Sunday, May 22, 2011

I heart Kyle...and Jon Bon

I’m sitting back recovering from a night at Mayfest (the first street festival of the summer), and my ears are still ringing. To some, it was the end of the world. To my friends and I, it was a night well spent with 90’s hip hop and 80’s hair metal. Yep, the cover bands “Two White Crew” and “Hairbangers Ball” performed last night. TWC has fly girls and a rapping drummer. Hairbangers…well they were Hairbangers (and they rocked).
We were denied Warrior requests, but the ample beer made the world right again. That and the balloon we messed with (every years needs a party balloon).

I still don't understand certain parenting skills. This is the second year in a row I have seen a child at Hairbangers...without ear protection and well beyond bedtime.

Oh and you know it was a good night when the monkey hat comes out.

I’m using my recovery to watch the Bulls play on TV. I scored two tickets from the boss during the regular season. They were row five and $140 apiece. Dang! They were also right by the team tunnel, so you could lean over and slap hands with the players when they left and returned from halftime. Ever since that game, I have been infatuated with Kyle Korver (aka hot sauce…for some reason). He is a crack three point shot, 6’-7”, skinny, from Iowa, and a total babe. Don’t worry, Jewed Law has given me a free pass in the chance I ever meet and woo Kyle. We call it even when he lands a Love-a-bull dancer. Those girls are so top heavy, the fashion industry is in danger of a sequin shortage.

Post Script: when I was uploading these photos to facebook, the program has this face recognizer thingy that prompts you to tag your friends. Well I found it funny they wanted me to tag Jensen's t-shirt.

Now make me a sandwich!

It has been a significant drought my writing and posting. Call it my winter funk. I haven’t been exercising my mind…or body. I joke about my Tyrannosaurus Rex build. Nice solid legs with tiny insignificant arms.
Well I was walking a construction site carrying a roll of drawings of approximately 3lbs in weight. I cradled them in my left arm so I could write on them with my right. After about an hour, my bicep started to seize up. I had to run over to a sawhorse and drop the drawings. The funny sight was seeing a couple of burly construction workers carrying cast iron pipe (weighing in at ten pounds a foot) no sweat while I was massaging my arm whimpering “owie owie owie”. Well the drawings were on the heavy side of 3lbs.
Maybe you could blame the muscle fatigue on old age. My 32nd birthday came and went, and I am rolling my eyes more and more at young’ins. A friend Bob-o just had a 30th birthday at a Lincoln Park bar. It was fun to get all dressed up to hit the scene, but I should have known better venturing into college territory. When did everyone start dressing like cast offs from Jersey Shore? Seriously, I thought slutty back in my college days was a bare shoulder or maybe a visible bra strap. Now the girls are wearing strapless skin-tight short dresses with the same amount of material used in an ace bandage. Okay, now I really sound like the cranky old men from the Muppet show. I’ll just get back to my wheel of fortune marathon.