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Interesting side fact: The area of “Wrigleyville” doesn't exist. To the City of Chicago , it's simply “Lakeview.” It's important to know that, because when participating in illegal or idiotic activity , since the neighborhood doesn't exist, it's like nothing happened. Remember that. |
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From their statement, we can deduce two things: One, that somewhere in the non-free world, there's a better sports bar – Hey! I don't want to go to Wrigleyville. My buddy was telling me about this great place in North Korea – and two, that I could catch the England-India cricket final on a Sunday afternoon, or have a drink after work and see the highlights in the world of dressage. There's nothing finer than watching an evening spent with a cold one, witnessing highly trained riders guide their steeds through a complex series of maneuvers. So upon seeing this modern wonderland, I wanted to give it the benefit of the journalistic doubt. I was going to give this Mecca for the sporting set a fighting chance, but my path was blocked by no less than seven (7!) police cars. Apparently there had been a fight of some sort involving at least three, but possibly all, items on the following list:
Based on hazy past recollections and the fact that I couldn't get within 30 feet of the entrance due to the heavy police presence, I knew that was all the information I needed on Hi-Tops right there. |
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It's tough to find a good 40 these days. You're usually stuck searching liquor and convenient stores, uttering things like “Boy, I have enough Cristal to host a hip-hop record launch,” or “I'd love to have a nip of 18-year Macallan in the study this evening,” but the fact remains that you still can't find a damn 40 of Old English malt liquor. All you wanted was to mourn the passing of your homies and drink out of a bag, but 40s have become a tricky species that can be hard to locate. That's where this highly convenient 7-11 steps up to the plate – like your friend who lets your borrow his car to get out of the state, avoiding the arrest warrant you most likely deserve – and gives the post-game rabble-rouser alcoholic hydration while nicely hiding it from the police across the street outside Hi-Tops in a magical concealing device called a paper bag.
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