Signs of the Times part X

This is in a boutique window. This is sexist, right? I think it is.

The type of people who dress their kids like gangsters do seem like they would take advice from the top of a Reader box.

"Last night I stayed up late playing poker with Tarot cards. I got a full house and four people died."

Frankly, I don't find either of these butts attractive.

Tiny Leg and Signs of the Times (no commentary needed)

Street Eats

Around 10pm on Saturday, this SUV pulled up to the locked bathroom at the Turnaround (where CTA Buses, uh, turn-around and drivers take a little break. It's at Halsted and Belmont.) It was blaring Mexican music. A man and woman got out of the car and he unlocked the bathroom for her. For a minute they kissed in the doorway and my friend and I whispered, "Please both go in. Please both go in." They didn't. The driver went behind the little building and peed against the wall.

"I'm not even supposed to be here at the Irish Oak today!"

I love this sign. The photo is just the cut-out top of the box containing the frozen pot pie. Which, of course, anyone could buy in any store.

Random bag of popcorn.

God Loves, Man Hates, Aliens Probe Yer Butt

It's Gay Pride Parade!

Free Ass Smacks! But he regretted it as people kept sneaking up on him and smacking his arse.

The View down Belmont from Clark.

I, for one, welcome our insect overlords. I'd like to remind them that as a trusted blogger, I would be helpful in rounding up others to toil in their underground sugar caves.

Of course, with so much love and pride (Free Hugs, Free Kisses, $1 Ice Cold Water) there must the ubiquitous religious right platform telling everyone in hearing range that they're going to Hell. On the other hand...

This young lady was so infuriated by the above people that she walked from Clark and Belmont to the Belmont and Sheffield Walgreens where she bought some posterboard and markers. She plopped down on the store floor and made this sign. She is awesome.

Storms...within and without.

Next... on Hoarders...

Rotten, littering, senior punks...

Shelter from the storm...

Lightning Strike!

And, as with all things, it passes.

The Cubs Fall Flat

This used to be a statue. But someone kept rocking it and the metal braces broke.

This is a weekly delivery for one bar.

Don't know if you can tell, but that's an ambulance in front of Sluggers and then another one just 100 yards away for a separate incident at McDonalds. Crosstown Classic!

Cubs Fandom on the rocks.

Blackhawks Win! (part 2)

The Chicago Police Department begins to clear the streets with a line of mounted officers. Other officers command other people to move to the sidewalk. Around 1am, all the bars are told to close their windows and begin Last Call. The crowd is now being funneled toward Addison.

The first couple of passes didn't do much. The crowd simply retook the streets after the horses passed.

Around 2am, the crowds are pretty much dispersed or on Addison. Now the dirty work begins. Bouncers and store owners sweep garbage into the street for the street cleaners to pick up.

The bicycle officer who ignored me before doing a bang-up job of standing there.

Some random snippets of conversation:

"Dude, I wanna bail you out but I'm fucking poor right now. I know, I know you dinnit do nothing, bro..." - Guy on cellphone.

"I love you. I gave up my family for you, but we CANNOT go back to Sluggers!" - girl to tearful other girl.

It's Clark Street in Chicago. Every single weekend we get ...

The Thrill of Victory

and

the Agony of (personal) Defeat