Martini Park

151 W Erie
Chicago, IL 60610
(312) 640-0577

As some bimbo wailed "So What?" on the karaoke stage, I saw a white 'roided out bodybuilder with t!ts bigger than Dolly Parton and a spray tan that made him darker than Wesley Snipes.

Is that cute?

My friends and I sat/stood next to a table of wh0res - complete with pimp/fat John. Seriously. The madam rolled up in her Bentley, double parked outside the bar, gave the girls the what for for not working with the client and getting out there and making money - and then she took off into the night...no doubt on her way to lead Pat Benetar down the path of marching an army of street walkers to rise up against the gold toothed.

Ok, the madam was sorta awesome. One more star for her.

But, for real for real - who *are* these people? Do they really live in Chicago? Is this some sort of experiment? What is this place? It's as though I paid $10 to drink expensive juice and witness the Viagra Triangle form an unholy union with River North sports bars. This is the place to be to see skunk hair, skanky women, fake b00bies and guys with big asses. It's true. I have never seen so many men with huge a$$es in one place. Does Chicago have an obesity problem or is J-Lo spiking Lake Michigan?

The band transitioned from "Rock Your Body" ("Heeey!!") to "Sweet Home Alabama" (not "Heeey!!") seamlessly. That's not a compliment. Somehow, Miami met Carbondale on the way to Las Vegas. When keeping it chill goes wrong, there you have Martini Park.

This place makes no sense.