Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Root root root for the Cubbies

Heavens to Betsy it's a beautiful day out! So warm and inviting. You know what we should do, Dwayne? We should go into the city and see a Cubs game. We ain't gonna go to the actual game, it's too pricey. $6 a beer, and you can't bring your own coolers in neither. Also, I heard them Al-Kidas were wanting to bomb Wrigley. No sirrey, we'll just hang out in the neighborhood. Be sure to call and invite the kids, and tell 'em to bring the liddle ones too. Pack up Kaileigh and Kodi and Caighdynce and Austin's biggest strollers, and we'll all pile into three absolutely enormous SVUs. We ain't gone pay for no parking either, you can park on the streets up there in Wrigleyville for free! I guess you need some permit or something, but we never got no tickets. We'll park the SVUs in a row, with 7 feet of space in between, taking up nearly an entire city block. Ahe he he. It's going to be great!

We'll walk in a big flock down Addison and up Clark and around to Waveland, being sure to go extra slow to soak up all the culture and flavor of the city. We'll remark loudly and constantly about how we could never live there though, it's too spency and dirty and unsafe. Since we're fat fucks, looking like we consumed two of them skinny city folk each, we'll take up the entire sidewalk as we walk four deep. When any People of Color walk towards us, we'll cross the street. Don't want no trouble, you know? We will go into the boutiques and the men will yell the prices of the designer dresses and t-shirts to each other, guffawing. We'll make comments on how we couldn't even fit into one ankle into the largest size pants, as self-hatred gently gnaws away at our souls. We'll eventually settle into one of the outdoor seating sections of a bar on Southport, letting the kids run around freely in the restaurant and sidewalk as we get shitfaced on Miller Lite and White Zinfandel's. We'll talk loudly about how the food is dry and overpriced and not as good as what we could make at home as we shove it into our huge faces. We'll declare the waitress rude and leave her a 5% tip. Eventually, we'll shuffle on back to the SVUs, bitching about how we should get gas but it's over $3 up here, and finally we'll drive back to Milwaukee or Aurora or wherever the fuck we're from.

Editors note: Is Ronnie WooWoo ever going to go on a murder spree? Could this be the year?

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