10.28.2009

"I Have Kung Pao Chicken!!!"


Said the overweight teen from the burbs with his face painted in his dilapidated trench coat.

That's great kid, can I have some? Oh, you're trying to be funny. I get it. It's because I'm Asian. That's original.

Your buddy up ahead with his tattered Insane Clown Posse, or whatever metal band, shirt up ahead is also doing a good job mocking the black gentleman who has headphones on. Yelling "I have fried chicken!!!" real loud is hilarious.

Your group of twenty hideous friends are so funny and original. The cold weather doesn't seem to affect those of you who are wearing short sleeves. Not to mention that the girls wearing their shirts way too tight they make the term "muffin top" a good thing. They're more like mushroom cloud tops. Yeah, I see you, you there, that girl with the pig tails, spitting. Or at least trying to, if you can't spit correctly, then don't. Yelling and making vomiting sounds after failing to expel your saliva properly so that it leaves a long string from your mouth will get you far in this world.

What's that? You still have have some Kung Pao Chicken? I'd like some if you really have it. Yes, I can hear you. Yes, you're still funny. It's evident from your cohorts laughing uncontrollably. They get the joke you're making. It's 'hey, there's an Asian, I'll make loud noises about having some Chinese food.'

Was there even a concert of some sort you were all attending? There are more of you around tonight? My, you all must laugh so hard when you tell everyone about how you made funny comments to a couple of guys while you were walking and they couldn't hear you. So funny. Loud noises get everyone's attention. Especially when you're wearing your clown make-up to emulate your beloved band. That ironic bloody clown make up really makes it that much better.

But I know what's really going on. You're a bunch of sad little children. You're in the city for the night to attend a musical event. I use that term loosely. Music, ICP, it's not my thing. You may consider it music, but it's a lot of whining and crying and yelling and a lot of loud obnoxious drumming and guitar playing that really has no melody.

Also, I know you're out to have a good time. Your idea of a good time involves the alleged public humiliation of others different from you. If different from you is a bad thing, count me in. I'd rather not be a snot nosed little (read fat) kid from the South suburbs who comes into the city doing what you do. Looking like idiots. The paint on your face just masks the real deal underneath. Insecure, bullied children who have come together to try to make others feel beneath you.

Guess what? You're not being as successful as you think. Sure you're making each other laugh. But everyone else is looking at you. Judging you. It may not be fair or right, but I'll be damned if they're not all thinking the same thing... GO BACK HOME! Your racial innuendos are not needed here. I understand that perhaps in your little suburb, that you may not have a diverse population. But here, in this city, you'll respect the diversity. You are just making yourselves look horrible. But then again, you've already done that on your own, without uttering a syllable. Your horribly painted faces, your tattered, ill-fitting, clothes and your general unkempt appearance speaks for itself. Not to mention the unnecessary yelling I heard from a block away, with headphones in.

So that's great that you have Kung Pao Chicken. It's a great meal. But where in your baggy pants, ripped at the bottom, and your torn trench coat are you storing it? In your corn rows and pig tails? Perhaps behind your grease paint? Wherever it is, you should probably take it out, it's going to cover up the stench of pork and manure you're so awesomely emitting. By the way, it seems as if the plumbing in your part of the world has some how gone horribly wrong. The showers must be down as the smell of B.O. just makes me sick.

Off to McDonalds are ya? Why aren't you going in? Oh, so they're not letting you in? I'm sure all the Black people in there would love to hear your commentary on fried chicken.

4.20.2009

It's Not Good...

Saturday, on the way to Navy Pier, I took the Blue Line to the Grand Avenue stop. Normal for the most part, except for the single track from Division onward. Oh, and yeah, the homeless lady who just straight up stank like no other.

Woman walks in from the other car, totally looking like a homeless woman what with her nick nack bags and all. Stopping every few rows to bother some poor unsuspecting individual. She gets to where I'm standing on the other side of the train by the door to the other car. I move to let her go, and she stops to give a pound to some stranger who reluctantly does so. But then the smell hits. Seriously. She smelled like urine. Fresh and stale. I got so disgusted that I got nauseous. Had to move to another part of the car. Still then, the stench lingered so much that I feared for my intestinal fortitude. I felt sorry for whomever had to sit by her. Or stand by her. Or be within a wiff of her. That just can't be healthy.

2.20.2009

12.17.2008

What's She Thinking?

Um, WTF?



She's engaged to this guy:



It's not the cradle robbing that irks me. It's the two dead wives he has.

12.10.2008

Neuro... -tic, -sis, -n



It's the crazy things that go in my head that scare me.


Sometimes I scare even myself. And other times I am amazed at what will cross my mind at certain times.

12.09.2008

Oops



Yesterday, as I made it down the especially slippery stairs of the Washington Blue Line stop, a gentleman was handing out cards hailing the completion of the work on the Blue Line and thus eliminating "Slow Zones." Funny though is that it took an inordinate amount of time for the next train to come through. Sure the Slow Zones were eliminated, but the scheduling and staggering of the trains still leaves much to be desired. There have been times where I'll catch a train that just pulled in and yet other times when it seems as though ages have passed before the next train is even remotely in sight. Only to have the oncoming train run express and the proceeding train be packed.



And oh yeah... this guy's a winner:



Seriously Blago, what were ya thinking?!

12.07.2008

11.26.2008

Open Letter to "Continuous Riders"


Dear Homeless aka Continuous Riders,

As the winter roughly makes its' presence known, we understand that we're all in it together. We understand that some are more fortunate than others when it comes to heating and shelter. We understand that the spaces beneath highways, the park benches and the alleys provide little to no comfort during these trying months. We cannot fathom the trials of having to stay warm during freezing nights and sub zero temperatures. We understand that the cars on the train provide what could be a welcome respite from the cold. That your hard begged/found two dollars can get you some solace from the harsh winter for a fleeting moment. That said, here's my issue.

Is it necessary for you to take up an entire bench on said train? I too like to sprawl out when I'm fast asleep. But to inconvenience other riders is, well, an inconvenience.

This morning, I was thoroughly enjoying my quiet ride into work and was amazed that I actually did get a seat. The lucky few who took the day off or were given the day off made the commute less congested. But of course, nothing comes without a price.

My comfortable ride became a bit uneasy as we left the Division stop. At first I felt a slight graze on my leg. At first I thought nothing of it. Maybe it was me itching my leg, but I'm fairly confident it wasn't and I'd know if it was me after all. Then I felt a nudge. Certain it wasn't me I looked behind me and lo and behold, it's the gentleman who was roused from his slumber by the inconsiderate pregnant woman who dared sit next to him in the open seat. Seeing as he needed to take revenge and taking it out on a pregnant woman would most likely earn him the ire of many on this train, he must have decided to take it out on the unsuspecting and most likely less dangerous me. Or maybe he was just stretching. In either case, he proceeded to kick me a few times. Disturbed by this, I decided to give him a quick glance to perhaps deter him from furthering his course. Unfortunately, as I turned, his eyes were closed. A few more kicks, one more look from me and another kick. I decided that perhaps giving a quick kick back or a nice solid stomp on his foot would stop him, but I decided that being the holiday season I'd just let it go. But really, was it necessary to touch me? I don't like anyone touching me yet alone someone dirty and strange. I got off at my stop looked and his legs were still strewn about under the seat. I walked off and started my day.

Last night as I was getting off the train on the way home, the all too familiar and still unsettling aroma ran across my nose. My olfactory sense was abound with warning. There he was, my boy Blue. Equipped with his many accoutrements. No less than 3 garbage bags. The odor so unbearable that all those around had a finger fixed to their nose or gloved hand covering their mouth. Thankfully I was only privy to this display of amazing hygiene for a brief period of time and was relieved by the fresh air once I exited.

In any case, I should be used to this by now but nonetheless it still disturbs me. There are those who are willing to put up with the smell, the touching and the sight of it all. But to me, it's just gross.

11.18.2008

11.05.2008

Yes, We Did!


November 4, 2008

Grant Park, Chicago, IL

President Elect Obama:

Hello, Chicago.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who've been told for so long by so many to be cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this date in this election at this defining moment change has come to America.

A little bit earlier this evening, I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Sen. McCain.

Sen. McCain fought long and hard in this campaign. And he's fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.

I congratulate him; I congratulate Gov. Palin for all that they've achieved. And I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart, and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on the train home to Delaware, the vice president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next first lady Michelle Obama.

Sasha and Malia I love you both more than you can imagine. And you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the new White House.

And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother's watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight. I know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my sister Maya, my sister Alma, all my other brothers and sisters, thank you so much for all the support that you've given me. I am grateful to them.

And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best -- the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America.

To my chief strategist David Axelrod who's been a partner with me every step of the way.

To the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington. It began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston. It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.

It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep.

It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth.

This is your victory.

And I know you didn't do this just to win an election. And I know you didn't do it for me.

You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime -- two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.

Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us.

There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after the children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage or pay their doctors' bills or save enough for their child's college education.

There's new energy to harness, new jobs to be created, new schools to build, and threats to meet, alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there.

I promise you, we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president. And we know the government can't solve every problem.

But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years -- block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night.

This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were.

It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other.

Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers.

In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let's resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.

Let's remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity.

Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.

To those -- to those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.

That's the true genius of America: that America can change. Our union can be perfected. What we've already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.

And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.

Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.
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This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.

10.23.2008

A Rant

I love living in the city. I truly do. There are, however, things I would like to change. These things should not come as a surprise to anyone.


Firstly, I must address the tourists downtown. Yes, it's a pretty city. Yes, there are a lot of tall buildings. Yes, there are a lot of shops for you to purchase your trinkets and souvenirs. But could you please stay to the right on the sidewalk? Or at least walk faster? The buildings don't move as you walk nor do they change in appearance. Garrett's isn't going anywhere anytime soon so you don't have to stop in the middle of the street to take a picture. Also, your entire family doesn't have to take up the entire sidewalk as you stroll at a leisurely pace. I don't think it's going to hurt you if you walk in a single file, or even two abreast. But the 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 or 10,000 across just won't cut it. Some of us would like to get our food or get home and not have to stop every five steps to marvel at something with you. We've seen it before. I'm also going to need you to leave your annoying kids at home.

Slow walkers aren't just tourists. Oh no, there are some pedestrians who are just that, pedestrian. Apparently, walking AND talking on a phone causes some persons to advance down the sidewalk at a sloth's pace. "Really? She did not say that!" Does not mean you get to stop abruptly in the middle of the intersection when the walk sign is already flashing 'Don't Walk.' I hope you get hit by the bike messenger next time. Also, texting/e-mailing while walking certainly will impede your journey down the concrete path. So, here's an idea: either pull aside and text, or don't text while walking. Yeah, the 5 people behind you are on pins and needles waiting for you to send that hilarious text to your buddy. And c'mon, really? Cargo pants?


Umbrellas. I think I've ranted about this subject before to people. But downtown is congested already as it is. Throw in a little rain and it becomes a gauntlet. Is it necessary for you to use a beach umbrella to cover yourself from the WATER?! It's only rain afterall, and last time I checked, it wasn't acidic. That's great that you went to the PGA Championship in '99. Your umbrella is so awesome that it takes up half the sidewalk not allowing anyone else to have any room for theirs. You douchebag. And really, you're the only one with an umbrella pops. It's drizzling, meaning that even your wife isn't under it and is covering her face while everyone rushes past you.

Who doesn't love dogs? They're so much better than the allergy sneeze inducing minions of Satan otherwise known as cats.

But dog owners, I implore you. Take control of your dogs! Firstly, isn't there some sort of leash law that requires owners to walk their dogs in public on a leash unless in a leash friendly zone in a park? I don't enjoy it when Muffin over there is growling at me while I'm trying to get a pack of smokes. No, she's not that big, but when the little terror of a dog looks like it's about to go for my jugular, it's a problem. Next, please pick up the poop! Nothing says good morning than a big steaming pile of dog feces to wake you up. This next one's reserved just for the Trixies. If you're too busy texting or talking on your Blackberry Pearl to pay attention to where you and your dog are going, don't walk the dog(s).
The paths in and around Lincoln Park are for both bikes, runners, roller bladers and pedestrians. You and your dog(s) don't get to take up the whole path just because you and Chad are trying to figure out when you're going to hook up next after the bars. Next time, my bike and I won't almost get hit by a car while trying to avoid your zig-zaging path you call walking.

Last one, maybe. To the bums on the trains. Can you not sleep in the trains when it's peak rush hour period? The entire capacity of the car is on one side of the train because you, my friend, stink.
It's taking all my intestinal fortitude, not to mention my sweater covering my mouth and nose, to not vomit. I know you may not actually be homeless and you just have really bad personal hygiene, but good God, if that's the case, take an F'in shower! If you are homeless. I apologize, you probably have bigger things to worry about than our olfactory sense. And also, stop changing cars while the train is moving. The suburbanites are getting really scared when you come into the car telling people you won't leave until someone gives you some help. Getting down on your knees just makes you look desperate, well even more desperate. Oh, and thanks for lugging along the seven bags of empty aluminum cans, they really don't take up much space other than the only open seat on the train.

But hey, on the bright side, the weather's turned crisper, the wind seems to have picked up and the pretty colors are back.

That is until the icy grip of winter comes rolling through and we're miserable again while we dig our cars out. I need a cigarette.

9.08.2008

8.28.2008

If You're Out There

Great song fitting a groundbreaking campaign:



Si se puede.

8.22.2008

8.20.2008

8.15.2008

7.31.2008

Welcome Back.



This guy's back for another stint in the MLS. Who wouldn't want a guy like this?