Hawkeytown (I just died a little.)

Congrats Hawks, Chicago has a championship. My good friend Jim and I were actually eating on Clark St. around 8 p.m. and politely scooted out of there before pandemonium erupted, toting my leftovers of Mu Shu wraps. I haven't been a hockey fan all season, it's not that I don't like hockey but I just have a hard time getting excited about it.  I even want to a game and yes, I sang "Chelsea Dagger."  Because nothing, nothing says Go Blackhawks! like a band from Glasgow, Scotland.

This is my old neighborhood after the win Wednesday night and, while I'm extremely happy I was no longer there, this is pretty cool.

Today is the parade, which I am also following from the comfort of my cubicle a couple blocks away.  I've already been outside in the "gorgeous" 86 degree day full of humidity that only the Chicago River can muster.  About 400,000 people are crowded into a small number of city blocks.  Wa wa we wa!  I still wonder how the band wagon faithful all got down here but I've drawn some conclusions.  One of my co-workers angrily got on the Metra today, packed next to other passengers taking swings out of a Captain Morgan bottle...at 7:40 a.m.  Class.  The other toothless avengers no doubt took the South Shore Line. (Hello, Michigan City, Indiana!)  Other idiots probably drove in, feverishly bitched about "25 DOLLARS FOR THE FIRST 30 MINUTES," then undoubtedly sold their first born for a parking spot on LaSalle.  Don't believe me?  I saw it.  Like I said, safety from my cubicle.

(Photo below stolen from a girl on my old team!)

I still prefer a sea of red at a Cardinals game ;)  Have to stay, this is still pretty surreal.  Oh, and Patrick Kane still apparently has the mullet.  He's still a gross douche, maybe Clearasil will sign him a deal until he grows out of puberty.