John Hughes is dead. It’s all over, people.
I can’t even, I, this is, oof. It’s like, my whole life I saw Chicago through John Hughes’ eyes, and then the day I arrive here, the first time in 13 years, feeling a little like Curly Sue (dirty, sitting on the corner with all of my belongings, brushing my teeth in a restaurant bathroom, convincing Judi to hit me in the face with a 2×4) he dies. THE BLESSING!!!!!