I’m banned for life from Soldier Field for a drunk and naked streaking incident witnessed by Margaret Cho, Mayor Daley, Megan Mullalley, George Takei, and my horrified mother watching on television.  

Cho said something about “balls whizzing past my face” as I was tackled, handcuffed, and dragged off.   Squee! Margaret Cho joked about my balls! I’ll never wash them again!  

The rest of the story’s pretty funny: Since I was booked in a garbage bag I had to do the perp walk from South Michigan to Rogers Park in a paper suicide dress the next morning, and like every 50 feet someone asked me if I was okay and what happened. Kinda humbling and humiliating.   

If you’ve been in county and/or on suicide precautions before you get kind of a morbid and cheerful sense of humor about wearing the “paper yellow sun dress.”   I had the deputies rolling in the hallway when I called it that.  

I raised some eyebrows climbing my building in my paper yellow sun dress, owing to the fact I had lost my keys in the process and needed to get in through a window. I have no idea what the neighbors made of me after that.

Half of them already hated me for the loud music and sex parties. I think I got a few cocked heads and something along the lines of “what is that cracked out idiot doing now?”  

The next night the Chicago Spirit Brigade recognized me at a bar, gave me a big round of cheers jeers and applause, bought me drinks and gave me a team pin. Hey, this is the asshole that ran naked through our formation!   Best night ever. Charges dropped. Literally laughed out of court and told “You’re lucky the judge is a Bears fan!”

Why would I do this?

Because the Victimized Generation was put in charge of the ceremonies and they had a huge presentation with the aids quilt, some queen sobbing that he was going to suicide because someone called him UGLY (gasp) and it greatly offended me how fucking contrived it came across because I’ve actually experienced that. Then the lights went dim and the Jumbotrons all said “VICTIMIZATION.”

I told Wayne, “fuck that I ain’t no god damn victim, hold my beer. I’m putting the fun back in funeral.”

I waited until the “wave” hit the north end of the field and security’s attention followed it. 

Then I dropped down on the field from the south side and was completely unnoticed until I was halfway across.      

“a pear shaped streaker” well, at least I have a pear.