White Sox Eat Mule Cock!

And so it has begun, another baseball season. (Sorry for taking a week to notice.)

Another season of watching the Chicago Cubs tack up another "Wait 'til Next Year" banner.  This should make #103, if I'm counting correctly. We currently have more of these championships any other team—suck that Yankees!

So, did we make the right trades in the offseason? I'm going to go ahead and guess no.

Is Mike Quade merely a cheap bridge until we can overpay for the next used-to-be great manager on his way to retirement? I'm going to go ahead and guess yes.

All this said and I still love the Cubs. Have since my first Keith Moreland baseball card slid out of its wax paper wrapper along with that famous pink cardboard stick of gum. Have since they fell apart in 1984. Have since I moved 300 miles away from home so I could live 5 blocks from them. Have since I worked the door at the Cubby Bear across the fricken street from Wrigley.

Every Cub fan has a million stories like these. Stories of disappointment and woe. Horrible, breath stealing, daggers to the lungs stories.

Every Cub fan also has a million endearing stories of Wrigley. Skipping work to catch a 1:20 game and drink whatever red colored hell in a plastic cup they serve under the bleachers. Punching some drunk in the face after a Cubs loss. Cramming onto a Red Line train, with no A/C in July, with 5000 half-juiced, booze sweating fans. Dancing with Vince Vaughn at some over crowded sports bar after a win.

So, does the good outweigh the bad? Does the debauchery, the fun and the insanity of being a Cubs fan out shine the losses, the bad management and the bloated paychecks of semi-washed up players and players that just don't pan out?

Millions of Cubs fans have died since they last won a championship. And millions more Cubs fans would like Steve Bartman's head on a spit.

Sure this may not be our year. Or maybe it will be. Agree or disagree, the one thing we can surely all agree on is... The White Sox Eat Mule Cock!

Things that should be banned: The Men's Room Trough.

I hate the men's room trough. It's one of the worst things on the planet. To me, it's right up there with feline leukemia, terrorists and sandwiches without cheese.

Let's go down a list of 10 reasons why these things should be set on fire. Oh wait, we can't set them on fire. That's right, because they're full of piss.

1. What are you looking at?  

First and obviously, WHERE ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LOOK? This isn't like having your own urinal where you can drop a glance down whenever you need to/want to and then look around almost anyplace else in the restroom for the next minute to minute and a half. Not with a trough, it's straight ahead and no place else after you line everything up. But, pause to long while you're looking down and your next door neighbor is either your newest best friend or your newest worst enemy. It's an odd game to play.

2. Splash back mountain.

Guys, we've all been there; waited too long between pit stops or had one too many beers and one too many songs at a concert. So we rush to the restroom, with a stream of justice that could make a fire hydrant look like a 70 year old man on Flomax, and BLAMO! Splash back!

Now, it's either on the back of your hand, sprinkled on your shoes or flip flops or worse, it has created that, "I'll just claim the damn sink turned on too quick and that's why my jeans are damp," spot on your pants.

3. That guy.

Yeah, you know who you are. Three of us are already almost shoulder to shoulder and you decide you're going to cram in. Which causes...

4. The shift.

It's tough enough getting comfortable at the trough, then "that guy" squeezes in and you have to sidestep while you're mid-piss. Really guy!?! Really!?!?

Now, you've got three guys looking down, while trying not to look at each other, crab-walking, getting everything re-adjusted and trying to prevent splash back on themselves and the guy they're suddenly 16 inches closer to. All because some asshat couldn't wait another 24 seconds for one of us to finish up.

5. San-a-flush!

Yeah, these things never flush. Some water might dribble out every once in a while but that's just another target to avoid or again...splash back. And sure there's a drain but it isn't getting the smell out of the air. If you've ever been to the Wrigley Field men's room on a hot summer day, the smell is enough to make you want to choke a hooker.

6. It's a bathtub on the wall.

The guy who invented the bathtub should sue the guy who invented the trough.

If taking one object that was attached to the ground at one point and attaching it to a wall is considered a new invention, then let me just get my basketball hoop off the pole in my front yard and mount it to the house. Waa laa, stacks of cash. Patent. It worked for Peter VanTrough. (See also the coat racks, ceiling fans and flat screen TVs.)

7. Metal.
Sometimes, these things are metal. Why?

Ever peed on anything metal before? Ever been around metal when it's getting rained on? It's like lighting a string of firecrackers inside a bag of sugar. IT GOES EVERYWHERE.

I avoid metal troughs at all costs. I will wait 20 minutes for a stall just so I don't have to wash my jacket, shoes, hands, pants and soul.

8. Trough talk.

Some people, mostly drunk people, think it's okay to have a conversation with you while you're at the trough. No.

A conversation at a urinal is borderline acceptable. Maybe it's the formica divider that makes it okay? Trough talk is not okay. It's creepy and should be banned like phones in movie theaters. Nuns should roam men's rooms and rap guys right on the moose knuckles for talking while at a trough.

9. Height.

I'm 6'2 and these things are never at the right height for PARENTS WHO BRING THEIR CHILDREN TO THE RESTROOM! If we as adults have to pee in an adult trough, then there should be a kid trough. Why? Because Dad ultimately lifts up little junior so he can pee in the adult trough. Which 9 out of 10 times leads to the following phrases you never want to hear, anywhere, ever, ever, ever: "Look at all the wieners daddy.", "Daddy, why is his wiener all furry?" and "Daddy your pee-pee is weird."

Now that we all feel like pederasts or have the image of a penis in our heads, let's move on to number 10.

10. Foam party! Hey Yah!

Without fail, there's always one guy who looks like he's been drinking a bottle of Palmolive peeing in one of these things. What is that about? Wait, why did I look down and notice that? Oh great, now I've made a new friend. Wait. Oh dammit, that's not a friendly glare.

Keep your eye on the prize.