TheBunnyBlog.com: My return to Chicago; IV

My return to Chicago; IV

The next day.

I feel like a can of smashed assholes. I drive my sister to her doctor so she can get an epidural to numb the nerves around the two bad discs, wishing I might get one for my head, though I know it is a scientific impossibility. Yet another reason to hate science and its countless limitations. It is cold and angry again, I've no sexy guy to fuck and the shame of last night's Carol's toss is really getting to me. Eee gads, was that necessary?

I drive to Stanley's on Elston for some mangoes, for there is no better mango than a Stanley's mango, delectible pesticide-coated piece of manmade perfection it is. When I get there, the mangoes are overly ripe, too sweet and tiny. I am irate. Can't I relive any good Chicago sense memory?

I wait for my sister to finish up with her epidural at the Dunkin Donuts around the corner from her doctor's office. I sip coffee and watch the news from the TV mounted above the door. Lou Pinella's miserable mug is all it shows. I know the Cubs are in trouble, slumping and such, but that's no excuse to hire Beelzebub as team manager.

My dealings with Lou were brief and took place in the last century, but left me with the lasting impression that he is a pompous shit stain. When given the task of creating an ad campaign for the 99'-00' Devil Rays, I had the following list of attributes to work with:

-Tropicana Field is air conditioned
-Devil Rays tickets are cheaper than movie tickets

I found lots of multicultural families. We put them in the stands of Tuna-Cana Field and shot pics of them having a really good (fake) time, and made that season the "Family Fun" season. Lou Pinella went apeshit. He wanted to roll with an "America's sport" Walt Whitmanesque theme (black and white pics of baseball stars of yore). I thought this was such a good idea since the team was three years old and no one in town gave a flying fuck about it, nor did they want to go to a cold, dark can to sit alone and watch their team lose by ten runs in uninspired fashion and flat forest green/gray/navy unis. So yeah. "America's Sport." Such a good idea. We went with "Family Fun."

"What the fuck are those fucking billboards!? Take those fucking billboards and shove them up your motherfucking asses, you fuckwits! I'll fucking fire all your asses you fucking fucks!"

All my vitriol comes rushing back up, along with the three peaches I'd consumed at Stanley's, though the man I'm remembering here is named Vince Namoli and Lou Pinella has shit all to do with this entry or my vitriol. I so belonged in sports advertising. It was definitely my calling.

However...tell me that doesn't look a wonky tuna can?

Comments

I would have believed you if you had left the last post the way it is. But, either way, it does look like a tuna-can and several people have actually mentioned that as we pass it.

Posted by: Ben Holub at October 18, 2006 07:12 PM

Thanks for all the great posts reflecting on Chi-town. And I agree with the tuna can look. I lived in St. Pete for a time and never like that shithole of a place. I did a few home shows there and still think it is a massive waste of real estate.

Love ya, Ms. Bunny!

-Ronin

Posted by: Imaronin at October 19, 2006 08:50 AM

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