The Fazzolari Ball
I saw a shot of Obama and Michelle at the big gala and it got me thinking:
First off, doesn't anyone temper the president's remarks?
If so, someone should have mentioned to him that saying that he "liked the first lady's bangs," could have been construed to have a different meaning in the mind of a warped blog-writer.
Secondly, can you imagine the festivities if I were ever sworn in at anything?
The president looked gracious. He was dressed to the nines. Nary a mustard stain. He extended his hand to his wife and she demurely reached out to grab his. Elegantly they danced with all the moves deftly performed.
Cut to Cliff and Kathy at their ball.
And here's the first lady in her brown sweat pants from Target. She's wearing a matching brown top with a hood that is attached but rarely used.
The president is wearing a Yankee t-shirt with the name Ruth on the back and the number three below. The president, of course is a fan of the 27-Time, World Champion, Greatest Franchise in the History of Sports. The bright yellow stain on the top of the Y in the interlocking NY is mustard. Weber's Mustard.
Once our descriptions are out of the way we could hit the dance floor, of course.
The first lady was a dancer back some time ago and is capable of keeping time to the music, which is more than what we can say about the president. However, the first lady has quite a bit of trouble on her feet these days as years of hard work have rendered her nearly incapable of anything more than a tortoise-like movement.
And here comes the president. He was never great on his feet, of course, but the Jerry Lewis-like moves that he makes on the dance floor usually bring people to tears - with laughter. The president likes to loudly sing along with the music, yelling to everyone to 'Listen to the Words!'
Once the dance is over, of course, we need to make our way to the table to eat the big meal.
The first lady appears to be looking for chicken of some sort. She leans in to ask the waiter if there are chips and dip on the menu. She barely picks at anything, and actually throws a broccoli spear to the ground and grinds it under her sneaker heal.
AND MY OH MY, look at the president go! This has to be a record for the most food consumed at this blessed event. It's either Fazzolari or Taft! This is going to be a fun four years.
The after-dinner party would, of course, be cut real short.
The president and first lady have left the hall. She was muttering something about 48 Hours and the president, while putting in a dip of copenhagen said that he had to see 'a man about a horse'.
First off, doesn't anyone temper the president's remarks?
If so, someone should have mentioned to him that saying that he "liked the first lady's bangs," could have been construed to have a different meaning in the mind of a warped blog-writer.
Secondly, can you imagine the festivities if I were ever sworn in at anything?
The president looked gracious. He was dressed to the nines. Nary a mustard stain. He extended his hand to his wife and she demurely reached out to grab his. Elegantly they danced with all the moves deftly performed.
Cut to Cliff and Kathy at their ball.
And here's the first lady in her brown sweat pants from Target. She's wearing a matching brown top with a hood that is attached but rarely used.
The president is wearing a Yankee t-shirt with the name Ruth on the back and the number three below. The president, of course is a fan of the 27-Time, World Champion, Greatest Franchise in the History of Sports. The bright yellow stain on the top of the Y in the interlocking NY is mustard. Weber's Mustard.
Once our descriptions are out of the way we could hit the dance floor, of course.
The first lady was a dancer back some time ago and is capable of keeping time to the music, which is more than what we can say about the president. However, the first lady has quite a bit of trouble on her feet these days as years of hard work have rendered her nearly incapable of anything more than a tortoise-like movement.
And here comes the president. He was never great on his feet, of course, but the Jerry Lewis-like moves that he makes on the dance floor usually bring people to tears - with laughter. The president likes to loudly sing along with the music, yelling to everyone to 'Listen to the Words!'
Once the dance is over, of course, we need to make our way to the table to eat the big meal.
The first lady appears to be looking for chicken of some sort. She leans in to ask the waiter if there are chips and dip on the menu. She barely picks at anything, and actually throws a broccoli spear to the ground and grinds it under her sneaker heal.
AND MY OH MY, look at the president go! This has to be a record for the most food consumed at this blessed event. It's either Fazzolari or Taft! This is going to be a fun four years.
The after-dinner party would, of course, be cut real short.
The president and first lady have left the hall. She was muttering something about 48 Hours and the president, while putting in a dip of copenhagen said that he had to see 'a man about a horse'.
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