Trouble on the homefront

So, Michelle saw me sitting with my WangUS in a cup of ice. When we were trying to have kids, I was plagued by a low sperm count. The doctor thought that icing my testicles would help. Long story short when Michelle saw me sitting there in the oval office, with my pants around my knees, dipping my junk in a cup of ice, and immediately thought I wanted new bebes. Now, everyone knows that I don't think anyone should be cursed with bebe's. That's where I stand- on a firmly anti-bebe plank. That includes my own bebes.

Anyhow- when she moved in to consummate in the filthy, dirty ways that we are accustomed to (straight missionary, eyes closed, no more that 2.5 minutes, with plenty of crying afterwards), she noticed the stitches. She blamed Bill for some reason, and ran out. At least I think she blamed Bill, she said she had to find him "before the mood wore off" (whatever that means).

So she comes back 2 hours later. The walk must have relaxed her- she looked very serene. She started laughing and calling WangUS "FrankenWangUS". What does Al Franken have to do with this?

Economy update

I just wanted to drop everyone a little note. The economy is fine. It must be, because Michelle just spent five hundred forty dollars on new tennis shoes.

They are pretty cool. That would buy about three weeks groceries for a family of four. That could also pay for a months rent for a single mom. Or a a pair of tennis shoes.

The key here is, everything is all right. I enjoy four years of job security- hence the ridiculously expensive shoes, which look like 50.00 converse tennis shoes. This doesn't prove that we are out of touch, just that we don't care if you are suffering.

The day I met Michelle

I still remember the day. The skies were blue, the air was crisp, and I, future leader of the Free World was lonely. I had recently been dumped by Jane Fonda. Not the actress, Jane Fonda the community organizer. She was not as thin as the actress, who was still famous for the exercise videos at the time. She wasn't as pretty, or even as smart. Hell, She wasn't even as smart as Ted Turner, but she was still my little plain Jane. I truly loved her...

We broke up because she thought I wasn't ambitious enough. You see back then I knew my limitations, and would never recklessly campaign for a job I am unqualified for. She thought that I should apply for the CEO job at the company we worked for- I felt I was not qualified, being fresh out of college, and having no "c-suite" experience...

Anyway, I was walking down Division st., bouncing from bar to bar. I think I was coming from a bar that was called "The Rockery" (I remember the t-shirts with a pink logo- pastels were all the rage back then) and about to turn into "Mothers" when I saw her. Here hair was as big as the Goodyear blimp, she was wearing tight turquoise stirrup pants and a leopard skin shirt. Her 6 inch heels clacking against the cement. I knew then that I was in love...

I pursued her in to the bar (Dicks last resort), and started looking for her. I knew that this was my one shot at true love. I finally saw the stirrup pants and leopard skin shirt- I ran to her. My heart was beating, about to burst out of my chest, I ran through the bar knocking collegians out of my way. When I got to her, I closed my eyes, spun her around and kissed her. This was no peck on the cheek. As I felt her firm buttocks, her tongue danced in my mouth. I opened my eyes, and to my horror it was Tim Geithner. He looked at my shocked expression, and pointed to Michelle (who was on the dance floor) saying "you must be looking for her."

I composed myself and walked up to her; I had to be sure this time, so I grabbed her crotch. She was not pleased, and kneed me in the groin. Then she kicked me repeatedly. Then she tried to drive her heel into my eye socket- thank God the bouncer got there first.

Anyway, as the sex crimes unit started to book me- she wandered over with two burly Chicago Police officers. She leaned over me, and said "Before I press charges, I have to know how anyone could be SO stupid?" I then told her about Geithner- and she laughed. We finished our conversation over breakfast at the Egg Harbor Lounge.

It was truly a night to remember.

No tattoo...

Well, Michelle said no to the tattoo.



I had a great idea, I was going to get a tattoo that said "The Man", because, as you know, I am the man. Michelle said it was an insult, that there is nothing to admire about the man. That reminded me of that awful movie Undercover Brother, so I grudgingly agreed. I countered that I should instead get a tattoo based on the only good Saturday Night Live movie ever made- The Coneheads. At that point Michelle threatened to move back to Chicago. Worse yet, she threatened to leave her mother in DC.



Long story short, sadly, there is no tattoo in Barry O's future...