about three bad brothers you know so well. they started to change cub history, im talking the professor, mark prior and my man kerry.
one lonely cub fan i be. all by myself without nobody. california sun beating down on my baseball hat. the race is getting hot, my old style beer’s getting flat…
woke up this morning with a pretty girl asking if i could turn off the howard stern on the radio.
her eyes were closed and didnt see the smile on my face.
it was a permagrin.
ear to ear.
i was beaming.
yes, she and i had superstar porno love the night before. yes, i had bowled and liquored myself up pretty good. yes, i had full control of my mightysword. theres nothing like the feeling a man gets every blue moon when he realizes that he can floor it with no repercussions.
like speeding in the pitch black darkness of an empty desert highway with the clash’s know your rights blasting through the t-tops without any worry that the man isnt gonna flick on his party lights and join the parade.
wham wham wham
fuck the neighbors. fuck the lack of music or candles. fuck the bedsprings fuck the blinds getting kicked fuck the blankets getting twisted fuck gravity fuck the headboard getting destroyed fuck that this isnt sex saturday.
two ways to have girls fall in love with you
or do what i did last night.
this morning i wasnt smiling cuz of all that. that was luck. that had very little to do with me.
this morning i was smiling cuz i remembered that the cubs are going to win the world series this year, and after i hit the snooze button i drifted off knowing that somewhere in heaven harry caray was smiling too.
bring on the bosox