I don’t really care much either way about football, but in honor of the Chicago Bears opening game last night, I feel it is my duty to take a virtual dump all over one of the least thoughtful renovations of a historic landmark ever.
Solider Field was officially opened in 1924 and has been home to many historic events. In 2002 the city of Chicago and some other douchebags decided it was time to renovate the stadium but because the stadium was listed on the National Register of Historic Places, they could not monkey around with the existing structure too much. The solution? Drop a fucking ugly piece of shit INSIDE and ON TOP OF the existing Soldier Field. This has got to be the laziest, most thoughtless work of architecture that has ever made it from blueprints to construction. How the fuck did the city let this happen?
Guess what the first thing to happen was after these “improvements” were completed? It was swiftly and wisely removed from the National Register of Historic Places.
The dick heads responsible for this brilliant design, Benjamin T. Wood and Carlos E. Zapata, should be in architecture jail right next to Frank Gehry.
Sorry, this one was not very fun or funny, I’m too lazy to be creative. Blogging sucks.
If I ever catch my child participating in anything that remotely resembles parkour or “free running” I am going straight to the nearest antique tool dealer, buying the largest, rustiest pre-civil war saw they own, driving back home and cutting his feet off. I’m serious, if I so much as see that kid walking on a curb or staring at a wall longingly, he can kiss those tootsies goodbye. Sure, he will complain about how “mean” I am blah blah blah, but what kid doesn’t bitch and moan about their parents? He will thank me later when he’s watching all those douchebags jumping around and falling on their faces, safely from the comfort of his wheelchair. He will look down at his gnarled stumps and think “Thank the good Lord above that I’m not wasting my time on this shit.” He will roll off into the setting sun to the sound of zitty teen faces slamming against the pavement and whisper “Thank you dad.”
Thanks to Jonathan for tipping me off to this Parkour scene from The Office!
If you are anything like me, these parkour accidents will give you a boner.
Sure, people look at me and say, “Steve, you are obviously the most awesome and cool guy in the IT dept, we all know this. But Steve, are you also fun? Do you cut loose on the weekends and have your gamer buddies over for some ice-cold Mountain Dews and a 5 hour Monty Python marathon on VHS?”
Well sir, might I direct your attention south about 18 inches? Yeah that’s right dummy, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you, that really IS Darth Vader on my tie!!! I know, right? I just blew your mind didn’t I? No seriously, I swear it’s a real neck tie. Go ahead, touch it.
What’s that? Where did I get this hilariously rebellious accessory? No no no, I think not young Skywalker, not ready are you. Wacky tie culture is not something you just jump into blindly.
That’s right corporate world, you will never stifle my joyous nature!
If you are a man* there are very few occasions when a puka shell necklace is allowed on your body. They are…
1) You bought a used time machine on Ebay but the knob is stuck on 1972. It also has a glitch that changes your sex and turns your clothes into a bikini while traveling through time.
2) You are Tatum O’Neal or Jackie Earle Haley and you are starring in “The Bad News Bears.”
3) You are a corpse and your friends thought it would be hilarious to wreck your funeral by strapping some puka shells around your bloated neck.
We get it, you’re awesome, you can eat a giant cheeseburger in front of a crowd of none. You have certainly earned the right to have your Polaroid up on the wall of sadness, next to the rest of the fat underachievers. What’s wrong, mommy and daddy didn’t buy you that BMX bike you always wanted? Were you stuck riding that girlie, yellow Schwinn Stingray to school while the rest of your friends had kickass, diamond frame dirt bikes? Did you try to camouflage your gay bike to look more BMX with a new seat, pads and a racing number? Did you NEVER get that BMX bike even though your parents could have totally afforded it because your dad was an international banker and your mom worked part-time in a gourmet cooking store and you lived in a nice middle-class home in a nice community? Are you now almost 40 years old but you toy with the idea of buying a diamond frame BMX bike just so you can ride it to your dad’s condo in Miami where you will pedal in circles on the sidewalk screaming “How you like me now old man? Look at your little BMXer now Daddy!”
Yeah, I know, why can’t I just enjoy wacky art cars like everyone else? Shut up hippie, don’t you have some armpits to not wash?
While you are excitedly posing for a photo with these cluster fucks, I shoot hate lasers out of my eyes at you. You can’t feel it, but from my point-of-view, it’s pretty devastating. I can’t decide who I hate more, you for liking these dumb cars, or the hippie turd who spent the last 5 years gluing doll heads and action figures to his mom’s car when he could have used that time showering. It’s such a sad cry for attention, even more so than blogging.
The thing is, there is no art involved in the creation of an art car. Sticking dirty toys to something is not art. These lazy hippies can’t even come up with an idea more original than doll heads and Happy Meal toys. Does anyone like hippies? I don’t even think hippies like hippies.
I’m tired. This post sucked. It sucked, but not as much as art cars, you hippie.
