Gots no time

That’s my overall theme lately.  This past weekend was as big a trainwreck as ever experienced.  I can’t go too much into it, but it did involve open bar/friends wedding.  Some scary shit took place that I regret, and I have created a rule for myself where if I have access to open bar that I will only truly enjoy it if my wife is present to take care of me.  I never liked my liver anyway. 

I scared the crap out of my wife.  There is something about me vomiting in the shower after a night of drinking that she doesn’t agree with so much.  You know how I know I scared the bejeezus out of my wife?  She didn’t talk to me yesterday.  At all.  I sat in a vegatative state trying to recover and prep for Wednesday, and she never said anything to me about what took place the night before. 

Tomorrow is the big day.  I will be performing in front of a total of between 1800-2000 throughout three different performances.  If I don’t screw up and get arrested by the Vernon Hills Police Dept for sucking (they are the ones who hired me) then I have one final performance on Thursday morning.  This date has been looming over my head for the past 5 months.  Every time I have thought about it since they hired me, I would get knots and butterflies in my stomach.  I will truly celebrate (not like this weekend, but emotionally) come Thursday afternoon.  

Wish me luck!  Kill em tiger!  Break a leg!  Whatever they say.  Hopefully tomorrow afternoon I will be able to say that it went as well as I have dreamed.  I will post some pictures after it’s done of my handiwork with balloons. 

 

Filed under: Captain, Cops, balloon, beer, drunk, scared, shower, stupid, train wreck, vomit, weekend, weird, wife, work

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program…

Last week I posted earlier in the week thinking that I was feeling better, and I was wrong.  Not long after the post, I digressed, and went back to full on stomachy sickness.  Being the man that I am, I went against all recommendations from the wife to go and see a doctor.  Growing up I truly believed “if it isn’t spurting blood or a bone isn’t sticking out, then there isn’t a good enough reason to go to the doctor”.  For this particular issue, I came pretty darn close though, because the internal works that is my digestive system didn’t seem to like me very much last week.  I believe that I had some sort of Salmonella poisoning or Campylobacter.  I don’t know exactly, but as bad as it was, it was more than just the stomach flu. 

Due to my lack of being able to eat anything solid for a good week, I have dropped another 10lbs in the past week, and I am seriously a new fan of the Ebola Virus Diet.  That is what i’m gonna call it.  When you see me on TV at 4am recommending that you lick a raw chicken breast that’s been sitting int he hot sun for 24 hours as a great way to lose weight, know that I finally found a way to make my first million. 

“I lost 15lbs on Dennis’s lick tainted Chicken diet!” 

“Not only did Dennis’s lick tainted Chicken diet help me lose 30lbs, I also got to go for a ride in an ambulance!!!”  “Could losing weight ever get any better??!??” 

“We might bring you to the brink of death…but at least you’ll look slimmer in that hospital gown!” 

Wow…the ideas…can’t stop…

In other news, Saturday was declared “Dennis Mental Health Day!” It was a great day because:

1. My wife was sick. 

Not that her being sick makes it a great day, but because that means that she isn’t going to be in a mood to do anything.  Household chores included.  So, she slept on the couch all day while I geeked out and played video games. 

2. We went and saw a great movie at the theater. 

I know that I just said that my wife was sick, and she was. We were forced to leave the house and drive down to refill my father in law’s meds, and while we were out decided to see the new movie, Forgetting Sarah Marshall.  Hands down one of the funniest, best Apatow movie yet.  I am a huge fan. 

3. I didn’t have to twist balloons on Saturday. 

This was the first Saturday in over 3 months where I wasn’t rushing around Chicago schlepping my balloons for birthday parties.  I needed a break from my balloons because I was seriously getting burned out on it all.  May is a super scary month for me because I will be putting on 4 different assemblies at four different schools on behalf of a local police dept towards the end of the month, and having never done this thing before in front of 600 people at each school and local news people, there isn’t much room for failure.  These assemblies will make or break me and I don’t know if I am in the mood to hear “you’ll never work in this town again” from a police officer. 

 

 

 

Filed under: Cops, balloon, ride the snake, stupid, train wreck, weekend, weird, wife, work

“Put your elbows on the table…”

Yesterday will go down in the archives of my life as possibly one of the worst ever. 

“Put your elbows on the table..” He said.  If you don’t know what that means, let me back up and work up to it.

Yesterday started off shitty to begin with.  When taking out the garbage on Monday night, I managed to hit a patch of ice and fell.  The rolling garbage can fell too.  I think I hit the ground harder because the garbage can wasn’t whimpering as loud as I was as I rolled it out to the street.  I hurt my back.  I think it might be the worst that my back has ever felt.  Either something is torn or I have punctured a lung.  I can’t be certain.  Anytime that I breath or move suddenly I wince in pain.  I would assume that if my lung was punctured, I would really know and I would have gone to the hospital, so I am leaning towards something being torn.  I will give it a few more days. 

So, getting out of bed Tuesday morning and getting dressed was a treat.  I was off to work.  Upon arrival and review of my daily outlook calendar of appointments and conference calls, it shocked me to see that I had a Urologist appointment scheduled for 2:30pm.  Joyous.  I haven’t seen one of them in a few years.  I have been having issues that I won’t describe here, but I can say that these issues were major in my life 10-12 years ago and I had to have surgery.  Now the issues have slowly crept back into my life which is setting off alarms everywhere now that my wife and I are considering having children. 

My new Urologist isn’t very nice.  The nurse asked me all of the standard fare questions as she typed them into the computer in my little room.  After a good 10 minute wait the doctor finally arrived.  He was an older Doctor wearing very eccentric pants and shoes.  Upon arrival, he introduced himself and then sat down at the computer.  He began to type and click the mouse.  I was unable to see the monitor from where I was because there was a privacy screen.  He typed and clicked for a good 7-10 minutes while I sat there in the quiet room.  No questions, no chatter…I honestly felt I was back in my high pressure close the sale days where the first person to talk would lose.  I lost.  I noticed a pamphlet next to the doctor that was covering “No-Needle, No-Scalpel, Vasectomy”.  I instantly thought about my friend Toms (www.stupidtom.com) questions regarding this “non-invasive” procedure, and saw my chance to get some answers.  Tom’s concern from what I recalled was a question about where the sperm goes.  His answer was very scientific and he discussed how the semen remains the same since that doesn’t come from where the sperm cells come from.  The sperm cells get absorbed in the body (he used some fancy term to say that it doesn’t cause any problems when absorbed since they are only cells that the body created to begin with…something like protein enzymes or something technical like that.)  But I will type word for word a potential complication as it is stated in the pamphlet:

“Sperm granuloma, a hard, sometimes painful lump about the size of a pea may form as a result of the sperm leaking from the cut vas deferens.  The lump is not dangerous and is almost always resolved by the body in time.  Scrotal support and mild pain relievers are usually all that are needed for symptoms, thought I may suggest other treament.”

“Congestion, a sense of pressure caused by sperm in the testes, epididymis, and lower vas deferens, may cause discomfort some 2 to 12 weeks after vasectomy.  Like granuloma, congestion usually resolves itself in time.”  

I won’t comment on this.  I will let the words speak to each of you in it’s own little way.  Back to me and my quiet wait.  I honestly think he was checking email.  Checking email or playing sudoku online.  Maybe even a cross word? 

We finally got down to the tests. Most of everything he said was good news.  I have to do some more testing to be sure, so more will come.  After he began explaining what was going on, he pointed at the table and said, “Put your elbows on the table” as he reached for a tube of jelly.  I can’t be certain what happened next because it is all a bit foggy, but I remember him saying something about ”not fighting it” and while throwing a box of kleenex at me to “clean myself up”.  As I drove away a little tear streamed down my cheek.  (being over dramatic) 

Ok, so there wasn’t a tear, but definitely a grimace at what I had just experienced…until…wait for it…BAM, BAM!  Within 5 minutes of having a finger shoved in and around my rectum I hit a pothole that destroyed my two right tires.  It had seriously been  5 minutes since one of the most traumatic events occured in my life until I was now unable to get off the road due to having tires shredded by a three foot long pot hole that had to have been 8-10 inches deep. 

An officer called in for a tow truck since I was actually blocking one of two lanes, and AAA wasn’t going to be able to get someone to me for a good 45 minutes to an hour.  My wife picked me up, we followed the tow truck to the auto place and the wife and I continued on to the restaurant in Algonquin where I twisted balloons and she graded papers and did school work for a good two hours. 

…yep, I would say that yesterday sucked something hard.

Filed under: Cops, Cry baby, achy, balloon, balls, body, pain, scared, scrotum, stupid, weird, wife

Slingin Rock

 

I am struggling today.  This morning has been occupied with nothing but frustration becuase I am not being able to find anything that I am looking for on the web.  I think they call that product failure in the biz.  I don’t know what biz that is, but I have heard that before. 

This morning I have finally discovered how I am going to make my millions.  I thought being a balloon twister might help get me there, but the work is too hard, and doesn’t have the tremendous upside that my newfound profession will.  I have decided today to make a change in my life.  To work less and make more.  To put my low earning days behind me.  I, my friends, am going to learn to be a crack dealer. 

The one problem is that I can’t find anywhere on the internet on how to deal crack.  Typically in life whenever I am faced with something that I don’t know how to do, I go right to the web.  In this case, I am finding the amount of resources for a future slinger of rock to be very limited.  I can’t even find one resource book through any of the major library websites.  I can find all sorts of information on what it is, what it does to you, and where it can put you, but nothing on how to begin selling. 

I didn’t make this decision in any quick manner.  I have been thinking about it for at least two days now.  I have not told my wife, and I don’t plan on it.  I wonder if she would notice by the time I start getting “Tats” and become “Strapped”.  Or maybe when she notices my “Bling”.  I think there might be signs there for her to follow, but who knows. 

The real reason I made this decision is because of the Supreme Courts recent decision to ease crack cocaine punishment guidelines.  I am usually not one to write about current events, but this one has not only become good news for any crack smoker, but it has changed the path that I shall follow to make my quest towards the american dream. 

The Supreme Court thought that it wasn’t fair that the punishment for a crack dealer/smoker was much harsher than a cocaine dealer/snorter.  It became a racial issue because of 19,500 inmates being held on crack charges, 86 percent are african american.  It’s a very public and known fact that crack rock is predominantly used by blacks; power cocaine, predominantly by whites.  So, it would be fair to ask why would someone who smokes crack get a harsher sentence than someone who snorts it?  I am with the courts on that question, but here is the issue. 

That group of 19,500 inmates who are being held on crack charges all have the potential to be released early if this ruling becomes retroactive.  This will take a vote, but if it is voted that the punishment was too harsh for the crime, then we could be looking at upwards to 19,000 crack users being released back into the crack smoking market. 

I may not be a genius, I may not have a masters in marketing, but that number of users of anything being released back out into the world should equate to dollar signs.  I am not choosing crack for any reason other than the fact that it is the one thing that these 19,000 people have in common.  If I knew that they all liked the brand Charmin toilet paper, I would probably buy a bunch of Charmin stock knowing that 19,000 people are getting out of prison and are tired of wiping their asses with whatever single ply TP the prison systems supply them with.  Today, if I am a crack dealer, I am on my knee’s praying for that vote to go through because there will be a whole slew of old customers that will begin buying again. And it’s not like they will get out and all be rehabilitated.  Don’t get me wrong here, but if they were smoking and dealing crack when they knew of the harsh penaties, doesn’t the fact that they will now be looking at a less harsh penalty defeat the rehabilitation to begin with?   

For the story that details my info and props to my friends over at CNN for their coverage:  http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/law/12/11/cocaine.sentencing.ap/index.html

Other industries that I looked at as a potential future for living my American Dream:

Home Security Sales

Crack Distributor (even less can be found on the web on distributing than dealing)

Law Enforcement

Gun Dealer

Tattoo artist

Gold teeth sales www.goldteeth.com

Emergency Room Surgeon

and finally Funeral Services

I will be getting in touch with my home security salesperson soon to ensure that we are all good with sensors and shit.  I just increased my home insurance as well.  What are you going to do to prepare for the return of all of our crack rock brothers and sisters?

Filed under: Blood, Cops, body, stupid, weird

Holiday Party Beatdown

I am sitting here in my office this morning trying to figure out if the headache I have is still the remnants of a 48 hour hangover from this weekends festivities. 

If you want to hear about the Friday night Christmas party, go to www.stupidtom.com. He has even uploaded photos as well. 

The party was great.  It was my first time attending this event and I was overly impressed at how well it went.  By the sounds of Tom’s post, there were some issues with the DJ, but I hardly noticed any issue other than the fact that it was 100% wedding music, but I always say that you get what you pay for.  I especially dislike this DJ becuase he has always had a thing for my wife, and I was hoping for a chance to talk to him without my wife being around.  I would prefer that he never talks to her or ever looks at her again.  I can’t really believe that just came out of my mouth…or fingertips in this situation, because I have never been around someone that has creeped me out quite as much as he does.  My wife thinks he is just a sweet guy.  Apparently he was dumped many years back by one of my wife’s friends from high school and he is still hung up on this girl.  Well, this ex girlfriend of the DJ is apparently running for Mrs. Illinois and at the holiday party on Friday night this guy told my wife that she looked better than his ex-girlfriend that is running for Mrs. Illinois.  The weird thing was that he said it to her right in front of me.  I was in shock as he asked her personal questions about where she teaches (specifically what school) and she answered without batting an eye.  I wouldn’t bet against the possibility that this guy might be a few donuts short of a dozen.   This was the fourth event that we have booked him for between church and GOoF, and it will be the last based on his most recent performance and what he has said to my wife.  Maybe he was just trying to be nice, but I still get a scary feeling with this guy. 

The evening came and went entirely too fast and before I knew it the clock struck midnight and we were on our way home. 

Saturday I morphed into my weekend clown and did balloon twisting for a 4 year old party.  The party was held at this brand new pizza place in Elgin, Illinois that just opened up on Friday night.   The roughest part of the event was the fact that I was still hung over and I was trying to entertain a good 20 children.  Even rougher was the fact that this restaurant had a good amount of dust on the cement floors and every time a child would let a creation hit the ground, it would pop.  So, more of my time was spent fixing and remaking than creating. 

Saturday night was Holiday party number two for the weekend and I will try and capture the highlights of the absolute craziness that happened. 

First of all, this was a small gathering of people.  Around 14 people.  And it was a costume party.  You had to dress up as either a character from your favorite christmas movie or some sort of crazy christmas outfit.  Since I was unable to locate a Buddy Elf outfit that fit me or a pink bunny pajama costume with bunny slippers, I was at square one with 2 hours before the party started.  My wife decided that she would be that little girl that says “every time a bell rings, an Angel gets it’s wings…” Zuzu or Zuluu or whatever her name is.  She was cute in her little pajama/robe outfit.  I however, wanted to push the limits of good taste. 

I went as a 70’s Porn Star Santa.  Complete with 70’s Used Car Salesman wig, porn star mustache, fake furry chest hair, bad cheap santa suit, porn star santa sun glasses and my very own dick in a box from Saturday night live.  My description doesn’t do it justice.  Only a photo will. I will do everything I can to get a photo online to demonstrate just how ridiculous my outfit was.  

There was all sorts of craziness that ensued including the host puking and passing out before 11:00pm and I think I remember being on the phone at one point with my sophomore football coach talking about my dick in a box outfit.  (His daughter was at this party and sent him a photo of me from her cellphone.) Many photo’s were taken by many people, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find my photo circulating around the internet before I get it up online on this site, it was just that wrong.  I rode with Captain Morgan at both parties this weekend, and come Sunday morning I felt like the Captain had struck his pose and smashed my head against his raised knee at least a dozen times.  As I was driving to Church Sunday Morning I prayed that I didn’t get pulled over because it might have been possible that my blood alcohol level was still hovering around the legal limit to drive. 

It’s rare that I am excited to be sitting at my desk and back at work, but I am.  This weekend allowed me to appreciate sobriety a little more.  Tonight Sebastian goes in for his one week followup to his last appointment, so I hope the doctor gives me good news.  More to follow on that and I will do my best to get some pictures up as soon as possible. 

Filed under: Birthday, Captain, Church, Cops, achy, balloon, pain, puke, sore, stupid, train wreck, vomit, weird, wife, work

Thanksgiving eve

For the first time in over five days I have a moment to sit back and reflect upon what was my Thanksgiving.  Like a fine wine, my thoughts about the past five days are getting better as they age.  It is hitting me this morning just how F’d up the holiday started and how I still can’t believe that my wife and I pulled it off.  We had never hosted Thanksgiving before for the whole family and I think we did a damn good job.  Here are some of the funny ass highlights to our crazy Thanksgiving.

Wednesday night I was prepared to go crazy ass in the kitchen since I was in charge of everything.  I decided to brine the turkey this year, which meant bathing the turkey in a solution for around 24 hours.  My older brother, sister-in-law, and my 2 nieces and 3 nephews were coming up on Wednesday evening so that they didn’t have to drive on Thanksgiving day.  They left from Bloomington, IL around 6:00pm and we expected them to arrive at our house around 9:30 pm.  The house was fully prepared for the assault that would be 5 children and two additional adults.  The inflatable mattresses were set up, the hide a bed couch was pulled out and the guest bedroom was all set.  All I had to do was cook while I waited.  I started pulling stuff out to start cooking at 8:00pm.  I started late because of the drama that was my mother and younger brother.  My mother had come home Wednesday after drinking and in her drunken state decided that she wasn’t going to come up for Thanksgiving after all which left my little brother out of a ride up to the northwest suburbs of Chicago.  I had to work with him on calling her bluff and we agreed that he would not make any sudden plans and would wait out our mother’s wrath and see how she was in the morning.  If she had not changed her mind by then, he would drive up alone Thursday morning. 

Once we were done with all of that (which took over an hour and a half of phone calls) I made my way to the kitchen.  Upon entering the kitchen my wife’s phone rang.  It was my older brother. (I am going to switch to the present tense to describe the following story to fully capture the moments of the messed up story) 

Wife:  Your brother is on the phone.  He has a flat tire.       

Me:  Tell him to change his tire.                                                

Wife:  (after asking if he is able to change his tire)  He doesn’t have a spare tire.                                                                       

Me:  (use both hands to cover my face to conceal the anger that is shooting through my body) He doesn’t have a spare tire????  He is driving a family of 7 in a van up to Chicago without a spare tire????  Give me the phone!                             

Me:  Chris, you mean to tell me that you drove all this way without a spare tire?                                                                   

Chris:  I just bought new tires for the van.                               

Me:  Where are you?                                                                   

Chris:  We are on 53N.                                                                 

Me: Where at on 53N?                                                                

Chris:  I don’t know.                                                                        

Me:  Can you give me any idea from a street sign or anything?                                                                                    

Chris:  NO.                                                                                      

Chris:  We are where 53N Splits between local and express.  We are on the express side.                                                             

Me:  Let me call you back in a few minutes. 

After feverishly discussing with the wife our options, she thinks we need to find someone that can bring a van tire out to the scene and put it on.  I have never heard of such a service.  I started calling tow services and even triple A to explain the scenario and the best solution that anyone can come up with is to tow the car somewhere that they can fix the tire.  But the problem is that it is now 8:30pm on Thanksgiving eve.  There will not be a tire place open for another 38 hours.  On top of all of that, they are in the express lanes of one of the busiest highways in the suburbs and they have 5 children in the car.  It is not like the children can jump out of the car and walk off the side of the road.  A towtruck can only seat two adults.  What the hell are we going to do with all of the children? 

After I call my brother back to address these concerns, he tells me that he does have a spare tire but does not have a tire iron.  A cop pulls up as I am talking to my brother and I ask him if he can borrow a tire iron from the cop.  As the cop walks up I ask Chris to hand the phone to the cop, and the cop tells me that they have to drive a mile and get the hell out of there because the officer says, and I quote “They are going to get killed if they don’t move the car”.  My brother will not drive on the flat because he doesn’t want to ruin the rim.  I told the officer that I would call a tow truck, and he said that he would since he can get someone there very fast.  My brother does not have a credit card, so I told the officer to call me for payment.  I get back on the phone with my brother and now the challenge is the children.  What do we do with all of the children.  Oh, and it is now snowing very hard out.  I grab some pants, gloves, and a jacket and jump in my car to drive down to where they are.  The officer said they are right above Algonquin road on 53N.  That is a 45 minute drive for me.  So much for sleeping tonight since I haven’t even begun to prepare for the Thanksgiving meal.  By the time I see them on 53N the tow truck is there and my brother tells me that they are going to the Walmart auto center at Algongquin and Golf road.  The officer has 5 kids in his back seat and will follow the tow truck.  I meet them there and thanked the officer.  He laughed because he had never had so many children in his car before.  The children were all excited because they got a free ride in a cop car with the lights on and everything.  After the officer left we pulled all of their bags out of the van, and loaded everyone into my little chevy prizm.  3 adults and 5 children in my little car.  I felt like I was back in college.  The worst part of the drive home was that I had to drive slow and the fact that it smelled like the whole family had not bathed in a month.  It was snowing out, but I still kept my window down to combat the smell.  At 11:00pm we finally arrived at my place.  The children were so wound up at this point that they didn’t end up going to sleep for a few hours after they arrived. 

I hit the kitchen and began to prepare the meal.  I have so much more to write about but I will split this into several posts so that I don’t waste my whole day on this.  Some funny shit went down.  I don’t know if my post truly captured the essence of the situation, but I can say that I became angrier than I have ever been no less than 4 times throughout this process.  I would guess that I easily doubled my previous blood pressure record. 

To be continued…

Filed under: Blood, Cops, In laws, body, excuse, grouchy, mean, smelly, thanksgiving, train wreck, wife

Superholidayjinx

Moving forward I will never post about my family again. 

After reading that line, one might assume that something horrific happened and it had.  When you blog about how you feel about your family many bad things could happen.  Like they stumble upon the blog and read about your feelings that you might not ever say to them in person.  Would I ever tell them that I have an issue with their bathing frequency or infrequency?  No.  But I would tell any stranger that does not know me or them.  Until now. 

Yesterday I wrote about how rednecky my family is.  I wrote about my older brother’s family.  How he and his wife are anything but in love and how they might be required to bathe prior to a prolonged visit over the holiday.  I exaggerate sometimes.  Sometimes it isn’t as bad as what I write, but none the less it is bad.  I believe my blog yesterday may have triggered something somehow without directly being known by anyone in my family….I could stall longer, but I bet it’s getting annoying by now…

Last night, before my pool league, I received a call from my wife.  She said that my sister in law had just called her, and explained that DCFS had been called on them.  They were threatening to take away my nieces and nephews.  The DCFS worker was going to go back to their house Friday morning and then to the children’s school on Friday to interview the children.  Not to go too much further with this story, but now my sister in law is attempting to leave my brother and take the children and move out of their house and my brother had some sort of tae kwon doe touney that he chose to go to instead of staying home with the possibility of their children being taken away by DCFS and he doesn’t seem to care and they do not love each other and they have 5 children and they live in squalor.  Whew!  What a mouthful.  F’d up if you ask me. 

The scariest part of this whole issue was that if DCFS actually took away the children, they wouldn’t have gone to some home, they would have come to us.  My wife and I were about one ill tempered DCFS worker away from having all of my nieces and nephews living with us.  Wow.  I almost went from having no children to having a new household filled with 5 children a wife and a sister in law. 

I don’t know where I am going with all of this, but the preperation for my first time hosting Thanksgiving is getting better by the day.  My right eye twitch is pulsating as if it’s a McRibb and will only be around for a limited time.   From here on out I am going to keep the crazies in my family out of the blog world for fear that I have the feds reading every word I say.  Did I mention that I love the IRS?  I really, really do. 

Happy scary friday to all.  At least that was what it has been for me.  I spent an hour and a half denying family issues today by submerging myself in new home office furniture.  Amazing how spending money on me makes me forget about everything else that is wrong in my life.   The children get to stay with my sister in law, so that is good.  Big Gorilla off my back.  Boring weekend ahead.  Nothing too exciting going on except I anticipate grocery shopping for Thanksgiving and cleaning in preperation of the holiday.  Shopping for Thanksgiving might not be so bad after all since it is possible that no one will come.  Just so long as I have my hour two traditional hours with the turkey fryer and Captain Morgan, I won’t care about anything.  Captain…take me away…or is that Calgon…

Filed under: Cops, In laws, achy, confused, fight, grouchy, mean, pain, shower, sleepy, smelly, stink, stupid, train wreck, weird, wife, work

Your average everyday weekend fall guy

 

I am happy to announce that I am back at my desk and working hard on this Monday morning.  Something doesn’t work about that sentence since I am at work and actually typing on this site.  I am actually blessed to be here since I had a run in with the law this weekend.  Here’s the story:

Saturday evening my brother and sister in law bought tickets for my wife’s birthday to go see Josh Kelly and Sister Hazel at the Morton Arboretum.  On Friday I went onto the Arboretum site and was unfortunate enough to notice the fine print where it said “no alcohol is allowed to be brought into the concert, the Morton Arboretum will have beer and wine for sale at locations throughout the grounds….”  I questioned this little fine line since it was a very small and fine line.  Could they possibly staff the required amount of people to go through everything?  So, on the way to the concert we stopped by Jewel and I bought some Champagne, beer, wine, and a big bag of ice to go into my roller cooler that I won at a golf outing earlier this summer.  The cooler looks more like a rolling bucket with pockets galore.  Anyway, I filled it with booze, dumped ice on top as if I am trying to hide it all, and then covered everything with layers of subs from subway, taco dip, and snacks.  “Let’s see if they uncover any booze through all those layers!” I thought. When we arrived I decided to go even deeper with my mission to break the rule by stacking 4 of the chairs that collapse into the bag on top of my roller cooler and I even covered everything twith two blankets and a tarp.  By the time I was done, you couldn’t even tell that there was a cooler below everything.  As we neared the ticket takers I realized why the line was going slow when I saw tables set up beyond the gates.  I started to get a lump in my throat as we neared because out of the four of us, I had almost all of our stuff stacked on top of my cooler and I had gotten caught up in a very tight line 5 people back from my wife and the inlaws.  By the time I made it to the gate, they had all gone through security and then it was my turn.  The lady was checking everything.  She made me take my mountain of picnic apart so that she could get a glimpse inside my cooler.  After a minute of huffing and puffing on my part we finally got down to the cooler.  She opened it and went through it as if she were looking for a chemical agent that might be used to blow up the concert.   After she removed my layer after layer of food, she rummaged deep into the ice to find 12 bottles of beer and two large bottles for the Champagne and Wine.  She looked up at me as if I had just attempted to kidnap her first born.  With a disgusted face she looked over at a tent and screamed “This WHOLE COOLER!!!!  CONFISCATE THIS WHOLE COOLER!!!!”  I looked over at a tent that was 20 feet away and a cute old lady was there waiting for me to haul my bucket of happiness over to her.  On the tables surrounding this old lady was what I can only describe as what I hope heaven is like.  Liquor spread everywhere from all the dumbasses like myself who thought they would beat the system.  I was given a sticker and told I could come back after the concert and collect my cooler.  At least they allowed me to take it home.  Now I have 40 bucks worth of booze to enjoy alone in the comfort of my own home.  I acted as if I had no idea when the old lady took the cooler.  She felt really bad and apologized for having to confiscate my alcohol as I continued to feed her lines about this being my first time (which it was) and how I thought it was like ravinia (which it wasn’t).  So I guess it was only half lying. 

Let me just add a bit of commentary to the whole experience and policy of the Morton Arboretum. 

1.  The TSA should recruit each and every security volunteer from the Morton Arboretum.  These women were only volunteers and they did their job better than TSA workers who actually get paid to identify contraband.  If the TSA catches wind of this and decides to make a move, it is offically documented that it was my idea and I fully expect an recruiting finders fee of 20 percent of the annual salary. 

2.  The purpose of not allowing alcohol in, is not for the safety of the guests, or because it is a state run park, but purely greed.  They want the revenue from sales.  Well, screw them.  I came to the park to watch a concert and drink… not support an arboretum.  This is difficult for me to comprehend since Ravinia welcomes you to get smashed on your own dime.  So, to fight “the man” I didn’t drink one ounce of anything alcoholic the entire time I was there.  I think they call that “cutting off the nose to spite the face” or something like that.  Also we had very minimal cash and there was not a single mobile ATM to be found outdoors near the vendor tents.  If you will not allow credit card for liquor sales for a concert venue, then a cash station should be mandatory.  Charge people 3 bucks to withdraw twenty or forty…or whatever, but at least give people to get cash to buy your overpriced alcohol. (Which I still would not have done even if their was an ATM.) 

3.  The security people didn’t check inside the bags that held the folding chairs.  Anyone who wants to sneak alcohol into the park must simply just hide a good bottle of something strong (Captain preferably) into a chair and then fold it up so that everything squeezes nicely into the bag.  I couldn’t stop my thoughts throughout the entire concert about how I could sneak stuff in.  It was like a scab that I couldn’t stop picking at throughout the entire time I was there until the point that I went to get the cooler for our exodus. 

4.  Josh Kelly and Sister Hazel would have sounded a lot better after a few drinks.  Don’t get me wrong, they were very good but what doesn’t look, sound, taste, feel, smell better after you have had a couple of drinks?  (this last contention actually worried me about myself after I went back and read it…the fact that I didn’t change anything shows how much I give a damn.) 

Josh Kelly can not say “Arboretum”.  He kept calling it an Arbortorium.  He even confessed when doing a commercial for the “Morton Arboretum” at the beginning of his set that he was sorry for not being able to say the word Arboretum and went with “Arbortorium” another 3 or 4 times. 

Enough of this.  I have gone way too long.  Welcome to the last week of the summer month that is August.  Can’t wait for the 3 day weekend!

Filed under: Cops, In laws, beer, scared, weird, wife

Back in the Saddle again…

 

I’m BACK, baby!  Back from the wonderful island that is called Key West.  Actually, I have been back for a few days, but work is a beyotch and I missed a good chunk of business while I was gone, so I have been spending every single minute trying to get caught up. 

The trip was great.  I am going to preface the next story by saying that what I am about to write was discussed in great length with my wife while we are on the trip, so any of you reading this can stifle the thought of telling on me as you read it.

The general overall theme for the trip was Boobs.  Yep, I said it.  Boobs.  You see, I enjoy boobs.  But, this trip was filled with some good boobs and some very bad boobs.  I would say that it was 80 percent bad boobs and 20 percent good.  (19 of the 20percent being my wifes, of course!) I think at one point I told my wife that Key West should also be called “Boobs on Parade”.  I have never openly talked about Boobs before with my wife, but now that we spent a week in Key West I can openly discuss many things with her that I would have never prior to the trip.  We also decided that we are not nearly conservative enough to live in Key West.  Since it seems to be the Gay capital of the United States.  I would guestimate that the majority of the people that live on the island are gay.  Not that there is anything wrong with that, but upon our first dip in the ocean we were greeted by two extremely butch older women making out.  That was just the beginning of many a womanly makeout session that we saw over our trip.  I always thought two women together would be an extrememly hot thing, but they were not filming any of these encounters, that’s for damn sure.  The videos seen in the fraternity house during college do not nearly depict real life.  So, this blog has really started off right!  You couldn’t tell that I am an extremely Catholic and church going individual, could you.  I didn’t feel Catholic while I was down there.  I still feel dirty and Jeanne and I will end up having to spend a good 2-3 hours each with a Priest because of this trip. 

A few more funny items about Boobs and I will put it to bed already.  My favorite T-Shirt that was sold on Duvall Street had the following saying on it: 

“Please tell your boobs to stop staring at my eyes.”  CLASSIC.  I almost convinced Jeanne to let me buy that one. I had her about 90% there based on the fact that I promised to only wear it when we were together.  Then I dropped the ball when I said I would wear it to play pool in and then when I went out with my buddies in Chicago.  As a matter of fact, I would honestly wear that shirt everywhere because it was so damn funny.   Our beach was topless.  I saw some of the oldest, nastiest breasts that I had ever seen in my life.  Why is it that the people you don’t want to see take it off and the ones you don’t, do.  That is one of lifes great mysteries.  So, instead of the T-shirt mentioned above, I settled for two other funny ones. 

“I Pee In Pools!” and “The Liver is Evil and Must be Punished!”  I find much humor in those two t-shirts.  I was torn by a few others such as the t-shirt that had an arrow pointing up that said “The Man” and an arrow pointing down that said “The legend” and also the shirt that said “The Gun Show” with arrows pointing out to the arms.  They were all funny. 

While I was in Key West I watched some late night television and I came to a very sad realization.  I came across a show that was all about Hot dogs.  It took you inside a hot dog plant and showed how they were made.  That alone was enough to make me never want a Hot dog again, but what saddened me was that I realized that my parents never loved me the way I thought they had.  Because if they did, they would have never fed me uncooked hot dogs straight out of the package cold.  I am surprised that I never died as a child. 

What else was fun from our trip…let’s see.  We went to a bar called “The Bull”.  While at The Bull, we noticed many people going up a set of stairs to a Rooftop bar called “The Garden of Eden”.  Throughout the hour that we sat and drank, we noticed many men coming down with no shirts on.  Many drunk women came down as well, and it was topped off by two women coming down with no tops on, but flower petals painted on their breasts.  As the two drunk girls walked out onto the street, many people gathered around and asked to take photos.  They were happy to, and over the next 15 minutes it was like Mardis Gras.  Eventually, two cops came over and stood by us and watched.  I looked over to the younger police officer who was maybe 25.  I asked him, “Aren’t you going to arrest them for public indecency?” and the officer responded by smiling at me and said “It’s coverage”.  “We can’t do anything about it.”  My first response, was to say “No Shit?!” The officer proceeded to try and convince my wife why it is o.k. to look but not touch.  The first thought that went through my mind was that it was a good thing that the officer was in uniform, but Jeanne wouldn’t dare kill someone in uniform.  Had that statement come from my mouth I would be rattling off reasons why we shouldn’t get divorced.  After some heated debate between my wife and the officer, they choose to agree to disagree, and the conversation ended with Jeanne basically explaining to the officer that after only one year of marriage he may want to rethink his philosophy or else he might not get to experience many more years of marriage.  Wow. 

More funny stories to follow, I have to get back to task and make some money after the debt I have incurred from our vacation.

Filed under: Church, Cops, Pee, achy, beer, body, confused, free porn, fun, funny, romance, scared, sleepy, stripper, train wreck, weird, wife, work

You are the last dragon…

 

 Can I just say that the movie “The Last Dragon” is one of the greatest movies of all time.  I haven’t seen it in like 10 years, but I keep thinking back at that movie and I recognize something amazing in someone.  For those of you who have seen it, you will remeber “The Glow”. 

 

 (spoiler alrert!  the picture gives away the ending)  For those who have not, the entire movieline is based on a young martial artist who is trying to achieve “The Glow” or become a Master martial arts person.   Once he has mastered all there is, he could take on a “Bruce Lee like Glow”.  Or something like that.  So anyway, lately when I see someone who has truly mastered whatever it is that they are doing, I recognize that “Glow”.  It’s kind of weird.  I wonder when I glow.  Is it when I twist balloons?  When I am playing pool extraordinarily well?  When I exhibit love for my wife? 

When do you “Glow”?  That is a question that I think we should all ask ourselves.  Believe it or not, I think we all have something that we glow about without realizing it.  Sorry for the cheesyness but I can’t seem to get those thoughts out of my mind lately.

I have a sore tooth.  I have to chew out of the right side of my mouth.  I just know the tooth is going to completely crack while I am in Key West. 

Speaking about things I have not gotten done before the trip, I have a mole on my back that I planned on having removed.  It is too late now because it will not have time to heal before this Tuesday.  I tell Jeanne that it has become a part of me, and that it is not that bad.  Her response was one that I will never forget.  She told me a story about one time that I fell asleep on my stomach and my cat Mr. Wesgrs (don’t ask) started batting at it on my back and trying to play with it because he thought it was a bug.  I couldn’t help but break out in some serious laughter because it would not surprise me if this was true.  Actually, I know it’s true because you don’t just make shit like that up. 

One more random story and I will sign off for the weekend.  This morning on the radio, Eric and Kathy were doing a segment called “and then the police showed up”.  Callers were calling in to share stories about funny situation they were caught up in where the police came.  The best story won tickets to go see the Police this upcoming Thursday at Wrigley Field.  I know I lost a firm grip on my man card by admitting that I listen to Eric and Kathy in the mornings, but I think it is better than listening to the Teeny Bopper DJ’s in the morning that play rap music and cater to the preteens.  I think I have a good mix of listening.  Eric and Kathy in the morning for the humor factor to start my day.  Mac, Jurko & Harry on the way home for my Sports news info.  I trump the gayness of my mornings with the hardcore sports talk in the evening.  Or something like that. 

Anyway, this mornings segment reminded me of a hillarious story that I wanted to call in and share, but by the time it hit me, the bit was almost over.  When I was slinging Yellow Page advertising around I would spend my entire day in the car.  I would average around 100 miles a day in windshied time and because my territory wasn’t near my home (45-60 minute drive).  Sometimes there would be a two hour break inbetween appointments, so I became a car nap connoisseur.  There was nothing quite like blasting the AC on a hot summer day, tilting back the seat and dozing off.  I would typically listen to Kevin Matthews because I was as addicted to him on the radio as I have ever been to anyone until he left me for some radio station in Michigan.  On a side note, I can not count the number of times I would be woken up by someone knocking on my window asking me if I was “OK”.  I hated when this would happen, because it would usually interrupt a great nap.  I had several people say that they thought I died while the car was running.  Funny stuff.   So, on this particular day I had a gap between appointments and looked for the nearest large parking lot.  I found one that was down a grass hill from a building and pulled in.  I found a corner spot (better positioning so that cars can only park on one side of you to lessen the number of people that could potentially think you have died) and on this one day, I didn’t recline the seat back far at all.  I had my sunglasses on and proceeded to doze off.  I heard a knock on my window and looked up and it was a police officer looking in my car.  I immediately looked around and saw that my car had been blocked in my two squad cars to prevent any sort of escape.  I had 4 officers walking around my car staring in my windows and it was probably the worst awakening I have to date experienced in my life.  I rolled the window down and one of the officers asked me what I was doing there.  I proceeded to explain the “nap” thing and that my next appointment was at a location less than a block away.  They asked for my drivers license, insurance, and a “business card” to confirm my story.  It was at that moment that I looked up to see what building I was parked near, and it was a bank in Wheaton.  It all became clear to me what was going on at that moment.  I thought that the bank may have just been held up, but why would a robber go back to their car and take a nap?  The Narcoleptic bandit?  I don’t think so.  The police called my office to confirm I was an employee and they called the business that I had an appointment with to confirm that aspect of the story as well.  It all checked out.  After I was cleared, they explained to me that the bank that I was parked near had been knocked over 2 times in the last month by “The Wheaton Bandit”.  I apparently fit the description of what he might have looked like, so they thought I was scoping out my next heist.  Funny Shit.  I was told by the officers to never park in a Wheaton Bank parking lot again while I kill time becuase apparently the people in the bank were getting prepared for me to come in and rob them.  I wonder what they were doing.  I often wonder what types of steps they took after about 15 minutes when they saw that I was sitting there watching the bank, which I wasn’t, but I had sunglasses on, so they didn’t know I was dozing off.  That was definitely the most unusual situation I have ever been in involving the police, and I can easily say that not only did I not pull off in a bank parking lot to take a nap ever again, but I stayed the hell away from Wheaton, Illinois.  It is defintely a “no Illinois nap town”. 

Have a great pre Fourth of July weekend.  I am amidst a week of drunkeness.  Tue, Thur, Fri, and Sat are all days this week that have and will include drinking, so it is a good week.  I will catch up with you on Monday unless something nutty happens this weekend that prompts me to jump on. 

Filed under: Cats, Cops, Schief, The Glow, beer, billiard, confused, fun, grouchy, romance, train wreck, weird, wife, wikipedia