Fezcom’s girlfriend who is blonde and I don’t know anything about her, and I think that’s pretty much it. Oh and this one dweeb who played guitar for half the episode. Seriously, this episode was practically a musical.

So to recap in the episode, we’re basically inserted halfway into some weird community theatre play. I think it is directed by Judd Apatow’s daughter, who is either Maddie or Lexi, and I don’t really know what’s going on. There’s a blonde girl riding a merrie-go-round, and I think the horse is having sex with her? Sydney Sweeney is in the audience, so is Olivia Rodrigo, and then most of the other people too, including Rue. Also Rou’x funeral, oh wait no, her dad’s funeral, is happening right now. I don’t know if there is a time travel element to this show, it was not mentioned in the “Previously on” segment. So Sydney Sweeney is not happy about the sexually explicit content being featured, which makes sense because some of the people in the audience are supposed to be minors. So she basically interrupts the play, she’s like walking down to the stage and saying some gibberish I don’t understand at all. So she gets on the stage and starts talking, and she looks pretty rough, like she’s been crying a lot. Then the mom in the audience, who I think is her mom and Maddie’s mom, is like ‘oh no sydney come down from there’ and it is kinda awk because i don’t think this is planned. And Rue is in the audience doing the Michael Jackson popcorn thing. And Lexie is I think the writer of this disastrous play and she starts crying, probably cuz the acting is so bad. And sydney sweeney is just kind of grandstanding, then maddie comes up. I’m pretty sure they are feuding because sydney sweeney is dating mcdreamy now and maddie used to date him but she’s not over it so maddie is probably the main antagonist of Eurphora. Then they basically just start running around and it’s chaotic but there isn’t really any tension or entertainment value, they are kind of just running around. it’s really weird. And Roux and roue’s girlfriend keep looking at each other, spoiler alert, they’re gonna hook up off screen I think. And the bigger girl is there too. Is her name tanya? I think it is tanya. Oh and I just remembered this, there is an empty seat in the front row, apparently fezcom was going to be there. So eventually they all run off stage, but lexi is still there and she makes a speech which is dedicated to fezcom. Apparently she is crushing on him which is weird cuz he’s like looking REAL rough and is a drug dealer, but he stood her up, which is good cuz they do not have chemistry. And then they’re talking on the phone, I think this is in the future. Fezcom wants to live on a farm. I don’t know how he is going to peddle his drugs on a farm. Could be a good front though. I once saw an episode of justified where the guy was a butcher and he hid all his money in the hog carcasses. So just an idea.

Meanwhile while all this is going on mcdreamy is driving to the aforementioned abandoned warehouse where his father, Karl, lives. And he has a gun. I don’t actually know what McSteamy’s name is supposed to be. Looks like a Chaz. I’m going with Chaz. So Chaz walks into this warehouse, and it’s basically like the Count Olaf troupe from the Netflix adaptation of a Series of Unfortunate Events. We don’t get any explanation for who these people are or what is happening. I am pretty sure that Carl recently got divorced and is now semi-homeless. Chaz is NOT happy about that, so he has a gun. But he doesn’t do anything with the gun. It’s really weird. It doesn’t make any sense. Chekov is rolling in his grave. Nothing really happens, they just talk. I think Chaz was wearing a wire. Then the cops come, and Chaz gives them a flash drive. Lol, someone is living in the stone age. Karl gets arrested. There is no explanation given. Waste of a storyline.

Meanwhile while all this is going on we cut to Fezcom’s apartment. He is there with his blonde girlfriend. And Ashtry. and then this other guy, who apparently killed this one guy Mouse. We are not given Mouse’s real name. I would guess Justin. So Justin is apparently dead, and I think this other guy who is there, not justin, but this other guy, is wearing a wire, so he’s an informant, and he’s probably trying to get ashton or fezcom to say they killed mousse aka justin, but considering this all happened off screen, we don’t really know what’s going on. The blonde lady drops a glass and it shatters, then she starts to clean it up with her bare hands. What a dum dum. So then Ashtry kills the guy with the wire. Which is just about the most idiotic thing I can think of. You can’t just drop a police informant. Again, Ashtray is the main antagonist of Eurphoai. So then FEzcome is like “what did you do you little bitch?” and then the cops show up, understandably, because their informant was just murdered. So Fezcome is talking to Ahstry and he’s like “Let’s say I murdered this guy, not mouse, but the guy who was wearing the wire,” probably because Fezcom is already going away for life on drug charges. But Ashtray, who I think is a mute cuz he doesn’t really talk, is like “nah fam” and he grabs all these guns out of the washer dryer and locks himself in a bathroom, so the cops bust in, and Ashtray starts blasting wildly from the locked bathroom, and he even shoots Fezcome, which is a big twist because they were supposed to be good friends, so that was a surprise. Anyways, the blonde lady is on the ground, Fezcome is on the ground bleeding out, but I think he’ll be ok enough to make it in prison. The shooting stops, then the SWAT team opens the bathroom door, and that little bitch Ash absolutely blasts one of America’s finest right in the chest with a shotgun. Dude, not cool. So they go all Valkyrie on his ass and blow him to smitherines. FINALLY. That kid was awful.

And then there’s one other 5 minute scene where this Cordon Blue knock-off is playing guitar in his room and Rue is there. I think they used to hook up. He’s like “ooh bby can i sing you a song’ and she’s like ok sure. So he plays this really boring-ass song. For 4 unedited minutes. Who at HBO greenlighted this? biggest television debacle since the Dexter finale. I should watch that one too. Just the finale, I don’t need to see the rest.

So that was basically the episode. Rue and her ex lover might get back together, it’s unclear. Fezcom will probably die in prison cuz he is basically a cop killer. Maddie and Lexi and Cassie are all just in the school bathroom crying, apparently they’re friends again. McDreamy is kind of doing his own thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts hooking up with that one mom, like Stranger Things Season 2.

Overall, I did not care for this episode. Things were not explained very clearly. There was a cop execution. On HBO you often times get to see full nudity and there was no full nudity. My recommendation: Skip this one, and re-watch the Wire instead. 2 stars.

Quinn’s 2021 Caribbean Food Poisoning Island Extravaganza (or, Traveling from Punta Cana, DR to Chicago, IL while Suffering from the Worst Food Poisoning of my Life)

Heyo — Quinn David Furness here and I am coming in HOT with another new ‘instant classic’ sort of Beantown Blog post. Today is probably the first day in my overall recovery where I feel like can have any humor about the situation I’m about to describe, so pull up a chair, buckle up, hold onto your butts, and do all the other metaphorical things you need to do. Oh, and total vomit / diarrhea content warning, if that wasn’t already obvious. If reading about that stuff is going to make you sick, you might want to sit this one out. Or not. Because you know who couldn’t sit this nightmare out? Me. And also, Rachel. Let’s start there.

Rachel is an absolute champ and the total MVP of this situation. If you don’t know her, first off, where have you been living for the past year and half? We’ve been dating for that long and this was our first big international trip together. A common question when I describe the following incidents are whether or not Rachel had it too — She was fairly healthy during our trip thankfully, and I don’t think she had anything close to what I am about to describe to you. But throughout my entire fiasco, Rachel was amazing. I constantly woke her up due to a whole panoply of unnatural noises emanating from my body (if they’re looking for a sound effects guy for that next Jurassic Park sequel, I am your man). She bought us seats together (seems dumb but thanks Frontier!). She also dragged my ass through the Punta Cana airport as well as O’Hare, including bag check, customs part one, boarding, de-planing, customs part two, baggage claim, and securing a ride home from ORD. She bought me more gatorade and powerade than I can even remember. She even gave me her jean jacket to wear on the plane when I was getting slammed with fever and chills. She is my rock and I love her so much.

So let’s set the stage. We get to Punta Cana on Tuesday afternoon, and we were there until Sunday morning. The food in this place was…not amazing. Lots of buffet stuff, and nothing ever felt too fresh. Nevertheless, we were both able to pretty consistently find things we were willing to eat, and up until Saturday night, besides an upset stomach or two, we never had any major issues. Just sun, pools, beach, jerk chicken, drinks, more sun, and a lot of silly pictures. That is, until…

Saturday night / Sunday morning – 12:25 a.m: I awake. We went to bed around 10:30 or so. Bear in mind that we’d been living off of gin & tonics more or less for the last 5 days, so I figured those were finally just catching up to my stomach a little bit. So off I go to the toilet. Now, it’s important to understand that we were not only in a small hotel room, but the walls in this place were non-existent from a noise barrier perspective. Additionally, the bathroom had this weird pane of glass (like a frosted window) in the shower, and it was positioned such that when you were sitting on the toilet, you were looking directly into the shower at that pane of glass, and the bed is on the other side of it. When you turn the light on in the bathroom, the whole hotel room lights up (awful design), so I did everything you’re about to hear about in darkness so as not to wake Rachel with blinding lights, which isn’t vital to the story, but it just adds to the sense of despair I felt this entire time. And also blinding lights was the least of Rachel’s worries — The blood-curdling cries of a boyfriend in distress were probably more distracting.

I draw first blood, diarrhea style. Then I start thinking to myself, ‘Hey, is that nausea I hear?’ Oh yes, it sure was. Thankfully, the two garbage cans in our room were large, solid plastic ones, and may I say, great for vomiting. Perhaps the high quality of these trash bins was what kept me coming back for more! So I grab one “just in case” and head back to bed.

Five minutes later, 12:30 a.m: Boom – I sit up, and I am one of those people who when you know you know: Baby it’s vomit time. Let’s just say the floodgates opened. I am very glad I grabbed that garbage can because I was keeled over on my side of the bed doing my best niagara falls impression. From this point forward, I’m 97% confident neither Rachel nor I would sleep again until about 10 p.m. the following night. 22-hour travel day, nice!

Now, the remainder of this story will go on without timestamps, because let me tell you, the amount of delirium I was experiencing rivaled anything I’ve ever felt before. I was struggling to remember where I was. I kept going in and out of visions of the resort food in my head (which made me more and more nauseous). My head was playing a bizarre playlist of some of my favorite artists, including Chopin, The Killers, and Ben Gibbard. No I am not joking.

Very quickly, I developed my routine. I would head to the bathroom, shit my brains out, then about 3-4 minutes later, vomit my brains out into the garbage can while still sitting on the toilet (and occasionally the side of the bed, you’re welcome babe!), then immediately after, get the most intense sweat of all time for about 5 minutes. This all took about 15 minutes per cycle, and I would then go lie back down. After each time, I would sip a little bit of water, because you know, I really didn’t want to end up in a Dominican hospital bed hooked up to an IV. Yeah, there was no way water had a chance in hell of staying down for longer than 30 minutes.

This whole cycle occurred SIX TIMES. This was a new record for me. I’ve probably had diarrhea around 5 times in the span of a night after some bad Indian food or something, but a steady and consistent cycle of diarrhea, vomiting, then a quick yet intense sweat session six total times? Interspersed with wild, wacky, and miserable spells of delirium? Best slumber party of all time.

My last vomit posted at about 6 a.m., and if you’re curious, no, there’s really nothing left to puke up at that point, other than blood and what I assume were unnecessary sections of my small intestine. The diarrhea didn’t stop until well into Tuesday. Around 7-8 a.m. or so, Rachel gets up and gets moving (breakfast, packing, etc). I continue to lie in bed battling wicked fever and chills. The reality of our situation is finally starting to set in — Our shuttle is coming to get us at 10:20 a.m., and that’s just the start. We have to go from a remote island resort in the Dominican Republic to the north side of Chicago today. Dear God…

From 8 – 10 a.m., I sporadically force myself to stand and pack for our long journey back. I am not kidding you when I say I could only manage being up for about 2-3 minutes to collect and pack things before I physically felt like I was going to pass out. I tried my best to get a little water down here and there, but I really was not interested in vomiting in-transit (which was going to be from approximately 10 a.m. eastern until 8 p.m. central, so about an 11 hour travel day). Eventually, 10 a.m. arrives, and I just had to make the mental commitment to myself that this was happening. We were NOT going to be stranded in the Caribbean panicking while I was hooked up to an IV trying to figure out when and how to get back home. We make our way to the lobby, check out, then pack ourselves into a shuttle van with some of the least amount of legroom known to man. At this point, I really feel like I’m tempting fate. I wasn’t sure what was most likely to happen first — Explosive diarrhea, vomit volcano, or just casually passing out from dehydration. The worst part was the van had multiple pickups from different resorts, and each time you enter and exit a resort here, there are quite literally one million speed bumps you have to go over. These are always a nuisance, but when you’re feeling ready to just give up and die, they become extra irritating.

Eventually we make it to the airport. Thankfully, the line for check-in isn’t terribly long (probably 20 mins total for us). Rachel got us a spot in line and I casually sauntered over to the bathroom to shit my brains out again. I’m not even sure where all this shit was coming from at this point — Did the 10 gallons of gin I drank throughout the week just hangout until then? Unclear. As I returned to our place in line, I really started to notice what the rest of the day’s primary physical ailment nemesis would be, and while it is consistent with food poisoning symptoms and doesn’t sound as bad as what I’ve described already, it was by far my least favorite part of the whole experience: My body ached like I have never experienced before. I could hardly stand. My hips felt like they had just been sucker punched by Floyd Mayweather. 50,000 times. My calves were on fire. My internal temperature remained more or less actually on fire. My shoulders/neck area were probably similar to what Atlas feels like when he carries the earth (I don’t care if he’s a Titan, even those guys hurt). Any sort of walking / standing in line, which you do a whole hell of a lot of in airports (check-in, customs, security, boarding, etc) felt like the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. At one point, I believe I told Rachel I thought I was going to die, but to be honest, I don’t really recall anything I said that day. I am sure this was comforting for her to hear.

We get to our gate, and there is a lot people, noise, and food. Any scent of anything made me feel like I was going to puke out more of my non-existent stomach contents. Another bad part about the body aches? I wasn’t even comfortable sitting down. Like it didn’t matter what position I was in — If I stayed in the same body position for longer than 5 minutes, I would be in unbearable pain. So you can imagine how much fun I had on the plane, right? I spent the 4-hour plane ride with my eyes closed alternating every 5-10 minutes back and forth between sitting upright and sitting forward with my elbows on knees and head in hands wondering what I did to deserve this. Again, Rachel was a champ throughout all of this, and I’m sure sitting next to me this whole time watching all this unfold was a SUPER FUN and NOT AT ALL STRESSFUL experience for her. Love you babe. Oh, and if you’re wondering, no I could not even whip out Toon Blast and play that on the flight, my mind would not allow it. Oh, and Frontier seat technology should definitely be sold to the US Military for their labor camp experiments. I don’t know if we have those, but it seems like we probably do.

Finally, the 4-hour nightmare that was the flight was over. I could legitimately write another blog post about the flight alone, including the screaming kids 2 rows behind us who just LOVED to raise the armrest, drop it, let it bounce a few times, then repeat. For 4 hours. And so many other nice and pleasant things these kids did, but we should finish up here. Everything at ORD went relatively smooth, although again, it felt like we had to walk a 5k, and when you are feverish, nauseous, holding in diarrhea, and not completely aware of where you are or what you’re doing or what the meaning of life is, it’s a lot. Special shout-out to Betty and Jose Ramos for picking us up and driving us back to the north side — Much love and appreciation.

Around 7:30 p.m. local time or so, I finally arrived home. I threw my clothes off, grabbed a glass of water to have next to bed, got the puke bucket ready to go in case, and crashed. Recovery in the following days was very slow-going; I went from Saturday around 7 until Monday at 7 without eating anything (I think, hard to remember). It is now Friday, 5-6 days after the incident, and I think I am ok. I took a sick day on Monday to sleep / catch up on emails, so shout-out to my coworkers as well for putting up with my extra-extended time away. Yesterday, Thursday, was the first day I had without an awful sore throat from the six lovely puking sessions. Apologies to my esophagus / trachea / whatever.

This was not my first food poisoning adventure — I’ve had bad Chinese, undercooked tilapia, and at least one or two other bad experiences, but this was far and away the worst ever in 26 years of living. Rachel was amazing — Strong, confident, helpful, and a total babe throughout the entire experience. Thanks to all who read this far — I feel tough as an ox now.

Can’t wait to go back! Maybe!!!!!

I Miss My Old Apartment

Yes, even with Richard there. Hey folks, Quinn David Furness here. You didn’t think I’d let you go a whole year without a new Beantown Blog post, did you? Well, if you follow my show, you know that last Saturday was moving day for me. Unlike my last few moves, this one was inter-city, going from the quiet tree-lined streets of Rogers Park to the hustle and bustle of (technically) Lincoln Park but basically East Lakeview. Let me get one thing straight right off the bat — The benefits of my new location overall are immense, and I’m very grateful for them. I am within half a mile of a Mariano’s, a soon to be mini-Mariano’s, a Walgreens, a Trader Joe’s (who was Joe anyways?), a Walmart Neighborhood Market (haven’t built up the courage to try that one yet), and even a TJ Maxx. Does anyone know anything about their men’s collection? Is it any good? Also, what is going on with that extra ‘x’ ? It kind of makes you think it’s either a plus size store or one of those adult stores you see the billboards for in southern Illinois. Oh, and I’m super close to the train as well and my new work commute is literally half as long as my old one, so that’s awesome. AND I’m super close (for now at least) to my super sweet gf Rachel. She’s a total babe but that’s a topic for a different blog post.

But if you will allow me to ever so slightly complain / feel sad for just a hot second, I miss my old apartment. I think that’s fairly natural when you move to a new place / neighborhood. Heck, I’ve only been in this place for 6 days now and I am not even fully unpacked (if anyone finds the power cord to my PS3 please message me!!!). But I don’t know man, being on the first floor with a gigantic window to the outside is a little weird — lots of noise and people constantly walking past. And the mega-battle between me and the lingering cigarette smoke from the previous tenants feels like it could be a battle I fight throughout this entire lease. Also, the upstairs neighbor’s dog whines a lot and I am not the biggest fan of whatever Eastern European dance jams they have been playing at 3am lately. It’s also super crowded down here! I knew that going in — I’ve lived in Lincoln Park twice before in my life, but there was something nice and quaint about the simple life up in Rogers Park. And no back door? What am I supposed to do for haircuts now??

Anyways, I think it’s ok to feel a little sad and unsettled — I haven’t gotten the Tiger Blanket hung up yet. If anyone on the north side is reading this, hit me up! Let’s grab a drink.


My Last Shift at Kmart

Hey folks, Quinn coming to you LIVE after a little time away from the Beantown Blog. No, nothing is wrong. I just haven’t felt very creatively inspired under quarantine. I wonder how common that is? A lot of musicians and artists have managed to do a lot of live streaming and such but I tell you what, I just haven’t really felt motivated or inspired from either an art or a comedy perspective the last 3ish months. I don’t really have an explanation for it. That being said, times are wild right now. It’s hard to know how to feel, so I thought I’d share with you a funny little story to perhaps brighten your day for 5 minutes.

So anyone who’s known me for a while knows that I worked at Kmart in high school. The Big K. It was a family affair. My dad worked at Kmart. My brother worked at Kmart. I worked at Kmart. And it was cool because I was the token male teenage cashier. That’s not a common thing…most of the males who work at Kmart do stuff with stocking or loading/unloading. Me? I was signing people up for Shop Your Way Rewards and memorizing manager codes to correct prices that were consistently way off. To say the E State Kmart was poorly run would be…generous. Anyways, I started working at Kmart right after I turned 16 at the end of my sophomore year of high school and held that job for awhile. There were good times and bad times (mostly bad times), and I think I made somewhere around $8.00/hour, but hey, gas in those days was literally around $4.00/gallon, so you needed all the work you could get. When I went off to college, I knew I’d be getting that classic DePaul 6-week Winter Break, so I decided when I moved to Chicago, ‘Hey, I might as well keep this job. It’ll be nice to have when I come back home.’ According to the Big K policy (which I’m 95% certain was made up on the spot), I had to work one shift per month to keep my job. This was going to be a pain in the ass, but I decided to give it a shot.

October 2013 rolls around, I’m in my first couple weeks of school at DePaul, and I decide to come home for a weekend to work my one monthly shift at the Big K. I communicate to them beforehand that I’m coming in Saturday morning to work 8a-1p, and when the day finally arrives, I throw on my blue polo and head on in. In I walk, and it’s not long before I realize that no one at the store got my message, and I wasn’t on the schedule. That didn’t stop me from punching in! At first, I decided to kind of be a wildcard and tidy up and restock some shelves. However, after about an hour of that, I got really bored. Before long, I came to the conclusion that this was just going to need to be a run out the clock situation. So from about 9am to 1pm, I literally went into the men’s room, posted up shop in a stall, and stayed there for the duration of my shift. No smartphone. I might have grabbed a Sue Grafton novel but I really don’t remember.

Once 1pm hit, I casually clocked out at layaway and mosied right on out of there. Two weeks later, I mailed them a letter from Chicago that basically said ‘I’m outta here, fam.’ I think that’s really when Kmart started their downward spiral. RIP to the Big K and RIP to my first and hopefully only ever retail job.

P.S. I was going to write more but the ‘A’ key fell off my keyboard at the start of this post and it took me about an hour to write this much plus I’m grumpy now.

Daytona Deja Vu (or Dejatoyna Vu?)

Hey Beanheads–Quinn David Furness coming in HOT on a Monday morning. First things first, thank you to EVERYONE who made our 3rd Annual Beantown Podcast Pledge Drive Telethon Fundraiser such an immense success, and I’m not just saying that–We’re currently at $340 and more money is on its way from generous donors on the East Coast. I’m doing some traveling early on this week but as soon as I get back to Chicago, we’ll be reaching out with more information regarding our donor gifts. And of course, a special shout-out to those Topaz Elite Members–I think you get to board in Zone 1 on your next 3 flights? Text me and we’ll work out the details…

Anyways, coming at you with just a short lil baby installment of the Beantown Blog. Just a nice SHOT to get your week started. And if you have today off because it’s Presidents Day (I don’t), then enjoy this from the comfort of your couch. As you probably did not know unless you watch Fox News, yesterday was supposed to be the 2020 Daytona 500. Now, something that a lot of people don’t know about me because I generally don’t talk about it that much is that I actually like NASCAR quite a bit. More specifically, I like Jimmie Johnson–He’s not your prototypical/stereotypical stock car driver. He’s a cool guy from California with a wife and kids, he’s a big triathlete and marathon runner, and he’s got a fun beard just like me. Well, Jimmie has won 7 championships, tied for the most in the history of stock car racing, and this is his last year of racing before he retires. So you can probably see why I’d be a little extra invested in this year’s Daytona 500! As you probably did not hear, after about 10-15 laps, the already-delayed race was put under red flag for hours due to rain and eventually postponed until tomorrow (today which is Monday, February 17th) at 3pm CST. This is a problem. I have to drive to St Louis this afternoon and there’s no way around it, meaning it’s highly unlikely I’ll get to see any of the remaining 180 laps of the 2020 Daytona 500. You’re probably thinking, ‘Gee, Quinn, that’s a bummer but that’s only the 2nd rainout in 62 years of the Daytona 500 so it’s probably never happened to you before and it won’t happen again!’ Ha, we plan, God smiles. Allow me to take you on a journey back to 2012…

The year was 2012. I was really into NASCAR at this time as I had some friends down in Rochelle who were big fans as well, and frankly, these were the only people I’ve ever met in 25 years on this Earth who actually really liked NASCAR. So it’s a beautiful February day in late 2012, and there I go driving down I-39 to Rochelle, IL to watch the Great American Race with my friends. Well, it’s raining in Daytona. The race can’t even start. I probably get there around 1pm, we’ve got pizza, beer nuts, Mountain Dew, a whole big spread. So there we sit, waiting and waiting, watching Darrell Waltrip and Larry McReynolds play rock-paper-scissors for 4 hours on LIVE air until NASCAR eventually postpones the race until 1pm the following day, a Monday, also a school day. So I’m bummed out for obvious reasons, but I’m already cooking up a little scheme to watch the race the following day.

I gotta tell ya–My mom Jane might be the real MVP of this story. In a rare moment of allowing her kid to sacrifice education for NASCAR (first and only time baby!!), I convinced Mom to let me skip AP Calculus to come home early from school (just community college classes in the morning) to watch the race. So there I am, leaving classes around noon, strolling on home to catch Daytona. Except it was still raining in Daytona. This time they postponed it until 7pm. Uh oh. Big problem. Now not only am I FAILING out of AP Calculus (thank you MOM how could you do this to me???), but of course, I have the end of the year swim banquet that night, and let’s be honest, this is like the Oscars of high school sports. You just can’t miss it (unless you’re Dame Maggie Smith, and let’s be honest, my cheekbones just aren’t that high). So there I sit at the swim banquet in absolute agony, receiving updates every 5 minutes from my friends in Rochelle. What’s that? Danica Patrick wrecked Jimmie Johnson 30 minutes into the race? FML. And honestly, I don’t think we talk about this enough as a society, I’m so happy Danica Patrick was a huge failure in stock car racing. Yes, she’s more or less from my hometown, yes, it was very cool to see a female driver break through like that, but yes, she was also a gigantic pain in the ass who has an awful personality and cannot race to save her life. There, I said it.

So the swim banquet finally ends around 10 or something in that range–I RUSH home driving 120 mph down Perryville Rd because I wanted to really feel like I was part of the Daytona action. The second I walk in, the race goes under yellow flag (caution). Bummer. But hey, I made it, I’m in front of my TV, nothing can stop me now from catching the end of this race. HA! This happens (RIP Juan Pablo Montoya):

Hell of a run for that #42 Target Car

In case you’re wondering, yes, that is absolutely wild and completely abnormal. So, at this point, I still haven’t seen a single lap of green flag racing, but I sure as hell have witnessed one of the most bizarre accidents in racing history. Also, in case you’re wondering, this isn’t the type of accident you just clean up in 10 minutes then get back to racing. Nope, they had to first put out the fire, then clear all the trucks, cars, and debris from the track, then they rolled out the Tide detergent and a whole bunch of other chemicals in an attempt to repair the badly damaged track. Total repair time? Something like 90 minutes to 2 hours. Well do you wanna take a guess as to what happened in that time frame. That’s right–16-year old Quinn David Furness, all snuggled and warm on the couch late at night, falls asleep. Literally minutes before going back to green flag racing and after close to 2 hours of sitting there just waiting to see some real racing, I crashed hard (not as hard as Montoya but still). In the wee hours of Tuesday morning, Matt Kenseth’s #17 car, driving for Roush Fenway, had won the Daytona 500, and yours truly, Quinn David Furness, had seen exactly ZERO green flag laps of racing.

Looks like every 8 years at this point, I’ll get shammed from watching the Daytona 500. Can’t wait for 2028! Q OUT