Your RDA of Irony

Sex and the Suburbs

I know that many of you have wondered, “Eugene, if you were a serious writer, shouldn’t you be in New York (for the fame) or California (for the money)?” Of course, with the premiere of “Swingtown”, you now know that I remain in Chicago for the olympian adultery. Yes, Lake Michigan is just our idea of a hot tub.

The fact that all the houses in my suburb look alike only facilitates the orgy. Just walk into any house; at worse, you will actually be home. As I explained to a somewhat gullible Mr. Weinfarb (after finding me hiding in the laundry hamp), he was in the wrong house. Besides, after 4000 years of inbreeding, his wife could have mistaken me for him.

If you need further proof of Chicago’s shameless eroticism, the Cubs play in the nude. Those “uniforms” are only computer graphics to pacify the prudes on the FCC. And now you know the real reason that the Cubs won’t slide to base.

Unfortunately, all of our unabashed hedonism is being televised on CBS. Let’s face it: HBO would have more graphic sensuality in a production of “Anne of Green Gables.” This is a series about adultery, but it is the only time that you’ll ever see actress Molly Parker with her clothes on.

In any case, now you understand the allure of Chicago. As the sign says at O’Hare Airport, “Mayor Daley welcomes you to sex and pizza.”

  1. Peggles says:

    I’ll take the pizza (nature’s perfect food!)

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