Chicago road trip: Cubs, Lollapalooza, sightseeing and booze

Get yourself some of those Italian beef sandwiches. The natives can tell you the best places.

Damn tasty. Sloppy as hell, and probably not healthy, but oh so good.

Love the Chicago hot dogs, too, the Vienna beef dog dressed with all the stuff including the neon relish, pickle spear, tomato slices and peppers. No substitutions allowed on the toppings and, for the love of God, don't try to put ketchup on one. A native will go Belushi on you if you do.

Is Miller's Pub still around? Old school sports place in the Loop with all kinds of neat vintage black and white photos of people like Dick the Bruiser on the walls. Get the ribs.

 

Now why in the hell would you substitute toppings?

Those hot dogs kick ass. Can't do the Italian beef, though.

 

We live in a scary world where some people put pineapple on pizza.

 

Sometime this weekend I'm getting a Chicago dog with onion rings on the side and a root beer. That's been added to the list.

 

Because I am retail deprived, and because no Chicago thread is complete without talk of shopping:

1. State Street, in the Marshall Field's area
2. Woodfield Mall out in Schaumburg
3. Shops at Northbridge on Michigan Ave.
4. Michigan Ave. around Chicago Ave.
5. little boutique shops around Chicago Ave. in Evanston
6. Oak St. between Michigan and State
7. Lincoln Park near Armitage/Halstead

 

I once saw a little boutique shop in Evanston, just off the main drag.

It had some boards on the windows and doors. Some police were sitting in their cars, waiting for it to open.

 

Speaking as someone who has lived and died (mostly died) with the Cubs since he was a small child, I implore anyone who wants to attend a Cub game just for the chance to see Wrigley Field to stay the fuck away. This team is a fucking miserable piece of shit and the fucking motherfuckers who own it should be taken out and shot. Do not give these cocksuckers one fucking dime. Stay away. Stay the fuck away. Fuck the motherfuckers who employ the motherfuckers who hired the motherfucker who sucked all the motherfucking life out of the motherfucking team I'm followed all my motherfucking life.

Stay the fuck away. I'm begging you.

 

Especially if you are one of those little fashionista chickies who will go to a sporting event in high heels, $500 jeans and body glitter, then proceed to paint your nails and talk on the jewel-encrusted cell phone the entire time you're there. Stay the fuck away.

 

Cadet just needs a local Marshall Field's and she'll be OK. I promise.

That said, I <3 Chicago. My favorite thing was to walk between the Trib and Sun-Times buildings. To me, that's how competing papers should be -- facing each other. Don't know why, but that always gave me the goosebumps.

I'd go to the Billy Goat, too. Just for kicks.

 

And if they don't stay away they should be lit the fuck on fire along with the fucking gay ass frat bitch fuck they went to the fucking game with.

 

Thank you, Armchair. Those fuckers make me want to poke their eyes out with the well-sharpened pencil I use to keep the scorecard.

 

Dear Armchair: Thanks for that fabulous rant. An adult life spent in Boston has made me see how fortunate I was to grow up a Phillies fan. That's a team and a town that will never be trendy or have George Willsian, Ken Burnsian, "meaning" baggage. They're just another shitty ballclub.