Thursday Tee Shirt Showdown

Contestant #1 hails from the Blue Line this morning, Oak Park stop, 7:55am. Weighing in at really fucking fat, and sporting a pair of comically small round sunglasses that looked like a pince-nez on his fat head, though no Teddy Roosevelt was he. He was of non-disclosed Hispanic origin, but clearly American. In addition to his obesity, he was adorned in jean shorts (jorts, if you will), basketball shoes that were capable of supporting a level of athleticism he could never hope to even feign, a bad ass thin chinstrap beard, and lastly a blue tooth ear piece. Obviously he did not currently, and probably never will have, any business to conduct on the blue tooth device, but at least he has one. His travel companions were an equally obese woman who appeared to be his “home girl” and a shorter, yet far wider Latina sidekick. We’ll conservatively say she was “morbidly” obese. Annoying everyone on the train with their loud, frivolous banter was awful enough, but not nearly as awful as home girl insisting that she sit on the lap of our poor fat man’s Enrique Igelsias, despite it being clearly unnecessary, and even more obviously uncomfortable to both rotund parties involved. When pressed by their friend, the esteemed Ms. HamHock, as to why they were seated thus, our protagonist responded “We used tah do it all da time back in da day. Why not nowww?” The esse-speak was so forced as to be painful, almost Caucasian in its nerdiness. As for the tee shirt, it was large, gleaming white, and said:

“I Brought the Awesome to the Party [Giant Stewie Griffin Picture looking "hard"] What did You Bring?”

And boom goes the dynamite.

Contestant #2 hails from smoking cigarettes at the al fresco seating area of the Elephant and Castle on the corner of Adams and Clark, within the Club Quarters, at 4pm. This despite not patronizing Elephant & Castle in any way, whether food or beverage order, and in bold defiance of numerous posted “No Smoking” signs in all corners of said area. Weighing in at white trash malnourished, with a greasy center-part dirty blond long straight hair cut, because what the fuck are you lookin’ at, mutherfucker? In addition to his meth-cut physique it seems that jean shorts would carry this day, though black was the color of choice for #2. His look was rounded out with off-brand white tennis shoes of a size incongruent with the rest of his body, high black socks, and extensive facial pock-marking. His “Ol Lady” appeared to be stoned, though anyone’s guess as to her poison of choice. If pressed, I would speculate she was trying to climb out of a K-Hole with the aid of Ice (crank, meth, Kentucky Coffee). Her haircut was awful in 1983; virtually indefensible in 2013. Her acid washed jeans were not made for 92 degree, humid days, but wear them did she. #2 smoked his off-brand heater in brash indifference to the barely-lucid tirade his Ol Lady was on about “Then you tell me how the fuck we’re gettin’ on the mutherfuckin’ train then?” Through the smoke-rings and aggressive devil-may-care Camaro-lust attitude aimed directly into the pussy-music face of society at large, there was a black tee shirt which read:

“Born to Rock and Roll. Forced to Work”

And there you have it. The new Hispanic face of America’s future in all its glistening porkfat second-generation adoption of our abhorrent eating habits versus a bygone era of manual day laborer Teddy Nugent air guitar street speed addiction cigarette wrinkles. Who ya got?

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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