ATLien. Droppin nolege from tha south fo' ya'll. It may be weird, but it's all true.

Sunday, May 29, 2005


I am real. I am an architectural aluminum fabrication sales person. I travel the united states speaking with architects, glass shops, and curtainwall erectors. Half of my time is spent "on the road." I sling heavy metal to the likes of the New England states, NYC, Northern Jersey, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Georgia, and South Carolina. Last week my travels took me to the parking lot known as Chicago. Fucking unreal. Retarded Midwestern drivers. First off, they have 28 interstates in the city. They change numbers and names without warning. One second your are on 290 west cruising along at -17 mph, the next thing I know, without so much as changing from a lane, I am going 3 mph on 90 east...oh, did I Mention there is a toll booth? Now 16 lanes become 43 lanes at the tool, then 43 lanes are merging back down to 2 stinking lanes. Traffic becomes a toilet flush as the lane lines disappear and courtesy vanishes from the windy city.
My travels also brought me to Wrigley Stadium...not Wrigley Field. See, ever since Harry Carey (most famous as the announcer for the Cubs and for singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" slurruing drunk) finally died of drinking his own fermented vomit for a buzz, there have been guest appearances of certain noteworthys that come to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" at the seventh inning stretch. Folks like Will Ferrell, Digger Phelps, Robin Williams, and others that probably didn't really appear, but we will assume they did for the continuance of my blogging. On this particular night the guest was Jeff Gordon, NASCAR's signature tool bag:

Hi, I'm an asshole

What was he thinking? The fans wanted to puree his organs and make rainbow smoothies. Incidentally the Cubs came back in the bottom of the eighth and scored 4 runs to win 4-2...i think.
P.S. Chicago: Your stupid ass "loop" on the subway downtown is retarded. On the blue line coming towards the loop it says that I can get off at Washington for the red line to take me to Belmont near the stadium. The attendant there tells me to take the brown line: "it's the same." If it's the same, then why not tell me where the red line is you dumbass. Well, I can't find the red line so I get on brown. Seems to work fine getting there. On the brown coming back, the board in the car says nothing about catching the blue at Washington, just the purple or some shit. I ride around the "loop" like a lost child until I come to a "blue transfer". Truns out the blue only comes every 45 minutes or so on this particular day. My bladder is seeping and my Depends undergarments were at capacity. I leave the subway to find a restaurant to pee in, but no such place exists. I find myself peeing in a dark alley in downtown chicago. I realize how proud I am of myself. My ipod battery dies as I run back into the subway (best $2 pee imaginable by the way) and I see the train pulling up. I get on and watch the retarded mid westerners blither and blabber the 40 minute ride to my rental car.
What a mess.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

thank you

10:38 PM


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