This week at Heroes. . .

Nothing new from the Herald today, except that I was mistaken-Julian Jumpin' Perez's show at Bedrocks isn't until next weekend. You have another week to claim your seats!


Another Thursday night at Heroes, but this week a new and exciting twist was added to the usual fun. Usually the ID check at Heroes is pretty lenient, and if you go there often, you don't need to show your ID. However, recent developments (barroom brawls, according to Shannon Murphy's friend) have forced the hardworking Heroes staff to crack down. They now have a little scanner that they swipe ID's through to check authenticity. Here's where it gets exciting: when they swipe the ID's, the images are projected on one of the TV's in the bar. Naturally my friends and I staked out a spot near the "ID TV" so we could get the full effect, and learned way more than we needed to about our fellow bar goers (natural hair colors, last names, etc.), and checked out who was coming and going. It seems a little cruel to project people's weights on a tv for everyone to see, but I guess they have to crack down.


The matching hoochies were not out tonight, however another pair of similarily dressed girls made up for it. I personally have always taken the term underwear literally to mean "underneath your clothes" (by the way, there was a girl with bigass Shakira hair), but these girls seem to have taken it to mean "under where?" Put those rhinestone thongs away, girls, before someone gets hurt! I also noticed some people, including a miniature Nick Stahl lookalike, participating in what I like to call a "Humpin' Train." Basically this consists of a few people, usually girl/guy/girl or guy/girl/guy, getting in a line and grindingon each other. This is something I try to stay away from, especially after a trip to Zero Gravity with Melissa and Jennifer a few years back, in which after one guy started dancing behind Jen, another started dancing behind me and instructed me to get behind Jen's partner by saying in a scary, possessed sounding voice, "Get behind him!"


The ass trilogy was back in effect, this week adding "Rump Shaker" to the mix. Chuckie the bootie lovin' bouncer did an admirable job puttin' the smack down, so to speak, but could not participate in his flashlight antics due to dead batteries. I also spotted a couple of cowboys, but could not get up the nerve to get them to do the Boot Scootin' Boogie. Reader Kelly from Plainfield has told me that she observed some interesting bathroom antics last night (possibly of the two girls, one stall variety), so those should be up shortly.


In other news, Melanie, my mom and I witnessed quite the spectacle on Channel 6 (public access) last night. It was some kind of African American beauty pageant, and while I at first thought it was the recent "Little Miss Black Joliet" pageant, we quickly realized that these girls were a bit older. We were lucky enough to catch the sportswear/casual wear portion of the pageant, but the outfits seemed more appropriate for the stage of Crazy Rock, or perhaps Miss Camille's (fine, it's a "variety club," not a strip club, but the name sure sounds adult oriented). One girl was dressed in a Superwoman costume with her booty hanging out, another wore a dress that was supposed to be a million dollar bill and strutted around to "It's All About the Benjamins," and another wearing a tropical outfit danced to "It Wasn't Me" while a guy laid underneath her on the floor. There was also a Missy Elliot-esque girl dressed as a pimp. I have no idea what this pageant was rewarding, but unfortunately Joliet's hat-loving answer to Oprah, Diana Stonitsch, was not on the scene. I'm sure it'll be airing all weekend, so be sure to check it out.


Finally, does anyone have a favorite Whiskey Tango bumper sticker? Let me know and I'll make a list. My personal favorite, seen on Glenwood a couple months ago, is (and yes, this is how it's punctuated): "Move Over! Kid's Gotta Pee!"

Breakdancers, Bedrocks, Bugs & Boobs

Overheard at Hooters last night: "It smells fishy around here"-one of the waitresses behind the counter to another waitress.

While the police blotter contained little of merit today, the "Your Life" section of the Herald News contained an interesting article entitled "Sidewalk Show". Apparently when the Joliet Jackhammers' season begins, the streets of downtown Joliet will be blessed with the presence of various street performers. Melanie, I think this sounds like an opportunity for your brother to hit it big, maybe with a solo glow stick act. Anyway, one of the performing groups is the B Boys Break Dancers, a local group of poplocking teens that includes Mike Medina, 18, who states, "I got a nickname--Plastic Man. I'm pretty flexible."

There was also an ad in today's paper for Shorewood "night club" Bedrocks. B96 DJ Julian "Jumpin' Perez" will be appearing at midnight tomorrow night, and the ad warns, "Come and get your seat early." There are two problems with that sentence: first, it implies that seats are hard to come by at Bedrocks. This is not the case. People may be hard to come by, but not seats. Second, who sits and listens to a DJ? I had a brief run-in with "Jumpin' " a couple years back at the B96 Bash, when Wendy, my sister, and I were trying to find wristbands to get into our section. I asked a man who looked large and in charge if he had any, but he laughed at me as if he found it hilarious that I thought he was the wristband guy. Later on during the concert, some DJ's took the stage, and sure enough, Mr "No Wristbands" was Mr. Perez himself. Ah, the irony that this cocky man is now headlining gigs at the crappy bar near the Shorewood library. However we should all heed the quote posted on his B96 bio page: the bug eyed Virgo states, ""If you're hungry, don't pick a fight with the cook." Another highlight: "Q:'What is your nickname?' A: 'Jumpin'."

Bug alert: The Texas Roadhouse (steakhouse by the mall, for the uninformed) has been confirmed by three sources (three=true) to have infestation issues. Joe's sister, Tim's family, and our plumber all have spotted insects in this no longer so fine dining establishment. Danger!

Luckily there were no bugs, just buffalo wings on the menu when Joe and I dined at Hooters in Aurora last night. I'm a big enough fan of wings to not let the lack of other female patrons deter me from eating there, except for the time that Melanie and I were the only all female table and called her brother for backup. Last night our waitress's name was Fatima, which Joe and I found way more funny that we should have, especially when we got our bill, which read, "You have been served by Fatima." It just sounded like something from a brothel or "massage parlor," but not the massage parlor in my neighborhood of course. Everytime that Fatima would ask me if I needed anything, I replied, "No, I'm good, " to which she asked, "You're good?" I was confused, but I let it go. More troubling was the sight of another waitress, who we'll call "Tori." "Tori" was apparently not familiar with the concepts of self tanner or matching pantyhose to skin tone, and instead enhanced the color of her legs by wearing pantyhose so dark that they made her look like a white woman with African-American legs. It was as if someone took the legs off a Christie doll and stuck them on a Barbie, and quite a sight to behold. I left Hooters with one question on my mind: what would happen if they opened a Hooters in J-town? The answer: a much longer Herald News police blotter. I can just imagine the story:

JOLIET--A local wings fan found himself not in hot sauce but in hot water with the police when he tried to help himself to the "Hooters" on display at a local restaurant. . .

Herald News and Hair of the Dog

While the Herald News' write up of an altercation involving a "slim man" and a "large woman" was somewhat amusing, it seemed like a classic blotter entry was in order again today. Particularly amusing segments will be in bold.


Drug search


JOLIET -- If it were not for a thorough strip search Thursday at the Will County Jail, some contraband may have slipped through the cracks.

Michael E. Parrott, 23, 132 Fairmont, attempted to conceal more than 36 grams of cocaine and cannabis by tucking it into a personal orifice when being booked into the jail, according to police reports.

Parrott was arrested at 9:35 p.m. on charges of manufacturing and delivery of a controlled substance, possession of a controlled substance, delivery of cannabis more than 30 grams, bringing contraband into jail, driving while license suspended and failure to signal.

He was detained during a traffic stop at Illinois 171 and Harvard in Lockport.

Some cocaine was found when the arresting officer did a sweep of Parrott's vehicle, but the initial pat-down did not turn up any more drugs, reports said.

At the jail, during a strip search, police reported finding the clear plastic bag clenched between the arrestee's buttocks.


I think a better headline would have been "Police find crack in a crack," but I'm not a Herald News reporter. In other news, while doing a search online today (this is how I entertain myself at work), I found that a metal band called Hair of the Dog has a song called "Whiskey Tango." I don't think the lyrics could be more appropriate.


WHISKEY TANGO

Monster trucks are throwin' down tonight


I think we'll take the El Camino


And high tail it to the fairground site


We'll leave our women behind




Drunk and scopin' on some teenage action


Kickin' back in our seats


When a hotrod kitty fallin' out of a halter top


Pointed her guns at me



We're in the ladies room, baby's sittin' up on the sink

Gonna grab a little whiskey tango lovin' I think...


Walkin' back by a big 'ol biker


I bumped into his knee


The dude jumped up with a Budweiser bottle


And he swung that shit at me



Here we are gettin' bloody in a big bleacher fight


I'd say it's lookin' like a whiskey tango party tonight...




One... Two... whiskey tango, I love to whiskey tango


Three, four... won't-cha do it some more


One... Two... whiskey tango, I love to whiskey tango


C'mon, now how 'bout you?




Also, if any readers have any Whiskey Tango adventures or observations of their own, please email me. You could have your own guest entry on Whiskey Tango! Please, don't wet yourself from the excitement.

An Addendum to Saturday Night's Adventures

Reader Nancy of Joliet reminded me of a couple more interesting events of Saturday night. Features in Naperville was apparently the place to spot celebrities or be spotted as a celebrity. First, when we were in the bathroom, we met a drunken woman who kept telling Nancy she looked like Liv Tyler. Even though there really isn't much of a resemblance, we didn't tell the woman she was "Crazy," but instead pretended the resemblance was "Amazing." We didn't want to laugh at the woman, because then she might start "Cryin'." Later on in the evening we saw a dead ringer for Stifler's Mom. Though she was not a MILF in my opinion, I suspect the man she was with felt otherwise.

From the Files of the Joliet PD

I stayed home sick from work today and don't really have anything new to report, so for your reading pleasure I've compiled a few classic police blotter stories. Enjoy!



Potatoes pitched in attack on man, woman

JOLIET -- A man told police a woman kicked open his front door while he was watching television, shouted at him, punched him in the face, kicked him in the leg and threw a bowl of potatoes at him Sunday evening. The 28-year-old man was watching television in his Fairview Avenue home with an 18-year-old woman about 6:30 p.m. when the front door was kicked in, police said.
After the potatoes were thrown, the 18-year-old said the woman punched her in the face, pulled her hair and grabbed her hands.The 18-year-old suffered abrasions to her knuckles and the backs of her hands and bruises to her right cheek, police said.
The potato-throwing woman then took off in a Dodge Stratus, police said. Four children were in the residence at the time of the attack, police said.



Teen breaks in, rips off Honey Buns, car keys

JOLIET -- A 16-year-old boy was arrested on a charge of breaking into an Essington Road automotive repair garage early Thursday. An alarm call brought police to the building, which had a broken window.
Inside, they found the boy hiding, according to reports.He reportedly took eight Honey Buns, six Twizzlers and five packages of Pop-Tarts from a vending machine he broke.
Losses and damages were estimated at more than $75.
He also took eight sets of car keys and later admitted to police that he broke into 12 cars in the business's parking lot, reports said.
Most of the vehicles' owners found nothing missing from their cars.
One man said a gold ring, three cassette tapes, $2 and a car key were missing from his Camaro.
His loss was set at $182.



Security halts theft at casino buffet

JOLIET -- Harrah's Casino security swooped in to apprehend men stealing fried chicken from a buffet Tuesday evening, police said. Shawn Mahoney, 32, of 325 Hunter Ave. and Dana McCourt, 45, of 611 E. Cass St. both were booked on charges of theft in connection with the 5:50 p.m. incident.
A third man, Raymond Green, 45, of 611 E. Cass St., was arrested on a charge of criminal trespass.The security advisor for Harrah's Casino took action when he was advised of men taking chicken from a buffet and depositing it in their pockets without paying, police said.
Security workers detained the two men and found not only fried fowl in their pockets, police said, but a bottle of A-1 steak sauce on McCourt as well.
McCourt and Mahoney reportedly had managed to get a total of six pieces of chicken into their pockets before they were apprehended.



In other news, I watched an episode of 90210 today that I'd never seen before, involving Brandon and a farmhand, Steve and ugly football t-shirts, and Donna getting stalked. Now I recall this storyline occurring earlier on in 90210, and I just don't understand: even if the creators of 90210 think the viewers are dumb enough to think that anyone would want to stalk Donna once, how could they think that we'd believe she'd be stalked again? Tori Spelling frightens me.

We Be Jammin'

The Herald News has had nothing of note for the last couple days, but I noticed on the website that they have old police blotter items archived, so in the coming days expect some classic entries from the files of the Joliet PD. Yes, Honey Buns will be included.
As promised, I will share with you tales of Saturday night's adventure at Dreams in Lockport. As we drove down Illinois Street past Dreams, we noticed a lot of motorcycles out front, adding suspicion to the vague recollection that someone told me that Dreams was a biker bar. As we parked, we saw some clean cut guys around our age walking in, so we figured we might have been wrong. We arrived at Dreams, paid the $7 cover (a little much for a suburban bar, especially after you read the rest of this story) and ventured in. Yes, we did see many biker type fellows, including a Santa Claus lookalike at the bar (I figured sitting on his lap and telling him I wanted a crotch rocket for Christmas wasn't the best idea). However, the place was mostly populated by hippie types, including a girl walking around barefoot (I was afraid she'd slip and fall in Miller Light or droppings from someone's beard). As Melanie and I were wearing Nordstrom and Charlotte Russe's interpretations of hippie tops, we fit in moderately well, though I think my Coach purse might have blown my cover. Side note-Patchwork Jeans Alert: during a mall trip earlier that afternoon, Melanie and I spotted two girls wearing matching versions of the Dreaded Denim at Charlotte Russe. We ventured around a bit before our other friends arrived, eventually finding out that tonight's band was Mr. Blotto. A kind gentleman informed us that Mr. Blotto did Grateful Dead and Allman Brothers covers, but also performed original material. Near the back of the bar we found a makeshift head shop put up for the night, featuring items such as mini Grateful Dead bears, hemp bags, and my personal favorite, a hat with a secret stash pocket. Apparently, you can put your weed in there. After checking out the scene a bit more, Nancy and Megan arrived and after getting drinks, we decided to figure out a spot to stay in for awhile. It's always a little weird going to a new bar for the first time because you don't really know the protocol: you don't really want to sit at the bar with the regulars, but you don't want to stand in the middle of nowhere like an idiot. The band was beginning, so we chose to stand near the head shop, a distance from the side of the stage. After putting a couple friends' names on Mr. Blotto's mailing list, we stood for a bit and listened to the band. They weren't bad, just not my kind of music. However, Mr. Blotto's hardcore fans would beg to differ. The Mr. Blotto fan profile: late 20's-40's, long hair, male or female, glazed eyes, and, the most important factor-wearing a Mr. Blotto t-shirt to a Mr. Blotto concert. Yes, a typical Mr. Blotto fan is That Guy. The Blottophiles in front of us were women who swayed somewhat jerkily from side to side, standing near a table that held a small candle in a shell. Was this a sacrifice to the Blotto gods? No one knows. Nancy thought she saw a face in the shell, and I did my best to check out the situation, but we think it was just a shadow. We went to the bar for another drink, and I ordered a Woodchuck, which was on draft there. A large biker type man with lots of facial hair (if you want to know what Muppet I think he looked like, click here) asked me what I was drinking, I told him it was a Woodchuck. He responded, "How much chuck would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" I replied that I didn't know, and he said, "I bet you didn't think I'd know that!" I moved back to my group and let the man be. We chatted for a few minutes, then a hyper looking skinny guy walked up to us. I don't remember his exact words, but he said something like, "Why aren't you girls jamming out there? Do you want to come jam?" We told him that we had "jammed" previously, and he walked away, only to return a few minutes later to ask the same question. Realizing we were girls that "dance" more than we "jam," we decided to leave Dreams and pursue other arenas. Melanie was tired and headed home, but Megan, Nancy and I headed for Naperville to meet up with a guy we knew from high school. The soundtrack for the ride to Naperville was New Kids on the Block's Greatest Hits, and time flew by while listening to the many ways in which NKOTB vocally woo their "girls." We hung out for a while in Naperville, and though we went to the bar where the Diva of Denim had been spotted before, she was not in attendance on Saturday night. The only interesting item from Naperville occurred as we were walking toward the bars. A group of guys passed us, and one of them attempted to woo us by saying, "Hey ladies," followed by "Shit!" I'm not old fashioned, but is "Shit!" the best way to pick up girls? How do you respond? "Caca," perhaps? Maybe "Please don't go girl," or "You got the right stuff" would work better. I sure went for it in fifth grade.