So, last spring, I wrote about my deep disgust/giddy love for the little square of cheese called Chicago Scene. I think it's tacky and icky and not at all cool. But it's not for me. It's for the designer clothes/spray-on tan/super-cute crowd. And I was incredible thrilled to receive a gracious note from Chicago Scene Publisher Ted Widen. He gave props to our "little blog" here at Gapers Block and praised the "great writing." How sweet is that? Thanks, Ted. You are the tops.

And thanks for reminding me that Chicago Scene is quality Public Notice column fodder. Because all writing about Craig's List gets me is nasty notes from dudes wanting me to hook them up with all the best glory holes. For reals.

Back to Chicago Scene. If you haven't read it, please head to the closest chi-chi boutique, fancy gym or DePaul-adjacent bar and pick it up. Although the mag doesn't have classified ads, it does purport to contain the keys to finding love against all odds -- and that's what Public Notice is all about. This month's issue is a winner, chock-a-block with tips on life, love and laughter writtten just for the City of Toned Shoulders.

First, we give a nod to Chicago Scene' comittment to chronicle life as it is. In the layout on page 18, we find ourselves at Hogs 'n' Honeys on Sheffield. In the middle of young Chicago's desire to find love, there are Valkyrie-like waitresses on top of bars, legs akimbo, D-cups pressed against each other. Were you aware? How can you find love while their sumptuous bare midriffs trot around the floor? Wait, you're at Hogs 'n' Honeys. You're not looking for love anyway, right?

Next, we turn to a listing of the months can't-miss events. You never know where you'll find Mister or Miss Right, dig? So why not venture into Trixie y Chad territory to test the waters? I double-dog-dare you to attend the screening of the Bravo contest/reality show "Project Runway" at the W Lakeshore this Wednesday. Perhaps you'll find your future ex-whatever in line for mango martinis at the bar. Just ever-so-slights spill a bit of your cocktail on their sleeve and with a wink, offer to pay for the dry cleaning. Or just stab the back of his hand with a fork holding your number. Cool?

Finally, columnist Barbie Adler leads us ladies (well, you single ladies. I'm out on my newly married ass for this one) in the Top 14 Things Not to Do in 2006 -- if you want to get and keep that man! Such tips include accepting a booty call from the ex. Why not, I say! How is some no-strings sex going to keep you from finding the One. Right? Oh, that's because women are sappy souls who absolutely must attach love with sex. Coming in at #12 is "forgo shaving your legs as a form of hookup control." It's January. Who's shaving their legs anyway? When I got to that one, I was all, "Who the fuck is Barbie Adler? And why is her advice so basic?" Well, our good friend Barbie is the president of Chicago's Selective Search, which is described as a "personal recruiter for the city's most eligible, high-powered bachelors." Yeeeaaaah.

Although this brief account can in no way fully describe the joy this magazine brings me, I hope that it gives a taste of why Chicago Scene is my favoritest periodical. Because it's like spelunking in cotton candy caves. Like hopping pools of magical martinis. LIke something completely foreign, ridiculously alienating, and toothily indulgent. Read on, readers.