Raging queens, mumblers, dumbasses, old white people and fat guys

1. There are no “arrghs” in The Pirate Queen.

The Broadway bound popera has plenty of queenie moments (including gay bar garb for the seamen, a shirtless Irishman with a spray on tan, and fabulous Elizabethan garb); overwrought, over sung, over amped music made for American Idol contestants, but little swash in the buckling.

I mean, the pirates don’t make pirate noises. And they seem to be the heroes. Weren’t pirates really just gang bangers with boats?

2. If Bob Dylan is such a great poet why is it so hard to understand him when he sings? Maybe he has that syndrome where it’s tough for him to interact with people. His therapist makes him tour to help overcome his shyness.

3. If you're gonna make fun of someone for being a dumbass, don't be such a dumbass yourself. Case in point: PJ O'Rourke.

During a recent talk he gave a theory on why Illinois politics are so corrupt: it tends to happen in states with one large city surrounded by farmland. This doesn't take into account the cesspool known as Florida or the Wonderbread state of Minnesota.

O'Rourke also claimed 90 percent of all good things in America are because of business. Yeah, the damn government and those pesky child labor laws.

4. Nothing is funnier than watching white people in their 50s try to get down to a 74 year old black guy rapping. It happened at a Bo Diddley concert. Diddley also had a stripper come on stage just to carry off his guitar.


5. A bearded fat man goes to a Notre Dame football game wearing a gold hardhat with Jesus on the top, am Irish jersey, and actual football pants. He has a beer bottle in one hand, a foam covered can in the other and is on the cell phone. Proving there is a match for anyone, he also has a wedding ring. Maybe the wife was calling, grateful he was dressed at all, and decided not to go shirtless with the blue and gold body paint.

Booty (bus) shaking and tailgating

Ahh, the smoky smells of football season (from the RV parking lot, at least): diesel fuel, propane, charcoal, cigarettes, cigars, pot, charcoal, spilt beer barbecue sauce, beef, chicken, and, apparently, tuna.

On a beautiful early fall afternoon along Chicago’s postcard lakefront that’s what your nose could savor from walking between bean bag games, buses and campers, some of which had been there from 6 a.m. for a 7 p.m. game.

The best T-shirt belonged to a big bearish lug named Sean (Fight Me I’m Irish), which was a more appropriate thing to wear on a warm day than the bear skins on some older dudes which made them look like gay Flintstones.

Such get-ups are made-for-TV garb, the donners hoping to catch the eye of local broadcast personalities such as Amy Jacobson, who is a lot taller in person that most News at 10 types, and who likes her bottled water warm (I offered cold, but she insisted).

Giving new meaning to the term tailgating, there were at least a couple strippers working the grounds, there with the red and black painted Booty Bus.

Two of ‘em showed up by the grills and Coleman coolers from which I was dining and drinking, one in a very 1970s Frederick's of Hollywood style outfit revealing her belly, the other in a short plaid school girl skirt with thong underwear and Rocky Horror type platform heeled boots.

Nothing says game-time like two exotic dancers simulating lesbian sex while drunks whip out their small digicams and even smaller flip phones.

Bare down Chicago bears indeed.

Apparently the entrepreneurs were drumming up business for their bus. Allegedly a show on board would cost you $60, which guaranteed a happy ending - and you know how sports fans love happy endings.

As for the Bears, fans hope the game wasn’t a premature climax to a season only four games old.

The Booty Bus just hopes it stays warm at least until November.

All I have to say is it’s only a matter of time before Eye Team reporter Chuck Ghoude does an undercover report.