This morning, the fam and I went down to Chicago to meet up with Chyi and Jonas who were arriving there after two weeks in Costa Rica. This left them with about six hours to visit with us before hopping another plane home to Paris. We went to Phoenix for dimsum and then wandered around Chinatown for a few hours before sending them on their merry way.
Upon returning home to Milwaukee, Jay, Tyan and I were passed on east North Avenue right by what my friend John Price used to call "the 24 hour curve". It's a series of curves that go around a large hill right before you hit Humboldt Avenue, and seemingly every day, the sign in the middle of one of the islands is knocked down because some drunk or cracked out freak plows into it like a sailor in a whorehouse. Anyway, back to the scenario: random Illinois guy in a Chevy passes us on the right, then passes another car on the left (cutting him off) right before having to make a sharp left turn around the 24 hour curve. His car slides and hits the curb and his right front tire explodes off the axle and careens down the hill. Needless to say his car hopped up onto the curb and came to an immediate halt.
House of Pain hops out of the car and to avoid embarassment, lookes at his car, then starts down the hill to fetch his tire. I guess everyone thinks that they are Emersons Fitipaldi. Luckily nobody was injured, except the poor Chevy.
