My Memorial Day post yesterday (link) talked about the subject of heroes behind the scenes; people who simply do the right thing, because it's the right thing to do.
But I have noticed it's getting harder and harder to be a good samaritan in this age. The need is out there, but you don't see people stepping up to the plate, rolling up their sleeves, and helping others nearly as much as you used to.
And I think I know why...
To show my point, I want to share two stories of me helping others. The first one happened while I was in college, the other happened this weekend.
Rewind back to the early 2000's. I was a sophomore in college and doing rather well for myself. I was on the Dean's List, was pretty well-known on campus, and life was good. One evening I was walking to the library for my normal study routine, when someone asked me for help. He told me he was new to the campus and was looking for the library. I offered to show him the way.
30 seconds later, I had a gun shoved into my gut. He threatened to shoot me if I made a sound, and demanded I hand over my backpack, wallet, phone, and anything else in my pockets. I was robbed, and lucky he didn't shoot me anyway (after all, I had a GOOD look at his face...). I was shaken to the core, and became fairly reclusive around strangers for a LONG time.
You read these types of stories in the papers fairly regularly. You see them on news reports. People take advantage of nice guys all the time. The words "I need your help" evoke a feeling in people that sometimes makes it hard to say no. Sadly, it leaves you vulnerable for attack.
Back to the present. This weekend I was out driving. It was raining pretty hard. An 8 year old comes up to me and asks "Hey mister, I need help. Can you possibly give my brother and I a ride home in the rain? We only live about a mile away..."
I say sure, and he signals to his brother (who, at this point, I couldn't see). Brother is about 20, and has a 60lb pitbull on a chain. I think it was going to be a couple of kids, but all of a sudden I'm taking home a ragged, pupils-dilated adult and his pet.
I try to assume the best in people, and still offer them all a ride home. But in the back of my head, I'm thinking exit strategy. What if he sics the dog on me? What if he has a gun? What if they try to take my car? My money? My life?
It was a quick drive, and none of the bad stuff happened, but the flashback of a gun knocking the wind out of me was enough to shake me up for a little bit.
I ended up doing my good deed for the day but almost drove off, leaving the kid and his sketchy brother in the rain. Not because I'm a bad person, but because there are bad people out there. One bad scenario like mine, and you get conditioned to be on the defensive. Was I quick to judge? Back in college, no. Now, yes. In both cases, expectation and result did not match.
I want to be a good samaritan. I like helping others who cannot help themselves. I like doing a good deed, just for the sake of doing it. The words "thank you" are the most precious gift I have ever received, and will ever receive.
But at what point do your defenses go back down? I don't know.
This week's prompt at Studio 30 Plus is "Heroism," and what a perfect day to do this. Today the US celebrates Memorial Day, where we remember and honor our fallen heroes.
I read an Associated Press article Sunday which said a recent study found 8 out of 10 people don't understand the true meaning of Memorial Day. For those in the 80%, please click this link to learn.
Today is a day to honor fallen heroes, but I would like to spend some time talking about the heroes that are still with us.
And to share something not a lot of people know about me: I was once called a hero.
I started working at a call center as a 411 operator in 2000. It was a boring job, but it was a job. I'd be on the phone for 8 hours, saying "City and State, please" about 125-175 times an hour, until my ears bled. I didn't like the job, but I was good at it, so I was there for a couple of years.
Fast forward a bit, to September 11, 2001. I had been married for 2 weeks, and my wife and I were freshly back from our honeymoon. Today was my 2nd or 3rd day back at work. I woke up, drove to work, and came in to absolute chaos. I learned about the Twin Towers attack once I got there, and most 911 services in the Manhattan area were flooded. People who couldn't get through with 911 called 411.
It was going to be a long day. Turned out to be a 36 hour day. When in crisis mode, you forget about time, and a lot of people stayed and worked extra shifts until the panic subsided. During that shift, I helped countless firemen and policemen, disaster units, EMTs and normal citizens. One fire chief from Massachusetts had me on the phone for over 2 hours, making sure he could route his brigade through Manhattan (we had maps showing traffic, closures, etc. this was before GPS).
After I finally went home, I slept for days. Call traffic dwindled back down to normal after time, and in November we received a 'thank you' letter from rescuers. I was one of three mentioned by name, and called a hero for my efforts. I will remember that day, and that letter for the rest of my life.
I'm not saying this to stroke my ego, or to get my 15 minutes of fame. I'm merely illustrating the heroes that work behind the scenes every day in times of need. There are heroes right now in Joplin, Mo. There are heroes in northeast Idaho and in Montana, helping homes and families with flood damage.
More importantly, there are heroes like Policemen, Firemen, Teachers, Doctors and volunteers. There are heroes that put others before themselves on a daily basis.
To you, and to all other heroes out there: Thank you. Happy Memorial Day.
Everything is better when it's excellent, isn't it?
I work for a non-profit agency. They're not happy with being just another non-profit. They are working on becoming an "Agency of Excellence."
Apparently you can do that. It requires years of policy updates, performance reviews, and hoops after hoops to jump through.
My agency has been trying for this "of excellence" title for about 4 years now. This week, an official 'excellence' review team came in, reviewed our policies, and made suggestions on how to become more excellent.
(Can you tell how much I like this word? Excellent? I'm not sure if I want to say it a-la-Spicoli, Wayne's World, or Bill & Ted. While similar, they are all excellent in their own special ways. But I digress...)
To improve our excellence rating, signs have been going up throughout our office. Most are framed motivational posters with "Perseverance" and "Focus" messages. Cheesy, yes, but apparently they motivate us. Go fig.
I'd like to share 2 of the more unconventional signs that have popped up. Both are in the restrooms.
First is a "how to change a roll of toilet paper" sign. It reads as follows: (my retorts are in red)
Bathroom Skills for the Workplace
Your mother doesn't work here....
You are responsible to change the roll yourself when you use the last squares.
When the roll is empty... squeeze the silver holder together (on the end of the roll away from the middle).
Swing the end piece out.
Remove empty roll. (um, duh?)
Replace roll. (oh sheesh, really?)
Swing end piece back in place until it snap in place (Grammar are good!)
Smile and realize that you have done your bit for society and a happy workplace.
It makes me a little sad that people need to be told these things, but there is a similar "clean up your messes" sign in the break room. Some people don't know how to clean up after themselves??
Next is a most excellent sign, found on the men's urinal.
You need to read it to believe it...
"Help Prevent Spillage by getting a little closer. (...you're not as blessed as you think...)"
Now, is someone peeping at my tater-tot, or is that just a general assumption??
Either way, it's both offensive and hilarious. Therefore, excellent.
Are there any funny, pointless, or just plain ridiculous signs at your place of business? If so, please share here. My workplace can't be the only "Workplace of *cough* excellence" out there.
Not familiar with The Real Blogger Shore's Amazing Undercover Idol? Visit Q's site (link) for links to all the posts, as well as the main wrap-up story.
This is going to be a short and sweet coda to the symphony that was this unrealistic reality show. I'm supposed to give a Springer-esque 'final thought' to you, the audience, and to do one more post about this concept, in hopes that a TV exec is tuning in (let's do lunch).
So here we go. Buckle your seatbelts and put trays in an upright and secured position.
Late last year, I moved from California to Idaho (link). Goodbye hustle, goodbye bustle. Hello to a slower lifestyle. It was a major shift for me, and took a lot of getting used to.
But I got used to it. After spending time in a mansion with this gaggle of freaks, I miss it.
Granted, we had a lot of fun. I saw more painted-on boobs than you'd find in a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. I singlehandedly took down a five-foot-forty lumberjack of a man. I even had a chance to spike a batch of brownies with salvia (legal, yes. But oooh what a trip) before I left, and had the pleasure of witnessing its effects while stone-cold sober (haha, guys... I HAVE VIDEO!!).
Recently I have felt like super blogger man. I am averaging about 300 page views daily now, which feels monumental. My follower list keeps growing, my viewership is rising, and I consistently get a good amount of comments from my readers.
(Although, it seems like I get more comments when I post more controversial topics. Maybe a little more pot-stirring in the near future?)
I am happy with my stats. I started blogging in late January, and hit 25k viewers this morning. My stats tell me I'm averaging about 8,000 viewers over a 30 day period now, and that average increases by about 50 a day.
Yes, I am finally feeling like a 'big boy.'
And then, I found a way to burst my own bubble.
I was on a blog that I follow almost every day. I'm not going to name her, because I don't want to come across as resentful. (I don't think she reads my lil blog anyway, so meh...) I came across her page for people who want to advertise on her blog, and she starts rattling off stats.
She gets about 400k viewers a month. That equates to over 13k a day. She gets more people looking at her blog in a day than I do in a month.
Instant deflation of erection. I think it may have even turtled...
Granted, she's been doing it for years. She is an amazing writer. She hosts multiple sites. She is, quite literally, an internet rockstar.
And I want that.
one day, I will wear this shirt with pride...
I am happy with where I am so far. With the right SEO, and with the right motivation, I will grow into a beast of a blogger. And that's the plan. I want to have 1,000's of people reading what I have to say. I'm an entertainer, and I love to entertain. Those 580+ following me right now are following me for a reason (I hope).
For those 'heavy hitters' out there that read my blog, are there any tips you can give me? This is where I open myself up for criticism.
What am I doing right?
What am I doing wrong?
What can I do better?
What will help keep me growing?
This post is like a report card. A performance review. And all of you are the teachers.
Critique me. Let me know what you do (and do not) like. Help me.
No, I'm not talking about cute storybook spiders (even though, as a parent, I LOOOVE this book...) I'm talking about the big hairy scary spiders. The ones you see on the floor, or in the garage and go "ROMG IT'S AS BIG AS MY CAT!
Today I'm going to talk about a spider local to the Idaho area. They're big, they're hairy, and they creep me the fuck out.
I'm talking about HOBO SPIDERS.
According to wikipedia, they can get to be about an inch long. It doesn't seem like a lot, but when you see one in front of you, they're pretty damn intimidating.
A few days ago, I hop out of the shower, towel myself off, and go about my evening. About 3 minutes later my girlfriend enters the bathroom. She immediately calls me back...
"How's your foot?" she asks... Feels ok to me, why?
"Well, you stepped on a Hobo spider and killed it. I'm hoping it didn't bite you."
Spiders have always creeped me out, but after one quick google search on 'Hobo spider bites' made my heart drop.
They're not deadly, but are still poisonous. As hobospider.com puts it:
"Very often, for the first 24 hours, the bite appears to be no worse than that of a mosquito; then it begins to blister in the center. Within 24 to 36 hours the blister breaks open, leaving an open, oozing ulceration. This ulceration 'scabs' over within three weeks from the initial bite, leaving a permanent scar. If the bite is delivered in fatty tissue, the lesion may be very deep and extensive, not healing for over two or three years. Systemic reactions to Hobo Spider poisoning include severe headaches, nausea, vomiting, soreness and flu-like symptoms. In extreme cases where the bite was not taken care of early, skin graft, amputation, and the possibility of bone marrow failure may occur."
Extreme cases, ok. I understand that, but my paranoia does not. I had nightmares that night about my foot falling off, and becoming the first Idahoan pegleg pirate.
yarrr
I'm not ready to swash my buckles. I'm not ready for my timbers to be shivered. I like rum, but that's about as far as I go.
Luckily this was all about 2 weeks ago. Every tingle and twinge in my foot spooked me for a while, but I think it's safe to say that I walked away unharmed.
...but it's funny. Ever since then, if I feel a tickle or anything out of the ordinary when I'm in bed, I jump. My brain instantly goes to "OH NOES! TEH HOBOS ARE GONNA GET MEE!" I'm not sure why, and I hope it goes away soon, but fmeh.
On the bright side: If my leg *did* fall off, I could be ogled at by the Amputee Fetishists who keep finding my site via google (thanks to this post).
I recently joined Studio 30 Plus and am attempting my first writing prompt. This week's theme is Hotel Stories, and it was just too juicy to pass up. This has nothing to do with Idaho, so take it as you like.
My girlfriend and I were just starting the 'hot and heavy' phase of our relationship (we were friends long before) and I booked a romantic weekend getaway in Salt Lake City.
Ok, stop laughing. Romantic and SLC don't exactly mesh, but I was living in Cali and she lived in Idaho. It was a middle ground. Easy flight for me, easy drive for her.
I booked the nicest suite at a good hotel, and were happy to finally get into our room (and back into each others, er, arms).
I'll be honest, it took us a while before we actually found the bed. When we finally did, we noticed something unique. It was a Sleep Number Bed! Neither one of us had ever been on one before, so it felt like a fun new toy for us.
I never slept in a bed that came with an instruction manual. After reading the basics, we picked our sides, and started playing with the firmness/softness. We wanted to see what numbers we were, and if we were compatible in that way too.
"WRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
Holy crap, this was a loud bed...
And it didn't really seem to work all too well. I couldn't feel too much of a difference between a 90 and a 15. Maybe it was just old and worn out? I dunno.
We finally gave up on playing with the bed, and enjoyed a nice 3-day weekend together. We left the hotel room maybe 2 times in total (a good weekend indeed...). By the last night, we were both exhausted and content. She was sound asleep, and I was drifting off when I heard a familiar sound...
"WRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
This wasn't coming from our bed....
"WRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
This was on the other side of the wall...
"WRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
Those damn beds are so loud we could hear our neighbor playing with their bed. Luckily that was all you were able to hear.
When I look back at the beginning of our relationship, I always look at our Salt Lake Trip and smile. Sadly, the thing I remember most about that weekend wasn't the romance. It was the bed. (WRRRRRRRR...)
Short post, but I have to share this...
_____________________________________________________________
6:35 - Girlfriend and I decide we're hungry, and neither one of us feel like cooking.
"What sounds good?"
"I dunno, pizza?"
"OK."
6:40 - I go online, and place the order. Large Pepperoni Pizza Feast, some Cheesy bread, 1 marinara dipping sauce (for her), 1 garlic dipping sauce (for me), and hit "Place Order." Total is $19 and change, and it'll be here in about 25 minutes.
6:44 - Her and I become amused by the Domino's "Pizza Tracker" on their site. Eric P is prepping our pizza within seconds... Did you know you can post it to your Facebook? Gf knows now, and knows not to let me play around on her laptop (hehehe...)
7:05 - *knock knock* It's the pizza dude. I pay him, give a decent tip, and send him on our way.
7:06 - I notice something's missing. My garlic sauce. Cost an extra 50 cents, no big deal, but still...
7:25 - I start thinking 'hmmmm... how do I leave feedback? I don't want to make the driver come all the way back for just sauce, but I feel like letting them know...'
7:30 - I find a way to leave feedback on Domino's website. I let them know. I don't rant or gripe, just let them know their attention to detail was a little off, and I paid for something I didn't get.
7:40 - I get an email back from a Domino's rep (copy/pasted below)
May 23, 2011
Dominos Case #: xxxx
Brandon,
On behalf of Domino’s Pizza I am really sorry your Domino’s experience was less than great. We appreciate you contacting us and giving us the opportunity to fix the situation.
The Idaho Falls location where you ordered is locally owned, so my first step is to report your concern to the owner, Wesley Wood. This will give them or a representative from their office the opportunity to hear your feedback firsthand, and do what it takes to keep you as a loyal customer.
Your feedback is a gift and we appreciate you contacting us. Once again, I am really sorry that we let you down. If you do not hear from the local owner in 3 days, please contact us again so that we can make sure you are taken care of.
Most sincerely,
Cleopatra
Domino's Pizza Customer Care
Wow, more than I expected, and from an Egyptian ruler no less. Domino's pulled out all the stops for one minor issue...
7:43 - My phone rings. It's the manager of the store, apologizing for the mixup. I tell him it's not a big thing, I just wanted to let them know. I like to give feedback when good or bad, so businesses can improve on the right things, and fix the wrong things.
He's not done. I have two options:
He can tell them to remake the order, and I'll get one more pizza, more breadsticks, and a crapton of dipping sauces, or
I can get a $10 discount on my next order
I'm full, and we both have enough left over for lunch tomorrow. I chose door number 2.
So for a 50 cent mixup, I got $10 off my next order.
I'm not sure if this is great customer service, or just completely ridiculous. Sure, if you completely messed up my order, I'd expect something like this... but for one container of dipping sauce? And even when I say it wasn't a major issue?
They were never going to lose my business over something so minor. But now, after this, I think I love them.... I mean, from ordering to delivery to "complaint" to resolution, all in under an hour?
In mid-February, I took my camera and walked around my new hometown, taking some interesting photography. (link) I was happy with the results, but looking forward to spring.
Well, 3 months later, I can finally say that Spring has arrived in Eastern Idaho. In May. Late May. Sheesh...
I'm still not used to this '4 seasons' BS. In California you'd have Summer and Fall, that's about it. Summer would be March thru mid-October, then fall from about Halloween to Valentine's day. The remaining 3-4 weeks is just 'meh' weather.
Not in Idaho. The seasons are distinct. It takes a little bit of getting used to.
Anyway, I spent Sunday afternoon walking around the Snake River. Home to where Idaho Falls gets its name (from the falls, get it? I know, how clever of them...).
See the mormon temple in the background? I'm convinced they do that on purpose. You find the most picturesque shot to take, and boom, there it is in the center of the picture. Granted, it's really far away, but still somewhat distinct. This way, it's in as many "Hi from Idaho Falls" postcards as possible.
Smart marketing. Very business-savvy, for a church...
There is a pathway you can walk that takes you on a 3ish mile loop from one side of the river to the other, and back around again. I took a stroll and decided to take in the spring weather while it lasts.
Oh yeah, another thing about Eastern Idaho. Apparently it reserves the right to regress into winter whenever it sees fit. It could be June and still snowing from time to time... (wtf???)
As you can see from the before/after shots, the river is much more fun to look at in the spring. Granted, seeing a massive body of water completely freeze over is pretty cool, but I prefer the sound of rushing, crashing water.
It's almost inspiring enough to consider trying river rafting sometime this summer. I wonder if I could cut it? Or am I too much of a city boy? We will see.
Walking around, I noticed a lot of signs and touristy crap, telling people about the Oregon Trail, various indigenous wildlife, as well as the different trees planted in this area. One of my favorites, by far, was the elusive 'invisible maple' tree...
Its fruit, if you can find any, is the sweetest you'll ever taste. Well, half of it anyway. The other half is poison. The funny thing is they both look exactly the same. Good luck in your choice...
For a day that started off so crummy (link) I'm glad my Sunday ended on a nice, relaxing note. Happy Monday!
Have you ever felt like it's you vs the world? Well, I'm having those feelings right now. So I'm just gonna bow out, and wait for Monday to come.
I had trouble falling asleep last night, and am groggy this morning. So far today, I've pulled a muscle at the gym, had to yell at the photo guys at Walgreens for giving me the wrong photos (some ugly couple's wedding, instead of our pictures), and almost got sideswiped by a mommy in a minivan who ran a red light because she was fighting with her kids.
I know the Rapture didn't happen yesterday, but it seems like someone somewhere is damn-well determined to make sure I feel like hell today. So I'm just gonna stay inside for the rest of the day and do absolutely nothing.
If you need me, I'll either be watching Doctor Who, or playing some sort of RPG on my Wii.
Let me know who's still around by leaving me a comment, mmmk?
Here are some pictures found on the internet... Nobody I knew was raptured, except maybe a neighbor's cat...
Facebook Status: "BRB..."
Ugly tie, but at least he won't be needing it anymore.
What a way to, erm, go.
Poor guy. That's what he gets for sleeping in instead of
going to church with his family.
Edit: Just found this image on iheartchaos.com. As you know, the Macho Man Randy Savage died yesterday. Some say it was a heart attack, but I see it as his grand plan to prevent the 2011 Rapture...
My wonderful girlfriend received some free movie tickets to go see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, so we and her coworkers went to see the premiere.
Honestly, the movie itself wasn't so bad. Solid 7 out of 10, I'd say.
But my problem isn't with the movie itself... it was with the event as a whole.
Being a premiere, it was packed. We were toward the front of the line, so the crowding wasn't so bad. But before the premieres started, the theater manager had to come in, announce "saving seats is not allowed" and went over the rules of the theater before she'd leave us alone. Best of all, it was done entirely via megaphone, about 6 feet from my face.
I wanted to 'boo' her.
Next up were the previews. There are a few good summer flicks coming out, but some of the premiers bothered me.
First up was the movie-rendition of Rock'em Sock'em Robots. I kid you not. Watch the vid...
I used to play boxing robots when I was a kid. But not once did I say "hey, you know what? This would make a kickass movie!" Hugh Jackman, whatever they paid you for this, it wasn't enough.
Next was the token goofball comedy: Zookeeper...
Paul Blart: Mall Cop meets Dr. Doolittle in this zany comedy of a dimwitted, unattractive zookeeper trying to win a shallow supermodel's love. The sad thing is... people will pay to see this. A lot of people...
Ok, enough of the previews. The movie starts, and it's the normal Pirates style. Jack Sparrow has some zany misadventures, almost dies yet narrowly escapes, and then the true adventure can start. Dun dun dun!!!
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA....."
Um, what?
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA....."
Yes folks, there's a baby in the theater. And no, mommy isn't leaving with the baby... she'd miss the movie!! Instead, she tries to shoosh him for a good 5 minutes before finally giving up, and exiting the theater.
But wait....
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA....."
Not another one...
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA....."
Yep. One in the back, one in the front. Luckily this mommy got the hint faster.
Lucky for her, too. If she were any closer, or took any longer, I would have hucked a gummy worm at her. I mean, who brings a baby to a loud PG-13 movie theater on opening day? Either find a babysitter or come another time. Disrupting a crowd of 250+ because of your own selfishness is just plain rude.
The rest of the movie played on, the ending was predictable, humorous, and left enough open for yet another sequel. The movie itself was decent, but the environment kind of got on my nerves.
After the movie was done, the group wanted to stay together and hang for a bit. In the same mini-mall area is a self-serve Frogurt place a-la-pinkberry, but a little different. It's called Orange Leaf (see what they did there?) and it was packed.
Packed with teens.
Prom teens.
Kinda slutty-ish prom teens. I don't remember the girls at my prom looking this trashy, and we were in the ghetto. Trashy was our middle name.
Nope, here in mormon-ville, this is the one time girls can look as trashy as they want and it's ok. Short poofy skirts were a-plenty. One girl's dress was so short I could tell you what type of underwear she had on. The bad thing is I could probably get arrested if I told you...
The favorite out of the slutty prom crew was this blonde in the red dress. Our group all decided that she did her hair in the 'messy look' so mommy and daddy wouldn't be able to tell if she rolled out of her date's back seat or not.
Or maybe she just did, and her hair was perfect about a half hour ago... who knows?
At least the night ended with some amusement. And a great idea. They have these little juice-filled boba balls you can add to your yogurt. I'm going to make an alcoholic version of it, open up an 'adult' pinkberry and just call it "Drunk-Ass Yogurt." Come on in, and eat your way to a good buzz!
What do you think? Would you like booze for dessert? Sounds tempting, doesn't it??
I was reading a post last month over at Sex N Fries about these people, and I instantly had a new favorite fetish.
what a, erm, pair...
I'm talking about people who incorporate balloons into the bedroom. Looners, as they like to be called, use balloons in various forms of coitus. For example, using it as something to prop your partner on top of...
According to wikipedia as well as loonervision (warning, NSFW), the thrill of balloons can come in different ways. Some people live for the 'pop' while others love the sounds the balloons make when rubbing up against other objects.
The 'poppers' like to inflate the balloon until it pops, or use a sexy object to pop the balloon during points of the sexual experience. Stiletto heels, their lover, or just a needle can be used to pop the object. Just as long as it's done in an erotic manner. Non-poppers, however, keep the balloon inflated at all times during sex, and use it more as an environmental prop instead of directly involved in the act.
Wikipedia also mentions that most fetishes have a basis in phobias. Psychologists have done some minor research in fetishes to see if they spawn from childhood fears. For example, with Looners, the sound of a balloon's explosion may spark a sort of 'fight-or-flight' mentality, and that adrenaline rush is now seized as an orgasmic enhancement.
All I know is this: If I'm in the bedroom with my girl, and I pop a balloon in her face when she's close to climax, I'm getting my ass kicked. And I probably won't be getting any for a while...
Source: Loonervision
There may be benefits to using large inflatables like Yoga Balls or wedges in the bedroom (angles and such...) but balloons by themselves don't really do it for me. Maybe if I were a part-time circus clown, things would be different.
I'd like to consider myself to be pretty open and adventurous when it comes to trying out new things, but I'm not getting a sexy vibe from balloons. Roleplay? Sure. A little S&M? When done right... Balloon animals? Doesn't seem like the time or the place. I understand the feeling of the rush people get when they hear the explosion, but there are other ways to get that same adrenaline kick. Public places, for example...
What say you, oh peanut gallery? While this subject fascinates me (from an outside perspective) I just don't see the sexual draw to this. Do any of you see this as remotely sexy? Do you like adding an adrenaline rush into your sexual escapades? If so, how? I always love hearing from you.
In the meantime, please enjoy this video from Durex condoms. While not incredibly sexy, it's still a damn funny vid to watch. PLUS it's full of 'sexy' balloon sounds...
I overheard two guys talking about the 2012 presidential election, and who they were hoping was going to be the Republican primary contender...
One wanted trump.
The other wanted Mike Huckabee.
hehehe....
I interjected, and pointed out to the gentleman that both of their choices have bowed out in recent days, saying they had no intention in running for president.
Their response? "Well I don't care WHO it is, as long as it's not Obama!"
Wow people, really?
This type of political ignorance drives me crazy. People who vote along party lines, no matter who the candidate is. If you're a Democrat, you're only allowed to vote Democrat. Even when you have a schlub canidate like Michael Dukakis... Or Republicans only voting red, even when Bob Dole is the voice of your party.
I'm sorry, but I refrain from casting my vote until I look at the people running. I want to know where they stand, what they believe in, and what they want to do in office before I vote A vs B.
So far, looking at the Republican side of things, I'm not too impressed with the choices. The only one I think stands a chance of unifying the country and getting support from both sides would be Gary Johnson, former governor of New Mexico. He has no problem calling out BS, even from his own party. Reading about him, I agree with a decent amount of issues he brings up. And, unlike Trump, GJ has succeeded in business without hitting the "BK" button over and over.
But, for now, it's too early to tell. Sadly, people like the two stooges mentioned above don't care. If you put a Butterball Turkey against Obama right now, and like the Turkey as a Republican, I'm afraid it would get at least 20%-30% of the vote.
Back to a phrase I used: unifying the country and getting support from both sides.This is what I want to see in a candidate, whether it be an R or a D after his name. Why? We have been at a 50/50 split since the 2000 election. This country is divided, and in a bad bad way. I'm hoping to see this change, and soon. The battle of "Dems vs Repubs: We Are Right (and you are not)" is getting old.
Oh well. The BS is the same for both sides. About 25% will always vote red, and 25% will always vote blue. Let's just hope the remaining 50% (the smart ones) make the right decision in 2012, whatever that may be.
