taxpayer rant and the balloon profiteer

Well, we have a new president.  I have serious mixed feelings about the whole thing since I kind of like him and I kind of don’t.  I also despise the fact that so much tax payer money is being wasted on security for the inaguration.  150 million just on security was a figure I had heard this morning on the radio.  I don’t know the accuracy of that figure, or the truth behind the statement that 10 times the amount is being spent on security for this inaguration than any before.  It is my opinion that while the country is in such a dire state that the lavish parties should go.  If 150 million alone is being spent on security for this one event, how much is being spent on all of the balls,  parties, and concerts.  Who’s paying the bill there as well?  The tax payers I have to assume.  Don’t get me wrong, I believe that we should celebrate our first African American President, but is it worth the hundreds of millions of tax payer dollars? 

I say no.  Not because I didn’t vote for Barack.  But because that money could have been routed to the poor, homeless, unemployed, uninsured, unmedicated, elderly, or handicapped.  Do you know how many people that much money feeds?  I’ll get down off my soapbox now, but i’ll just say that I am ill from seeing and hearing about how wasteful our government is.  Apparently my wife doesn’t feel the same was as I do on this issue. 

(akward silence)

(crickets chirping)

To end this in a not so angry way, I’ll share with you a  funny story that came out of my balloon twisting session www.iloveballoonanimals.com this past Friday night at Nero’s Pizza. 

Around two months ago I was twisting balloons in the bar area of the restaurant and I received a request from a child who wanted a rifle made out of balloons.  Typically I don’t make guns out of balloons for kids, because the last thing I need on my conscience is to get word that my balloon gun was mistaken for a real one and someone got shot because of it.  Not that you could easily mistake a balloon for a gun, but I am good at balloon twisting and from a distance they do look remotely real.  Anywho, since the child’s father was with him and he approved, I began to twist this rifle with scope for the boy.  Ten minutes later I had created something that looked pretty similar to a balloon rifle and the child was amazed with what had become of air and latex right before his very eyes.  At the next table I visited, having seen the rifle created, a request was put in for another one.  So, another 10 minutes later,  a second balloon rifle was born. 

10 minutes is a long time to spend on one creation.  Typically I spend 2-3 minutes per item and move on. 

15 minutes later, a rather large group arrived for a post basketball game party.  The group included 15 children with ages ranging from 7-15.  Well sure enough, the older boys see the rifle that I had made and had to have one.  With a group that size and with the time that Nero’s pays me to entertain (2 hours) I can not afford to spend 10 minutes on a creation for one child in a group of that size or else I will not get to other children waiting.  So, I told him that I do not have time to make the rifle for him since I could see that not only he wanted it but other boys in the group wanted one as well.  The other children got over it pretty quickly, but the oldest boy would not move on even after I made him a huge hillarious balloon hat.  So, after about 30 minutes I finished with all of thie children in this particular group and made my way to the other side of the restaurant. 

When out of the corner of my eye I see the kid who had to have a rifle running around the restaurant holding one of the balloon rifles from earlier.  It was time for me to go and I never found out how he got that balloon rifle…until last friday night.

I walked up to a table of regulars and said hello and asked what the youngsters would like me to make them, and the older boy said “Do you remember the rifle you made for me a few months ago?”  “Yes, I do.” I replied.  Those rifles took me a long time.  “Do you know what happened to mine after you left?” he asked me.  Typically when a child asks me if I know what happened to their balloon after I make it for them, the answer is “It Popped!” So, I said, “It Popped?”  “No, I sold it.” 

“You sold it?”  I asked.

“Yes” as he began to giggle. 

“Who did you sell it to?”

“There was an older kid who wanted one really badly.”

“How much did you sell it to him for?”

“Ten bucks.” 

“So, let me get this straight…I spent 10 minutes twisting you this awesome rifle that you had to have, and you turned it over for ten bucks within an hour of me making it for you?”

“giggles” 

If the kid would have simply said “I’ll give you ten dollars if you make me a rifle” I might have made one for him.

Filed under: Barack Obama, Vote, balloon, bitchy, grouchy, stupid, train wreck

Obama on the brain

Much has happened in the last 48 hours.  Not only do we have a newly elected president, but also our first african american president.  How exciting.  I have all sorts of thoughts running around my brain about this newly elected official, so I am going to spew them about as fast as possible. 

1.  Right now all of the news outlets are discussing who he is taking to Washington with him.  Rahm Emmanuel as his Chief of Staff.  All sorts of local Chicago suck up’s have (Not Emmanuel because I have never met the man and he intimidates the shit out of me) hit the jackpot now that their guy Obama has been elected.  I feel as if it’s a “The Jeffersons” tv show and everyone is movin on up to the east side (Whitehouse) since they finally got a piece of the pie. 

Amongst all of the people that are moving to Washington, I was waiting for the news to show a picture of me and announce “Dennis will be moving to Washington to be Barack’s official balloon twister to entertain the Obama children hours on end…”  One can dream, can’t he?

2.  Why does it always have to be about the black man?  The first black NFL football coach to win the Superbowl.  The first black President.  Why can’t it be “The first white coach to lose to a black coach in the Superbowl” or “The first white Presidential candidate to lose to a black Presidential candidate.”  Not that I really care either way.  Just sayin.

3. I am miffed slightly about my vote.  For president, as a republican and Catholic, my vote doesn’t count in the state of Illinois.  For all the other elections, it is loud and clear.  I still have issues with the whole electoral college bit, but being in Obama’s back yard hurts when I am not a supporter.  I pray that he is the second coming as the Democratic party has touted him to be, even though he is by far the least religious President based on his stance and voting history in regards to abortion and homosexuality among other religious political topics.  I won’t go down that road, but if you have time, I dare you to read about his voting history and stance on abortion, partial birth abortion, and the Born Alive Infants Protection Act that failed almost single handedly thanks to Barack Obama.  Google “why Jesus would not vote for Barack” and it makes for an interesting read.   

Outside of his views on abortion, I really like the guy.  Just because I didn’t vote for him doesn’t mean that I don’t have high hopes.  I think this country will be great with him at the helm and it will be a great story for the next four years. 

4. Piggy backing on the last post, Biden has hair plugs.  I don’t know why that’s funny to me, but it is.  Any time you can tell when someone had plugs, I giggle a little.  Insecurity about hair, or lack thereof, is funny to me. 

5. I will miss Sarah Palin as will many men in the US. 

This picture would be so much better if she was in one of those nurses outfits…

Here’s to hoping she makes a run for anything that puts her in the public spotlight on a frequent basis with those business suits and glasses sooner rather than later. 

I have other thoughts, but things keep flying in and out of my brain.

For the first time as a home owner, a neighbor is moving away.  Not only is a neighbor moving away, but a pot smoking, dog barking & pooping, child car stealing, no babysitting, fatty laying in the pool, flat tire car, ghetoo police arriving neighbor has moved away.  I almost did cartwheels when I saw the moving truck. Let me quickly explain each of my observations:

pot smoking: One of the many people that lived there or visited often had an older teenage boy. He would hide on the side of his car sitting in the grass at night only in view of my living room window and smoke weed.  I watched him several times.  It was funny to witness his name being called and to see how he would freak out and quickly hide the weed while he would jump up and run inside only to run back out and quickly finish it.  I debated about running out and quickly hiding it and having him come out and look around like a retard.  I could have called the police, but it was more entertaining to watch. 

dog barking & pooping:  They had these twin white poodles that would walk bark and shit everywhere.  We have rules about that in our neighborhood, and like Chuck Norris, they were above the law. 

child car stealing:  My wife watched one day as a four year old mohawked haired boy walked outside, with car keys, and proceeded to get in their van.  The four year old put the keys in the ignition and my wife watched as he started the car.  Being the kindergarten teacher that my wife is, she immediately ran out of the house and took the keys out of the cars ignition.  She knocked on the door and a grandmother answered ”wondering where the little shit went to”.  Not a single thank you to my wife.  The kid could have driven through our house.   

no babysitting:  See child car stealing above

fatty laying in the pool:  Each of the women were pushing 250 to 300lbs each.  I know, I weight close to that, and any one of the women could easily give me a beat down at the buffet line.  During the summer, all the fatties would bring their little kids out and the moms would lay in their bathing suits in the child’s inflatable pool while the kids played.  It was a very difficult thing to watch and I recalled fighting back my gag reflex on several occasions.  Let’s just say that the blinds were left down a lot this summer.   

flat tire car: They had a car parked for a good four months with a flat tire.  Once again above the neighborhood law.   

ghetoo police arriving:  I have no idea why since the police would only respone by saying “please move on sir, everything has been handled”.  I never saw a body carted out, so I assume it was a domestic incident of some sort.   

When we bought out in Round Lake in a beautiful subdivision, we thought we had moved away from the ghetto that we once lived in only to be welcomed by this neighbor.  They are gone now, so life is a little bit better in the hood.

Filed under: Barack Obama, Fatty, Ghetto, Vote, creepy, moving, stupid, trailer, weird

Funny hair talk

After all of my consideration as to what I would do upon my arrival home this evening to celebrate peer pressure in my life, I ended up working late.  I didn’t leave the office until 7:30 so instead of even going to the gym, I decided to swing by my local hair chop shop and have some of my receding hairline manipulated.   I have a weird relationship with the…I don’t know what really to call it…it’s not a barber shop because women work there and there is no candy cane pole spinning, and I don’t want to call it a salon because that is downright gay.  So, the relationship is a love hate relationship.  It’s right by my house, which is nice.  The women that work it are all Polish/Russian/Ukrainian, which is nice because I can’t understand what they are saying 98 percent of the time which I’ll take even though I know that they have to be saying something funny about me.  It’s an even trade really…make fun of me all you want, so long as I don’t have to listen to the stupid things you talk about.  It’s kind of like watching a spanish soap opera.  You hear what they are saying, but I sometimes will make up conversations in my own head purely for self entertainment value.

Tonight I didn’t have to make anything up because I was one on one in the shop, so the lady had no choice but to speak broken ukrainian english.

Let me back up for just a moment.

There are only three women that work there.  The owner, the fat one, and the hot one.  Before you cringe at the fact that I am married and refer to another woman as the hot one, I do so in jest because to the normal man, she would be considered hot, but to me she is as ugly as they come because she sucks at cutting hair. The fat one is hotter than the hot one because she knows exactly how I like to have my hair cut.  And she does this thing at the end with a warm towel and blow dryer that is almost as good as a happy ending in my book.  I could seriously fall asleep that is how relaxing it is.

I do not know the names of any of the women because I don’t speak Russian anyway.  So, I can’t call in and ask “Is the fat lady cutting hair tonight?”  I guess I could…but that would be downright pressing my rudeness threshold.  I digress…

Last night on my way home I drove by, and the Hot one was there.  I sat outside like a stalker waiting to see if my plump lady emerged from the back, but no such luck.  I drove off.  Tonight I drove by again, and knowing the schedule I have before me gave in to the fact that tonight there will be no hot towel rub down in my future.  So, I went one on one with the Hot one.

Funny story #1:  The Ukrainian hair stylist just got back from vacation from Miami beach and she was distraught at the fact that everyone is beautiful in South Beach.  This girl could seriously be a European model and she went on for a good 5 minutes about the fact that in Chicago, she gets lots of attention from boys, but in Miami Beach she didn’t get the attention that she had hoped.  Wow.  I don’t know if she has any clue that in the US it’s good to refrain from telling people about how hot you are.

Funny story #2:  Ukrainian people are deathly afraid of Barack Obama.  This woman straight up told me that if Barack Obama is voted president she is moving back to Ukrain.  After laughing so hard that she had to stop with the hair cut, I asked for clarification about what she had just said.  She went on to explain that the economy right now will become worst if Barack Obama is voted president.  She likes Hillary Clinton for the simple reason that when Bill was president the economy was the best it’s ever been and Bill Clinton was the reason that she and many of her family and friends moved to the US.  Her main argument about why Barack Obama will be so bad was based on the fact that she heard that his wife didn’t like white people, which once again, set me into a fit of laughter.

Not only is the hair lady ugly for sucking at cutting my hair but she has a slight shade of racist too.

Funny Story #3:  When trying to talk to me about Las Vegas, she asked me if I had ever seen the movie:  11 Friends of Las Vegas Ocean.  “You mean Oceans 11″ “yes, that is the movie”.

This might not be as funny to you as it was for me hearing her say that, but I still got a kick out of it.  I have a newfound fascination with the mind of Ukrainians.

Filed under: Barack Obama, Hair cut, Hillary Clinton, confused, stupid

Hi, is that your boob?

First things first.  I have to get two things off my chest, and as I sit in cubicle hell, I want to stand up on my desk and yell.

1.  Barack Obama went bowling.  Or did he?  He bowled a 37 in front of hundreds of onlookers who all joked with how bad he was at bowling.  His excuse? It’s been 30 years since he put on bowling shoes.  I hate to say it, but whoever in his campaign thought that doing something for fun to drum up votes should be kicked in the groin.  I know that they were probably trying to do something that fellow Pennsylvanians could relate to, and putting on a jersey and hoop shorts wouldn’t work.  So, what else could he do?  Bowling? People in Pennsylvania love their bowling.  I don’t know what is sadder, the fact that Barack was so bad, or the fact that the only recreational thing he could think of to relate to people in that state includes a sport that is best enjoyed with a beer in one hand and a mustard/grease stain on the shirt. 

2.  For all of you DVR owners, be sure to set it to record the Today show on Friday.  Cause the New kids on the block are back!  And to think that after all these years, my prayers weren’t being heard. 

Here they are in their early 40’s/late 30’s.  I don’t know if New kids on the block will work any longer.  Maybe Old Guys in Denial who need money is a better description.  Of all the bands that I have dreamt of seeing a reunion, this one just might be ranked in the 3-4 hundred range (being nice). 

Now that I got that off my chest, back to Vegas.  After the best man proposal and drinking in the pool for a few hours, we got dressed and met one of our friends parents at the Bellagio for Dinner.  After dinner we were walking back to the MGM when I decided that I was going to pick up some water/Gatorade for the room since we never have enough on past trips.  The two others head back to the hotel while I swing in and decide that it would be a good idea to get a case of bottled water and three big big bottles of gatorade.  I don’t know what I was thinking because that was a shit load of liquid for one man to carry.  No big deal, since MGM appeared to be right in front of me. 

Let me pause this story for just a moment.  If you have not been to Vegas, let me explain something.  Just because something looks to be right in front of you, doesn’t mean it is.  Due to the gigantism of the hotels out there, many a times have I looked at something and said “let’s walk” only to realize that it was a bad idea after walking for an hour and only being half way there.  For any of you who have been, you know what I am talking about. 

Back to the story.  I decide to go boom box with my case of water and throw it up on my shoulder.  Three bags in the other hand.  Walking along, and I get maybe a good 300 yards away when I realize that i’m not as close as I thought.  So, I set everything down and take a breather, not wanting to break a sweat since I am already dressed for what should be a crazy ass night.  I continue this time putting the bottle on my other shoulder and moving on,  but the other arm begins to burn much faster.  So, I stop again.  Shit, I started sweating.  I take another break.  5 breaks later, I finally see a side entrance to the casino and wondered if it would be unlocked.  I head over and by now my Calvin Klein baby blue starched dress shirt has mega sweat rings formed under my arm pits, and I start to feel sweat seeping into the shirt on my chest and stomach.  I looked like I just ran a freaking marathon when I have walked all of half a mile.  As I approach the door with case of water on shoulder and sweat showing, the door opens up and out walks this guy followed by a woman.  They were all dolled up for a night on the town and I look over and see a limo waiting for them.  She was wearing one of those tops that is super loose and the neck line plunges down to the navel area, left with hanging collar that covers the boobs.  You know what I am talking about. 

As she pushes the door open, something about the way she stretched out one arm combined with a sudden gust of wind that just opened up the left side of her top causing one of the most glorious boobs to just pop out. 

I don’t say glorious because it was a nice boob, because I am married and I truly only enjoy the site of my own wife’s boobies, but I describe it as glorious because any time you are witness to an unexpected boob exposure, it is truly a glorious experience.  I digress…

As the wind blows, she feels that her breast is exposed, and by now I am just staring with a smile on my face.  She quickly fixed her top.  I quickly turn around to see that the guy is already getting into the limo and is a good distance away, when I utter “nice boobie” to her as I walk through the door.  I wish I would have had more time to have said something like, “very nice” or “thanks for the show” or ”those aren’t fake” but “nice boobie” was all I could conjure with such short notice. 

I continued on my sweaty way up to the room looking back frequently for a man ready to punch me for my comment, but there was no such encounter.  It was at that moment that I knew I was in for a good night. 

Filed under: Barack Obama, Boobies, bachelor party, beer, free porn, memories

The number one reason I won’t vote for Hillary

Call me sexist if you want to.  Call me a jerk.  Call me whatever you want to.  I am Republican by nature.  Not because I truly believe that I am republican but mostly because I had such a meager childhood that I am the type of guy that will jump at any chance to rub elbows with people that enjoy money.  (Not that money is the main differentiator between Democrat and Republican.)  I am sick of the way things are going in our country.  I was all for Bush.  I liked him, liked that religion was involved in his decisions since I like to think I am a pretty religious man.  But, I like Barack Obama for the upcoming election.  I don’t know why.  I think that Senator Hillary Clinton has too much baggage to be our president.  I personally don’t know what was stronger of her during the Monica Lewinsky scandal.  I am still torn to this day.  Was she strong for not leaving Bill Clinton after everything came out?  Or was it a sign of weakness that she didn’t say F-you! to him and kick him to the curb?  Being Catholic, I have to believe that she did the right thing by not leaving him, but deep down in a dark corner of my mind I wish she would have divorced him.  You know why?  Because I fear that if another country that we are in cahoots with gets caught with their penis in another countries mouth, Hillary will forget that it happened much like she did with her husband.   

Harsh?  I guess so.  I don’t mean to be, but I am.  And her breakdown today secured my concerns.  This is a snipit from the Chicago Tribune today:

(it can be found at this address: http://weblogs.chicagotribune.com/news/politics/blog/2008/01/clinton_chokes_up_with_emotion.html)

PORTSMOUTH, N.H. – One does not see Hillary Clinton’s eyes get misty in public very often, so there was an instant buzz in the room when she got choked up today in a café here.

The moment, which certainly appeared unscripted, happened near the end of her visit with undecided voters, as she was asked how she gets ready in the morning, how she keeps looking good on the road and who does her hair.

“It’s not easy,” she said, in her usual coolness. “And I couldn’t do it if I just didn’t, you know, passionately believe it was the right thing to do.”

But as she continued, the New York senator’s eyes started welling up.

“I have so many ideas for this country,” she said, choking up. “I just don’t want to see us to fall backwards.”

Sensing she was getting emotional, those in the cafe applauded.

“This is very personal for me,” she said, regaining her composure and getting back on message. “I’ve seen what’s happening, and we have to reverse it.”

Then, she got choked up again.

“Some people think elections are a game,” she said. “It’s about our country. It’s about our kids’ futures…Some of us put ourselves out there…But we do it, each one of us, because we care about our country. And some of us are right, and some of us our wrong. Some of us are ready and some of us are not. Some of us know what to do on day one, and some of us really haven’t thought that through enough.”

Regaining her composure, Clinton confessed to being tired from the rigors of the campaign trail.

“This is one of the most important elections America has ever faced,” she said. “So, as tired as I am, and I am…I’m going to make my case, and the voters get to decide.”

I don’t really know what to say.  Once again, is it o.k. for a woman to become a little emotional?  Yes, it most certainly is.  Do I feel comfortable knowing that when things get tough our leader is going to break down and shed some tears in front of America?  Not at all.  Not one bit.  What country is going to fear us with a leader that is going to cry when things get tough?  None that I know of.  She is not the least bit intimidating.  I can’t say that Barack Obama is a very intimidating fellow either, but there is a silent badass quality to him.  

Filed under: Barack Obama, Cry baby, Election, Hillary Clinton