Naked, Drunk, and Very Tired
What I learned from trying to live like a genius
It’s 6 o’clock in the morning, and my privates are the temperature and color of a blue raspberry snow cone.
I’m sitting on a deck chair on my open-air back porch, which overlooks an alley and half a dozen houses. It’s November in Chicago and the weather is a nippy 24 degrees. On any other day, I wouldn’t…