-Caveat Lector- More!!! Was THIS suppressed???? Or is it parody??? Hmmm... Wrigley Field Surrounded by UN Forces! Reported July 5, 1998 Chicago, Illinois USA Wrigley Field - Home of America's Team, the Chicago Cubs. I just moved to Chicago, Illinois from East Dubuque, Illinois to be closer to my favorite place in the world, Wrigley Field. I managed to find an apartment just two blocks away, so I'm able to watch the Chicago Cubs as much as I want to. Over the 4th of July weekend, some friends came to visit from out of town. We decided to catch a Cubs game on Saturday. It was a beautiful day out, so we headed to the bars early in the morning to get the day started off right. I like to follow a balanced diet and so the first drinks we ordered were bloody marys with some veggies in them. Then I started in on the vodka sours. After a couple hours of social drinking, we headed across the street to the stadium to try to scalp some tickets for the outfield bleachers. I wore my shades and let my cigarette dangle casually over my bottom lip. I walked to the first scalper we saw and told him that we needed some tickets. He said that it was going to cost us $20 each. I told him that I had $15 for each of them. He could tell right away that I was all about business. He gave me the tickets for my price without even trying to counter offer. We got real ripped at Wrigley Stadium as we watched the Chicago Cubs beat the Pittsburgh Pirates. They have these frozen type drinks there made with everyone's favorite hard liquors. I liked the vodka lemonades the best, but they also had margaritas and daiquiris. Those cold drinks sure were refreshing while we sat in the warm sun. After the game was over I asked one of my buddies if the Cubs had won and then we headed over to Murph's Bleachers for some post game beers. I really enjoyed the cold, refreshing drinks while we sat underneath the warm sun in the bleachers. After a few beers at Murph's, we realized that it was getting a little late. We decided we better hit some more different bars since they were only open until 4AM. One of the places we went to had a couple of bowling lanes in it and they had these high school kids working as "pin monkeys". When the ball would knock down the pins, they would set them up again for you. It was pretty damn fun to try to hit those little guys with your bowling ball while they were working. The vodka sours tasted very nice throughout the rest of the night. I was getting a little hungry so I left the bar without telling my buds and headed to the closest convenience store. I purchased a bag of chips and started back to the bar eating the chips as I walked. Somehow I must have gotten lost, because the buildings started to look unfamiliar. I spotted several guys hanging out on a corner and so I approached them and asked them for directions. They told me that I looked like I was in the wrong area. When I asked why, they told me that I was in a "pink zone" and I didn't look like I belonged there. They laughed when I asked what a pink zone was. Their accents were unusual and they sounded a little like those Euro-type boys. They proceeded to tell me that there were other districts like that one in Dallas, Minneapolis, and even Columbus. After they spilled their guts, I began to survey the scene. I noticed that rainbow colored flags hung above the doors to the bars in the zone. The men standing in line waiting to get into the bars seemed to be wearing similar uniforms which consisted of tight jeans and white, tank-top shirts. They all looked like they were in their twenties and in excellent physical condition. There didn't seem to be any women present. Some of them were standing very closely together in pairs as if they were worried that someone would overhear their conversations. At that moment, a black Hum-Vee with tinted windows drove by at a high rate of speed and then the situation clearly came into focus for me. It was as if a fog of lies had just been lifted from my brain. I remembered the conversation I had with a guy at a bar a few nights before. He told me how the UN had troops in America and controlled a lot of our national parks. They were planning to use them as staging areas for the invasion of America. The truth hit me like an elevated train -- the region that I had casually wandered into was UN occupied! I immediately walked towards the nearest bar. I moved towards the line waiting to get in and then snuck behind the guys taking cards at the door. I jumped up and ripped down the flag above the door and sprinted down the closest alley. When I looked over my shoulder I saw that three guys were in close pursuit. They must have been Foreign Legion/Commando types, because they weighed at least 300 pounds and they were still able to run extremely fast (they even kept up with me). I noticed that they were yelling commands into elaborate, mobile communications equipment. They must have been radioing back to their headquarters, so I made sure to scan the skies for incoming helicopter gunships. French Foreign Legion soldier with standard equipment. They finally caught up to me after one of my shoelaces got extremely loose, which caused me to lose some speed. One of the guys dove for my legs, wrapped them up, and I fell to the pavement. I got to my feet very quickly and countered a volley of their punches and kicks with well-placed blocks. I had taken a half credit Karate lab in a college personal wellness class and it paid off big time in that alley. I could tell that these guys were having second thoughts about mixing it up with me, so they sprayed me in the face with heavy-duty mace. I fell to the ground ad they started kicking me with their big, military boots for about an hour until I had to release my grip on the flag. They must have thought that I was dead, because they headed back to the bar. I was a long ways from being dead and, truth be told, I've had a lot worse than that! I had managed to build up a tolerance to mace years before at riots I had participated in during our college homecomings. Also, I have been savagely beaten before in outnumbered situations. One time, the defensive line of the football team ganged up on me just because I accidentally hit one of the guy's sisters with a beer stein I threw. Photo of the UN flag that I now display as a trophy above my TV. The guys happened to leave the flag on the ground beside me, probably because I had wrinkled it severely during our struggle. I immediately grabbed the flag, jumped into a cab and told the driver to step on it and get me out of this district. To my horror, I looked at his ID badge and noticed that his name was "Ahmad" which I knew was no American name! Before he could drive me back to a UN interrogation center, I dove out of the cab. Luckily, he was only going about 45 or so and I managed to land on top of a big plastic trashcan. I made it back to my apartment safely by utilizing natural and manmade cover and walking in a stealthy manner. I woke up physically and emotionally scarred from my brush with UN forces. Beware the rainbow flag, America! DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion and informational exchange list. Proselyzting propagandic screeds are not allowed. Substance—not soapboxing! These are sordid matters and 'conspiracy theory', with its many half-truths, misdirections and outright frauds is used politically by different groups with major and minor effects spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought. That being said, CTRL gives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and always suggests to readers; be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no credeence to Holocaust denial and nazi's need not apply. Let us please be civil and as always, Caveat Lector. ======================================================================== Archives Available at: http://home.ease.lsoft.com/archives/CTRL.html http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/ ======================================================================== To subscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email: SUBSCRIBE CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED] To UNsubscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email: SIGNOFF CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED] Om