It is very difficult to pour paint into a balloon. It is not like making water balloons from a water faucet; there is no pressure to force the paint into the balloon. Also, once you do get the paint into a balloon it does not throw straight; it wobbles.
Several years ago I was very, very, proud of the flower bed in front of my house. It was a mixture of beautiful colors, all sizes of blooms, many different varieties of rampant blossoms. I diligently maintained it. One of my neighbors leased a large area of pasture behind my place. No matter what kind of fence, or how often it was replaced, one particular cow could get through it and would head straight for my flower bed. I would go to bed with a beautiful blooming garden and the next morning wake up to just stalks and mounds of meadow muffins dropped off like a calling card. I hated that cow. The owner did not believe it was his cow. I asked him if I painted its butt purple if he would believe me. He said yes. This is the reason I put purple paint in some balloons (and accidentally up the mini blinds above my kitchen sink. I was preparing for bovine war.
The next step was catching the cow. I put up motion sensor lights in front of my house with one light placed to shine through my bedroom window so that I would know when the cow arrived. The lights worked, but I could not throw the paint balls straight enough to hit the rump roast! It was not unusual to see me, at two a.m., running like a crazy woman, chasing a cow across my pasture and badly throwing paint filled balloons. After a few weeks the cow thought it was a game. She would wait for me – at my front door – then start running as soon as the screen door opened. I swear I saw her grinning. Damn, I hated that cow.
I called the owner daily, sometimes more than once a day, to complain. He quit answering the phone. Finally, one night, I was watching TV with my son and the sensor lights popped on; the cow was waiting for me at my front door. My son had a staring match with her through the screen door while I went out a back way carrying my bucket of purple paint. I walked slowly up behind the cow and poured the paint across her broad back side. She plopped me a steaming caling card in return and then ran. I called the owner. Mission accomplished.
You know how cows tend to bunch up together? Evidently the paint did not dry very fast and this cow visited friends. A few days later the neighbor called to tell me I would no longer have trouble with the cow; he had found the one wearing purple paint and she was residing in his freezer. That night she returned and helped herself to my remaining flowers. As I watched her I called the neighbor and told him I was looking at the ghost of his cow chowing down in my flower bed. He began to sob. Aw, crap!
I planted shrubs in that flower bed. I no longer chase cows or do anything that resembles running. The color purple is permanently banned from my home, although, I do still have a pasture full of purple painted rocks. I eat chicken.
