The insufferably named Humboldt Park alligator is leaning into its fictional persona of a renegade bad boy and ruining the money grabbing efforts by virtually every artist and business who are printing it’s likeness on a piece of shit Gildan shirt and then selling them to men and women who regularly drink Michelob Ultra and watch the Big Bang Theory.
After evading the alligator expert, who appeared to just be a duster huffing bastard child of a cousin of one of the guys from Duck Dynasty, the alligator was spotted daunting a Patagonia vest and a pair of All Bird sneakers groping women at a bar where other brainless reptiles sit around waiting to die. Bottled Blonde appears to be the permanent home for perverse reptile who once inexplicably inspired a city.
The moronic artists peddling the $30 shirts on Etsy and in varying Facebook community pages have converted the nipple chaffing t-shirts into characterless Chicago flags to hang in houses where the owners have no particular interest or personality.
The aforementioned alligator expert’s wife has left him and the city has returned to fantasizing about the prospect of an early autumn.