Dear Readers,
as all 6 of you who have read my facebook status know, my blog has recently reached another milestone that cements its legacy as one of the best pieces of internet writing ever conceived. That's right if you google "The Sack Artist" my blog will be the first site on the first page. That's right, all of my wildest dreams have come true. All I had when I started this blog was a computer, a slightly disturbed train of thought and a dream. This blog has grown from its small time mom and pop roots and become a corporate force with 245 share holders, 4 regional offices and over 10 of the most qualified white males between the ages of 20-22 you will ever find as corporate board members. I know what all of you are thinking, "Jesus Sack I haven't seen a corporation rise this quickly since Anheuser Busch started brewing Budweiser (aka God's nectar) in 1876"...and you are right about that. Between Easter and the 4th of July this blog has undergone a transformation not seen in that time span since Christ died, resurrected, signed the declaration of independence and co-hosted a 4th of July BBQ with Ben Franklin some 3,000 years ago. And even I can't compete with Jesus' starting the world's largest religion and the world's greatest country all within 3 months.
The Sack Artist Sees America...Part Deux
The second part of my Travel Channel series features my journey from St. Louis to the 3rd largest city in the United States...Chicago, Illinois. Chicago is known to many as the city that is ruining the virtues of hardworking farmers in the Midwest with it's capitalist agenda and trendy nightclubs where bro haters wear navy blazers over their v-neck graphic t-shirts. However I dug deeper to discover the true essence of the city...and here is what I found.
Friday, July 10
1:04 P.M.-Leave St. Louis with Paul and Dan and cross into the state of Illinois. I pass through East St. Louis...otherwise known as the land of opportunity where legitimate businesses like Strip Clubs, casinos and prostitution rings cause the local economy to thrive even in the recent economic recession
3:20 P.M.-Stop at a Subway in McLean, Illinois and load up on a couple of foot long subs covered in jalapenos. As anyone who has lived in the Sigma Chi fraternity house in Beloit know...jalapenos don't do my digestive system any favors. Wait...is this entire blog just one giant way to ensure no chicks will ever get with me?
5:15 P.M.-I find the Cubs/Cardinals baseball game on the Chicago radio. When the game comes on my radio almost instantly shuts off. Is it possible that the Cubs have somewhere cursed my beloved car Eduardo? Is there some sort of goat hidden in my 1998 Ford Explorer?
5:20 P.M.-Turns out the radio shut off because the battery in my car is dead. After 11 years my car has suffered its first serious problem...outside of projectile vomit. Also I had just chugged a 24 oz. monster at this point...so it's safe to say my heart rate was a little elevated, which clearly didn't help anything.
5:25 P.M.-I call AAA and tell them my car is stuck in Joliet, Illinois...home of the legendary Michael Kovach. The tow truck driver asks me to cough twice if I'm being held up a gun point. He says to hide in the bushes and he will be there in 20 minutes with his 12 gauge
5:50 P.M.-The Tow truck driver arrives. He has a total of 2 teeth and no discerneable ability to speak coherently. I later find out that his name is Johnboy and his parents were sharecropping cousins in Mississippi. As I step into the tow truck I can't help but to think this seems a lot like a scene from Deliverance...and we're not even in the South.
6:35 P.M.-The driver drops my car off at a repair shop in Naperville, Illinois. From some reason I was expecting a train to run right up to the repair shop and take me directly into the city. I mean this is Chicago, one of the largest cities in the world, and it is supposed to have some of the best public transportation this country has to offer. Why isn't there a train running from the middle of a suburb 38 miles from dowtown Chicago directly into the city?
6:42 P.M.-Walk into a gas station and find out the Naperville train station is like 15 miles away? This has to be the largest city I have ever heard of. I call my good friend Matt Davis to see if he can give us a ride to the station...but he is busy with some hooker he just picked up on the South side...is it a bad thing that our quarterback loves black hookers more then Hugh Grant?
6:44 P.M.-Me, Dan and Paul are shit out of luck stuck in some BS suburb with no mode of transportation. Just when I am praying for a homeless guy to run up to us pulling a rickshaw, some random guy in the gas station offers us a ride. Turns out this gentleman's name is Phil, and he couldn't have been nicer. I love Phil like a father, and I am pretty sure he loves me, Paul and Dan like sons as well.
7:05 P.M.-We get to the Naperville train station and discover that the last train into the city doesn't leave until 8:33 P.M. and doesn't arrive into Union Station till 9:30...so we obviously have some time to kill.
7:10 P.M.-Paul, Dan and I stumble into some bar which is right next door to the Naperville train station. We immediately order 6 shots of tequila and a couple rounds of whiskey and cokes. The bartenders look at us like we're nuts, but we're not...we're just from St. Louis, where real men admit their alcoholism and don't try to hide it publicly or privately
7:45 P.M.-About 7 shots and many whiskey and cokes later Paul, Dan and I are wandering around the town looking for a liquor store to buy a bottle for the train ride into the city. Real men cannot stop drinking for an entire 1 hour long train ride. I mean did Charles Barkley stop drinking after he got that DUI and offered to blow the cop to get out of it? God I hope not
8:06 P.M.-Walking the streets we are unable to find the liquor store when some Cubs fan makes a wise crack towards me. I remind him that Theodore Roosevelt was the president the last time the Cubs won the world series, which upsets him a great deal. Don't worry...he's not mad at me, he's mad at his dad.
8:15 P.M.-Still unable to find a liquor store we stumble back into the bar and take down 2 or 3 more shots of tequila. It's at that point when Paul turns to me and asks if we should get some road beers...I reply with "Hell yeah we should get some road beers." To make a long story short we boarded the train with an 18 pack of Bud Light bottles
8:33-10:15 P.M.-Ride around on various trains chugging beers like the bro I am.
10:15-10:30 P.M.-Get off the train and walk around Wrigleyville in search of my friend Jeff's apartment. I stop in a local Subway to use the facilities, and as I am leaving the Arab guy behind the counter asks if I am going to buy anything. I tell him I am not and he says "well the bathroom is for customers only." Too bad the ship sailed on that one buddy...unless you call Stephen Hawking and get him to take you back in time and prevent me from pissing I guess you are shit out of luck. Besides this is America...and that means every man has the right to piss in any open drain, free of charge or stipulation.
10:37 P.M.-I finally arrive at Jeff and his girlfriend Emily's apartment. Their apartment is packed with people hanging out, some I know, some I don't. Instead of acknowledging any one's existence I instead reach for the Canadian Reserve Whiskey as soon as I walk into the door. No Coke? No problem, you can drink this stuff straight, it's the finest Whiskey the Yukon Territory has to offer...for only $8 (Canadian) a bottle.
10:45 P.M.-After 8 straight minutes of chugging whiskey I finally decide it would be alright to acknowledge the other people in the apartment (besides Jeff who I obviously embraced when I walked in). Included in the group where Emily, Ellen (apparently I've been going to school with her for 3 years...who knew?) and her friend Stephen, and of course my pal and frequent blog mentionee Nicole Odom and several of her friends...I would mention her friends' names but I was pretty drunk and still can't remember them. This is not odd for me, when I was in kindergarten I told my teacher I couldn't spell my name so I could avoid writing it down. Could I spell my name? Of course I could, I just couldn't remember what it was. I actually thought it was "get me a fresh beer" for a couple of months because that is all my father said to me during that time span. So remembering names has clearly been a recurring problem for me.
11:38 P.M.-I finish the 5th of whiskey and decide it's time to move out into the real world...otherwise known as the Chicago bar scene, where $9 beers and $12 mixed drinks fill your belly and destroy brain cells at a slightly slower rate then their $3 counterparts in St. Louis.
Saturday, July 11
12:04 A.M.-I walk into some bar on the North side of Chicago with the crew. This place is the size of a large to medium sandbox and I am pretty sure it has Hawaiian shit all over the wall. I wish I had worn Russell Brand's Tommy Bahama shirt from Forgetting Sarah Marshall then I would have fit in real well with this clientel
12:06 A.M.-I realize it is now technically Odom's birthday and somehow am the first person to offer her a celebratory drink, despite the fact she is with at least 20 girls who have known her way longer then I have. I know buying birthday shots for chicks is not a very bro move, and it is not something that a person with my lack of consideration for other people usually does...but I am pretty drunk at this point, and if I buy Odom a shot of tequila that gives me a good enough excuse to get my own and not look completely like a John Daily Esq alcoholic
12:37 A.M.-I make best friends with the Asian lady sitting next to me at the bar...or maybe she is Mexican? or maybe Australian? I'm not sure what ethnicity she is, not because of my incredibly high level of intoxication at this point, but instead due to my level of acceptances for all races which prevents me from noticing fairly obvious human characteristics like skin color. Anyways, this lady is at least 55 and way into me...jackpot.
1:02 A.M.-I buy Odom a strong island (so I am told) just so I can chug the rest of my 7 and 7 and start drinking one of those sweet 5 alcohol concoctions myself. I now have more different kinds of liquor in my system then Ulysses S. Grant did the day he got the South to surrender in the Civil War...and who says drunk people accomplish nothing?
1:42 A.M.-The bar is closing and I am wrapping up with my conversation with the old broad next to me, and possibly sealing up an invite to her apartment for a night cap, when she tells me that she is married. Way to lead me on and crush a young man's heart. (did I get this lady's name? No, but I wouldn't have remembered it anyways so who cares)
1:58 A.M.-We get back to Jeff's apartment and I reach for an ice cold beer. Jeff and I start having an intense conversation centering on Greg Oden's knees and his real age (at least 38), while Emily starts talking in a Southern accent. Like my tow truck ride earlier in the day, Emily's accent makes me feel like I have again been tricked into a replicating a scene from Deliverance
9:37 A.M.-I wake up naked on Jeff's floor sweating my ass off and my blood alcohol level is still way above a .2. Where the hell did all my clothes go? How many times in my life can I wake up naked in a strange apartment without making some sort of life style change? Have I really become Jay Leonard (Beloit equivalent-Sam Bauman)?
1:15 P.M.-I meet Paul, Dan and Charlie at a Wrigleyville bar 2 hours before the Cardinals/Cubs game we are planning on attending. My drunken excitement from earlier in the morning has quickly changed to some sort of hungover hell that is torturing every part of my body. Can I really start drinking right now? Hell yeah I am a bro...and bros love pregaming (http://www.broslikethissite.com/2009/06/35-pregaming.html), besides the Cardinals need me to at least have a semi-buzz.
3:05 P.M.-After about 12 Bud Lights and 2 shots of tequila I am feeling good again as I walk into Wrigley Field
3:23 P.M.-Charlie slips me a flask of Captain Morgan as we begin to spike the Cokes we just bought. How does security not know we brought hard liquor into the game? Yeah 4 college kids from St. Louis show up to an afternoon game at Wrigley Field barely being able to stand and reeking of alcohol and buy a round of Cokes...that's real logical
3:24 P.M.-I mix myself up a delicious beverage and proceed to knock the cup over, spilling it all over the guy in front of me. This guy was wearing a Tour De France shirt, a live strong bracelet, a pair of Nike sunglasses and a bicycle helmet. I am pretty sure he thought he actually was Lance Armstrong because after I dumped my rum and Coke all over him he turned to me and said "Come on man I only have 1 testicle...don't you think I've been through enough?"
6:31 P.M.-We leave the game and go back into the same bar we were drinking at before...only now the bar is handing out free hot dogs. I eat 42 hot dogs in 5 minutes before vomiting everywhere...that's right I am the Joey Chestnut of eating hot dogs.
6:45 P.M.-We are still drinking in this bar when some 41 year old chick decides it would be cool to hit on me...I guess fairly unattractive cougars just love me in Chicago. After about 1o minutes of this chick trying to put her tits directly in my face I am a little freaked out and pass her off to my good friend Kyle Kitsch who has just walked in. Is Kyle interested? Of course he is, he is much more of a bro then I am and bros love cougars (http://www.broslikethissite.com/2009/06/39-cougars.html)
9:03 P.M.-We are all now back in Jeff's apartment drinking when Charlie decides he has to leave. Instead of saying goodbye to everyone and walking out of the apartment like a normal person, he decides it would be better to run away like a frightened 15 year old girl who was just propositioned by Mark Chmura.
10:14 P.M.-We arrive at Noah Reinisch's house for a sweet kegger. Many of my friends from Beloit including Noah, Kalman Huettel and the legendary Sven Lyndon are in attendance. This party has the possibility to be a pretty sweet little fiesta when Ryan Ream walks in about an hour later. Ream was my big brother in the fraternity house, but he is also a Mexican immigrant to the United States who was recently deported. I obviously have a great deal of loyalty to the man, but it is nothing compared to my loyalty to the great United States of America, so I do what any responsible American citizen would do...call the INS and report him.
Sunday, July 12
12:07 A.M.-The INS raids Noah's house. Fortunately I am able to escape carrying both the keg and Sven Lyndon on my back
1:09 A.M.-I have run at least 5 miles while carrying Sven and chugging at least 2/3rds of the keg. We stop at a parking garage and start a sweet new drinking game that is taking over college campuses...you can read about it at http://theubersapien.blogspot.com/
12:13 P.M.-I wake up and board the Brown Line train to get downtown and visit my friend Kyle Kitsch and the cougar at his sweet bachelor pad. Some guy in a Frank Thomas jersey boards the train and starts walking down the aisles preaching about Jesus Christ. Could he find a bigger group of sinners then the people riding Chicago public transportation on a Sunday afternoon? Every single person is hungover from the night before, and at least 3/4ths contracted some sort of STD from their unprotected sexual escapades the night before.
1:02 P.M.-I enter Kyle's apartment building when the security officer tells me she needs to perform a full cavity search on me before she will let me upstairs. Man these Chicago apartments have pretty strict security, but I don't argue...this is the most action I've gotten in a long time
1:24 P.M.-I finally make it up to Kyle's apartment and pass out because my body cannot function in any way, shape or form at this point.
Monday, July 13
8:15 A.M.-Paul and I get off the train we have just taken to Naperville to pick up Eduardo. Matt Davis has agreed to pick us up and give us a ride to the repair shop. The entire ride I cannot tell if Matt is asleep or not. He tells me he can't function because 8:30 A.M. is just too early for any human being to accomplish anything. Will he ever have a real job or a successful career? You be the judge
8:38 A.M.-Matt drops me off and I go in to pay. It turns out Eduardo needed a new alternator and battery, which somehow adds up to $15,000 in labor charges in Chicago. It might cost $200 in St. Louis...congrats Chicago, I have now dumped all my money into your ridiculously expensive society.
Text Updates and Big Ups
My accumulated text score since the last post (July 9) is +461 I think (329-inbox, 284-sent, 90 from females...3 unresponded to, once again all from the same person who is laughing at his/her crippling effect on my score)...but it is inexact because of the large sample size which is hard to handle despite my well earned B+ in Intro to Statistics my sophomore year.
My Big Ups have to go to every person who hung out with me in Chicago including (but not limited to) Paul, Dan, Charlie, Jeff, Emily, Ellen Kurney, Steve, Odom, her friends, Noah, Kal, Sven, Ream, Kyle Kitsch, Clare Brady and of course...the 2 cougars. I will also throw out an advanced big ups to Joey Scherer (big guy is finally a man) and Richboy Krajewski for giving me some great blogging material you will hopefully read about next post. Finally I have two very special big ups to extend. The first goes to my friend Corey Kossman. Tonight during a very intense game of beach volleyball my phone managed to fall out of the pockets of my LeBron James brand nike shorts. Just as I thought all hope was lost, Corey was able to corral my phone buried under 20 feet of sand directly under the net. The second one goes to Lisa McClure who became the first person to email/facebook me any possible topics for the blog in the future. Congrats Lisa, you have boldly gone where no one else has and have gotten a well earned mention (your 1st?) in the big ups section.
Finally I would to like to add a recruiting pitch for Sack Artists International. As I mentioned in the opening, of our 10 corporate employees all are white males between the ages of 20 and 22 (or 25...I am really not sure how old Adam Puls is). I would love to add some diversity to the corporation, so if you are a minority, female or person not between the ages of 20 and 22 feel free to apply...and don't think I gave you the job simply because of the pressure the government is putting on me to meet my quotas.
In Hoc,
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack off All Trades"
