Wednesday, April 20, 2005
I'm sorry everyone, but it's not what you think. Let me explain, it was a late night on Chicago's Westside and I was a little bit tipsy from my friend Jody's party. It was about 2 a.m and we couldn't get a taxi so we decided to walk back to the hotel.
Now usually, I'm a big boy and I can hold in what I drink, but it was something different about that night. The cool Chicago air seemed to rest and I was drawn into a melancholy daze over the rhythmatic sounds of the sirens that reverberated of of my ear drums like ping pong balls. As if a human of its own, it yelled and screamed to let it loose. It beat up my stomach and i could hold no longer. It banged and banged until I obliged.
I didn't want to just piss on someone's lawn or in the alley and be snatched up by a homeless guy, so the underpass was my only option. I slowly unzipped my baggy 36x34 Old Navy boot cut jeans and whipped out Willy and I did my thing. No one was around but Ashley and Steve and they treated the incident with as mouch thought as blinking an eye. We went on and I stumbled into the street enough to feel the friction of a 94' Thunderbird. To us, that was the end of the story, another day in the life of an urban rebel. I didn't expect hundreds of people to flock to it and proclaim it the Virgin Mary.
Taken from The Young Liberals.