Baby, light my fire

I don't know why, but every time Dave and I go downtown together, something lights on fire.

There was, of course, the car fire on Halloween. Then, tonight, we went to visit Mike for some Indian food in Lincoln Park, and find no less than 80 assorted police and emergency vehicles blocking off roads around Mike's apartment.

Apparently, there was a fire in an apartment building, killing two people. We knew something serious was going down, as the Chicago police don't bust out their finest helicopters for nothin'.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. What a weird night.