Ballons = Fun?

So it's that time in the box office where we have to blow up hundreds of balloons for our little New Year's Eve shindig.

Do you have any idea how much FUN it is to blow up hundreds of balloons?

Do you have any idea how much loaded sarcasm was in that last question?!?

The answer to both questions is:
A buttload.

Here's what happens when you blow up hundreds of balloons:
a)Your hands smell like latex for hours
b)Your hands dry out and hurt
c)Your fingers turn purple from tying them

I have crooked fingers. Really, I do. I think it's probably because I've been biting my nails so long. They're deformed mutants. And also, not very nimble...thus, balloon tying (along with opening cans of pop, peeling oranges, and picking pennies off the floor)is very difficult for me. Therefore balloon-blowing-up for me yielded much frustration and several popped balloons that literally exploded in my lap as I tried to tie them.

What were the good parts of balloon-blowing up?
You might think there weren't any, but I'm a positive person who tries to find the good in any situation. Here are the good parts:
a) I got a good workout because we had to use hand-pumps. Thus my Maxmius arms are now even more Maximus-like.
b) I don't care who you are, or how old you are...but any time you let the air out of a balloon and it flies around sputtering out fart noises-it's just damn funny. And it happened several times too, because we'd be in the middle of pumping and the phone would ring (did I mention we were blowing these up will still functioning as a normal box office?) we would try and keep the air in, but inevitably, at some point we would forget and let go. And you know what? It never got old. It was always funny. Because even though we were sitting there blowing up lots and lots of balloons it was always somewhat unexpected. And the fart noises. Those are always funny.
c) It allowed me to work on my "fear of things happening suddenly." I don't like it when things are out of control, I don't like being surprised in a bad way (ie: haunted houses, people jumping out at me, people cutting me off in traffic). So to have a balloon in my hand that like a ticking time bomb could at any point, explode was a healthy experience for me, I feel. I realized that hey, sometimes shit is just gonna pop and there's nothing you can really do about it. Except maybe not put so much air in next time.
d) The good part about blowing up so many balloons is that I get to help drop them on drunk people's heads at midnight. Nothing like seeing drunk adults stomp on balloons.

Pumping up balloons is also a good segue to a valuable lesson:

This is your brain:


This is your brain on drugs (or after blowing up assloads of balloons):