When the Robot Holocaust finally comes, I hope that I spend my final moments in a proper Irish pub. With a Guinness and a smoke in my dying hands. I figure, if it's my last moments on earth (before I'm harvested for battery fuel), I'm going to go out in style.

Irish pubs have become a bit Disneyfied around here, though. Too many brand-new "pubs" dropped right next to ritzy shopping centers. You can shop all day and have a watered-down pint of stout afterwards while staring at "ancient" bagpipes and tin whistles hanging from the walls.

There's a few good ones around, though. Jimmy's in Peoria was my hangout during college. The Roisin Dubh in Galway, Ireland is the best I've found.

I'll be at Quigley's in Naperville at 7:00 on December 30th. I'll be turning 33 that day.

I used to be the prince of house parties a few years back, but since I downsized to this apartment I can't throw 'em like a used to.

New Years was my specialty, but I'm taking a break from hosting that for a while. So #33 it is.

So all you readers out there, specifically the ones in the area, and who actually know me (although that's not a requirement), come on down to Quigley's. It's not too bad for a Naperville bar. And the girls wear these plaid skirts that drive me crazy.

We'll have a pint or two and enjoy the holiday season.

That's my birthday wish--that I get to see all my friends all crammed into a pub together, having a good time.

Hope to see you there!