It started out as a Cub blog with cuss words. I'm still cussin'; it's the Cub part I'm a little squishy on these days.

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Thursday, October 27

This just happened...

This is what a blog is all about, isn't it?

As a couple of friends of mine and I were leaving our local pizza pub establishment after lunch, this, um, dude was stumbling towards us.

He was shuffling along, kind of the wasted "homeless" shuffle, except although he looked really bad, he didn't look homeless. He wasn't wearing, like, a dirty torn coat over a dirty windbreaker over a dirty hoodie. He was wearing a shirt like the one on the left. He was average size, puffy, dark curly hair turning gray, and I guess, he had a mullet, or as close to one as a curly assed Italo-Greek kinda guy could grow. He hadn't shaved, and as I said, he was wasted, or something.

We saw him coming from about six cars down, as we tried to undertake evasive action. We moved aside, but he slowly shuffled towards us, then we each took five steps to the right, and he changed direction again, so he ended up smacking his fat face RIGHT INTO one of the beautiful shiny pleather sleeves of my brand new Cubs varsity jacket.

Yeah, I kept it ree-uhl today, but as I have said, today's a day to be gracious, and I didn't want to engage. But this guy bellowed at me to "whuch wurra gong".

What? "Whuch werrya gongg".

Dude, I tried, you bumped into me. "Um gunna kickya inna crack. Fuggin CUBS!"

You're going to kick me in my crack? What the hell, let's watch him try. Ok, man, it's on.

So we watched him stumble his way around me, in order to get at my backside. Between my enormous girth and his glacial pace, it took him about six minutes. In the meantime, I had plenty of time to pose a defensive posture, but I didn't wanna spoil all the fun.

Finally, he corkscrews around like Paul Edinger, and swings a wild kick that misses my ass by about a yard. Of course, he falls in a heap, right in back of my car, so I have to wait for him to get up before I can back out to go back to work. Dude, go in and get yourself some coffee, and call your wife, mom, warden, whatever to get you home.