Twerve Days of Baseball

"This could be you."
MORGAN:

Devo: "Is it weird that it now seems normal when Morgan wears his jean cutoffs?"

A few highlights from Chicago: our 2nd trip to the Second City (anyone know why it's called the Second City? Is there a first city?)

- Wrigley Field's a real beaut. The ivy was green as I'd pictured it, the bleacher seats above the apartments are one of a kind, and the inside/outside stadium atmosphere can't be beat.

Check out the bleachers on top of the buildings in left.


Old-fashioned scoreboard and all.

- Post-game, I did my second Gance with band accompaniment. This time, however, the band altered their lyrics to fit my gancing moves. Well, at least this is what Ed and Devo told me--I was in a zone and didn't really hear much. "Locked in" is what they call it in the sports world.

- Douche Chill photo op at Wrigley: Ed pretended to take a picture of myself, Devo, and an unsuspecting Blue Jays fan with his video camera. Of course, he was taking a video, and not a still picture. Nevertheless, our naive Canadian friend held a pose for a few minutes, and that pose involved holding me in his arms. We also substituted the traditional "say cheese!" for "hot knees!" and "hymen!". O' Canada didn't know what a hymen was, and we weren't going to be the ones to tell him. That's a parent's task.

"Say HYMEN!!!"

- one ListServe for that arse.
Eric "Devo" Devon's Nicknames on the Trip (not counting Devo)
1. Hot Knees
2. Baby Tit
3. The Human Douche Chill
4. Glenn Humplik
5. Cheshire Cat

- Newsflash: Chicago's a legit city. Beaches, Tall Towers, Chipotle, 2 ballclubs, 1 beaut of a field, and plenty of places to chech yourself post-game. Tequila Roadhouse... are you kidding me??

ERIC:

First off, let me say that Cubs gear instantly makes any girl hotter. I have no idea why this is, but it's the truth. We had an awesome time at the Cubs game and after. On our way back to our hostel, we saw a sketchy scene in a cab. As we were walking by, I said "Hey, there's a shirtless dude in the front of that cab." As we got closer, the girl in the back seat had a distressed look on her face, basically telling us that she wanted the dude in the front out. The cab driver gave us the same look, so we opened up the door and started talking to shirtless man. While we were talking to him, Morgan opened the back door, and began to usher the distressed girl out towards another cab. When shirtless guy got out and started chasing after her, we set up multiple road blocks, preventing him from catching up to her. She got back into the original cab Han Solo and took off. The shirtless dude just kept half-crying "WHYYYY???? WHY DID YOU DO THAAAAT??" He told us she was his girlfriend, but she said ex. We took her word for it, and then he punched a parking sign really hard, and we walked down the street looking for the next bar. We felt like the Fantastic Four, saving a damsel in distress.

There were not as many bars between Wrigley and our hostel as we thought, but we did run into a group of 20 year old girls who had just come from some late-night grub. Morgan was in the zone all night, as his earlier gancing will show. He started talking some sort of nonsense to these very cute, very young girls. They told us they were underage, so I told them that Morgan worked for the DMV and could hook them up. Morgan then proceeded to have a 20 minute monologue, explaining how he administers the driving test and giving each of them a symptom of bad driving ("You are lead foot. You just drive way too fast.") He also told them he uses his belt to measure the vehicle's distance from the curb during the parallel parking part of the test, which sometimes frightens females who are taking the test.

At this point, I was exhausted and ready for bed, while the rest of the boys decided to go out and party till 6 am. So I might have taken some flak for booking us a semi-sketchy hotel in St. Louis, but the hostel we stayed at in Chicago this time around had zero amenities, namely air conditioning. It did have a shitty fan, but when I got home to try to sleep, it was about 90 degrees outside, with 98% humidity and the power on the whole street had gone out. There was no way I could fall asleep, sweating bullets in the most uncomfortable bed ever, with the remains of a red bull still coursing through my body. It was not a happy situation. I'm not quite sure what time it was when I realized the fan was working again, but it was absolutely not doing ANYTHING to cool the room off. I checked it out, and the fan was spinning the WRONG WAY, blowing air UP instead of down. Once I solved that problem, though, I realized that the fan was just a piece of shit and I was going to probably sweat myself into unconsciousness.

I must have finally dozed off, when the boys came in at 6 am drunk as shit, and asking me if I'd ever had my shit pushed in by a richer. Yadda yadda yadda, we made our way to finally getting some shut eye as soon as Morgan made an unsuccessful attempt at rubbing one out.

More blank filling and pictures coming later today...