Secrets of the City

“a few hundred of my friends . . .“

C’mon, bob, I’m picturing you, post-ban, as this prim, smug-smiling-if-at-all, Calvinistic, teetotaling, I-don’t-care-if-they’re-kids-make-them-swim-quietly-when-I’m-near kind of guy who runs around and shames people who look too goshdanged happy with their risky behaviours, and, frankly, the idea of “a few hundred” of your friends in one place scares me. I figure once the first thirty had passed me and used up all of the easy “you need to change yourself THIS WAY because it would make ME happier” subjects, the rest would be left with telling me to breath quieter or less frequently, or maybe sweat with more verve and flair, or possibly just a general encouraging of me to strongly consider what I could do to make them happier and more fulfilled people, and so I just can’t get myself excited about showing up for that. I’m sure I’d be a more virtuous person at the end, but only in the kind of way that American cheese is a more virtuous cheese than others.

(Jes’ kiddin’ . . .)

Ah! Stuff in my hood!

But why so early? The younguns like me will most likely be asleep and hungover on a saturday morn.

Whoa, bobby, that’s some bitter sense of humor you got going on there. That’s quite an interesting discription of me:

prim not so much.
smug-smiling-if-at-all Okay, I am smug, and smiling.
Calvinistic I’m more Hobbsesque
teetotaling Er, bobby, I’m walking in Team 331 Club!!
I-don’t-care-if-they’re-kids-make-them-swim-quietly-when-I’m-near kind of guy What the…?
who runs around no, walks — re-read post, please.
and shames people who look too goshdanged happy with their risky behaviours Now you sound like The Rat, which should shame you.

The event is to raise money to send kids with asthma to summer camps, booby. You don’t have to participate, but chill, okay?

This Saturday, in the park?
I thought it was the Fourth of July.

Will there be a man selling ice cream?

I’ve been waiting such a long time!

yes…and I believe that he may be singing songs in Italian.

“Whoa, bobby, that’s some bitter sense of humor you got going on there.“

Naw, didn’t ya see the ?

(I was FOR the ban, btw.)

You should be careful, Bobby. It’s not widely known, but Justpbob’s American Lung Association organization isn’t only a political pressure group – they have well-documented links to the militant splinter group Pulmonary Action. If he says the word, they might just liberate your lungs straight out of your chest and set them free in the woods.

Will you have to wear The Asthma Awareness Ribbon?

Damn you teucer! We will burn your house down for exposing our secret!

Oh wait, it might smoke and irritate the lungs…

You evil mastermind! You’ve thought of everything!

Rat: wear ‘em if you got ‘em.

Bobby: Sorry. I forget sometimes what a humorless ass I am.

Chicago fans: Actually, I wasn’t thinking of that song at all when I wrote the heading. I was, however, thinking of a musical.

If anything happens to me, three major media organizations will each receive a videotape featuring the ALA Board of Directors worshiping at the base of a gigantic golden lung.

Teucer’s on a roll today.

’salright, every day’s the fourth of July.

Sure seems like St. Paul is getting jacked up for a big weekend. Kids are running all around the capital today, the cathedral is having its centennial bash, Grand Old Day… is gunning to get rained out again — but even if not, tens of thousands of people will descend on the street to ask:

* Who the hell is playing on that stage?
* What is the point of all this?
* When can we go home?
* Where the hell am I supposed to park?
* Why did I come here?
* How can this thing be so popular?

I’ll have you know Mrs. Lungs created the Shrine of the Golden Lung. She has an art background, you know…

“they have well-documented links to the militant splinter group Pulmonary Action.“

Yep, learned the hard way, and started posting only under this pseudonym last year, when those whacko People for the Ethical Treatment of Alveoli got wind (get it? – “wind”?) of my nico-con leanings. Ever try to smoke a cig with a ten-penny framing nail spiked through the middle?

“Sure seems like St. Paul is getting jacked up for a big weekend.“

No shite. In DT today, you can’t swing a dead bloody ferret without smackin some matronly earthmotherish volunteer organizer with a clipboard and frizzy hair frantically indicating approved parking places to school buses full of screaming munchkins who are all trying to figure out how to get directly to the mini-donut trailer without having to stop and watch some effin’ mime act out The Father of Waters legend in an urban-punk-granola-diorama sort of way.

I wish the Vulcans were here. That’d scare the pants off of this we-are-the-world crowd.

yes…and I believe that he may be singing songs in Italian.

I just might, grote! In my own honest, country-folk voice.

yes…and I believe that he may be singing songs in Italian.

I just might, grote! In my own honest, country-folk voice.

“Ever try to smoke a cig with a ten-penny framing nail spiked through the middle?”

Ah, the infamous ‘inverted tracheotomy’. That’s why I gave up my 20-a-day smoking habit, you know – out of fear of punitive attacks. And you know what they’ll put as the cause of death? Lung cancer.

Since the small and weak tobacco lobby was so easily extirpated by powerful and well-funded organizations like Bob’s… well, there was no one left who was willing to act on behalf of and in the interests of the humble smoker.

A special shout-out to the 331 Club’s Terri Rock, Jerret Oulman (and Jerret’s mom!) who walked with Mrs. Lungs and I on Saturday for our fundraiser. Those who stayed home afraid of rain missed a perfect morning out and about for a good cause.