Tales From the Vacation. Part 6 of Too Many
“C’mon get down with the sickness…” Disturbed
First things first. No more halves to my stories. No more .1’s or .2’s or .10’s (I know, I know) for that matter. I’m just tellin’ the stories as the come. If you don’t like it, contact the Dissertation Station complaint department. Can’t find it? That’s ‘cause there ain’t one. Stupid Douche bag.
Follow the bouncin' ballpart 1, part 2, the first half of part 3, the second half of part 3, part 4 , part 5, and part 5.5. God, I’ll be glad when I don’t have to do this shit anymore.
When you go on a vacation to a place like Disney with more than one person (and let’s face it, a real vacation is a vacation you go on by yourself), there’s always that breakin’ point. It’s that point, usually half way through the vacation, that everyone is tired beyond tired. And they are wicked, wicked, wicked cranky. The hope is that everyone in the group doesn’t hit that point at once. That’s bad. It’s along the lines of reality foldin' onto it’s self bad. Or gettin' genital herpes kinda bad. Fortunately, that didn’t happen to us. However, we came damn close to it on day 4.
The day didn’t start off that way. It was picture god damn perfect! Everyone was somewhat in good spirits. We did some swimmin’ for the first half of the day. Then we decided to head for Epcot to close the night. Now, the Juice is a big fan of Epcot. I’m not exactly sure why, either. I’ve always been intrigued by Spaceship Earth (Man that thing is cool! Even though they’ve got that stupid arm next to it). But, Epcot ain’t really for kids. It’s way too big, not enough kid things. Blah, blah fucking blah. I love the place just the same. Probably ‘cause my ol’ man and his wife took us to Epcot a few times when I was growin’ up. One time, my dad and his wife got “lost” for a few hours at Epcot. I was kid at the time. The first 4 hours they were “lost” were kinda scary. You know, wanderin’ around the park lookin' for your dad and your pain in the ass, you took my dad away from me, step mom. But, believe you me, I was disappointed when I eventually “found” them comin' out of Spaceship Earth. They reeked of reefer and were a bit disheveled. It took me years to figure they ditched me in the park to go fuck in the hotel. It was probably the condom wrapper I found in my bed that should have given it away. In any case, Epcot is the place for me.
Back in the present day, we get to the park late in the afternoon. I guess it was around four or so. Which was fine with me. I hadn’t planned on coverin' too much while we were there. When we got into the park, I saw that Soarin’, the new ride from the poorest excuse of a theme park, California Adventure, was havin' one of it’s first days of soft openin'. I though to myself, “Sweet!” I figured I’d ride Soarin’ several thousand times. And when I got back home, I would head straight to the Farmington Hills Library, get on the computer, go straight to the WDWMagic forums and tell all those goons how great the ride was how much of a loser they all were for spendin' all their time on a message board complainin' about chipped paint on the third light post from the left on Main St. Stupid computer nerds.
I was tempted to run right over and get on that ride. How often do you get to participate in a soft openin'? But, the family was hungry. What else was new? Whine, whine, whine. Bitch, bitch, bitch. So we got somethin' to eat at the Electric Umbrella. And let me tell you, everyone took their good ol time eatin'. God, forbid we go on more than one frickin' ride a day on this vacation. At this point I’m not so much hurryin' everyone to get movin', but well, I am.
Everyone finally finishes wastin'…I mean eatin'. Everyone takes care of their business and we guess what? We get out of the restaurant! Finally! We head on over to go onto Soarin’. Guess what again? It was closed. FUCKING CLOSED! I throw my head back and scream to the sky “Walt Disney how you mock me!!!!!”
Not only was the ride closed, the whole dang side of Future World south or north southwest, whatever the hell they call it, was also closed. WTFMFF (that’s What The Flying Mother Fucking Fuck. Like it? I invented it myself.) I didn’t have time to throw a tantrum. 'Cause I'm closin' in on my breakin' point, also. My oldest, Sara, had to go back to the bathroom. So I walked her back to the restaurant, cursin'. Not at her, but at life in general. The wife stayed near the fountains with the rest of the clan.
I waited outside the bathrooms at the Electric Umbrella. After a few minutes, Sara comes out, and we go back to the family. We take three steps, and Sara has to go back to the bathroom. Yes, you guess it. Diarrhea. Now, I ain’t gonna make fun of her. Nothin', NOTHIN', is worse than Montezuma’s Revenge. But, I told the fam NOT to drink that water. Everyone knows that Florida may be part of the good ol’ US of A, but it might as well not be when it comes to water. Or social services, or highway clean-up or good quality whores (hey, i haven't always been married). We might as well let Mexico annex the state. Hell, I’d let the penguins at the Galapagos Islands annex Florida.
And then you’ll never guess what happened. I got too fucking tired to write anymore. Guess there’s always when I feel like writing more. If I was a chick (which I ain’t. all man. Ask your momma. Well, better ask her tomorrow), I’d be a dick tease.
First things first. No more halves to my stories. No more .1’s or .2’s or .10’s (I know, I know) for that matter. I’m just tellin’ the stories as the come. If you don’t like it, contact the Dissertation Station complaint department. Can’t find it? That’s ‘cause there ain’t one. Stupid Douche bag.
Follow the bouncin' ballpart 1, part 2, the first half of part 3, the second half of part 3, part 4 , part 5, and part 5.5. God, I’ll be glad when I don’t have to do this shit anymore.
When you go on a vacation to a place like Disney with more than one person (and let’s face it, a real vacation is a vacation you go on by yourself), there’s always that breakin’ point. It’s that point, usually half way through the vacation, that everyone is tired beyond tired. And they are wicked, wicked, wicked cranky. The hope is that everyone in the group doesn’t hit that point at once. That’s bad. It’s along the lines of reality foldin' onto it’s self bad. Or gettin' genital herpes kinda bad. Fortunately, that didn’t happen to us. However, we came damn close to it on day 4.
The day didn’t start off that way. It was picture god damn perfect! Everyone was somewhat in good spirits. We did some swimmin’ for the first half of the day. Then we decided to head for Epcot to close the night. Now, the Juice is a big fan of Epcot. I’m not exactly sure why, either. I’ve always been intrigued by Spaceship Earth (Man that thing is cool! Even though they’ve got that stupid arm next to it). But, Epcot ain’t really for kids. It’s way too big, not enough kid things. Blah, blah fucking blah. I love the place just the same. Probably ‘cause my ol’ man and his wife took us to Epcot a few times when I was growin’ up. One time, my dad and his wife got “lost” for a few hours at Epcot. I was kid at the time. The first 4 hours they were “lost” were kinda scary. You know, wanderin’ around the park lookin' for your dad and your pain in the ass, you took my dad away from me, step mom. But, believe you me, I was disappointed when I eventually “found” them comin' out of Spaceship Earth. They reeked of reefer and were a bit disheveled. It took me years to figure they ditched me in the park to go fuck in the hotel. It was probably the condom wrapper I found in my bed that should have given it away. In any case, Epcot is the place for me.
Back in the present day, we get to the park late in the afternoon. I guess it was around four or so. Which was fine with me. I hadn’t planned on coverin' too much while we were there. When we got into the park, I saw that Soarin’, the new ride from the poorest excuse of a theme park, California Adventure, was havin' one of it’s first days of soft openin'. I though to myself, “Sweet!” I figured I’d ride Soarin’ several thousand times. And when I got back home, I would head straight to the Farmington Hills Library, get on the computer, go straight to the WDWMagic forums and tell all those goons how great the ride was how much of a loser they all were for spendin' all their time on a message board complainin' about chipped paint on the third light post from the left on Main St. Stupid computer nerds.
I was tempted to run right over and get on that ride. How often do you get to participate in a soft openin'? But, the family was hungry. What else was new? Whine, whine, whine. Bitch, bitch, bitch. So we got somethin' to eat at the Electric Umbrella. And let me tell you, everyone took their good ol time eatin'. God, forbid we go on more than one frickin' ride a day on this vacation. At this point I’m not so much hurryin' everyone to get movin', but well, I am.
Everyone finally finishes wastin'…I mean eatin'. Everyone takes care of their business and we guess what? We get out of the restaurant! Finally! We head on over to go onto Soarin’. Guess what again? It was closed. FUCKING CLOSED! I throw my head back and scream to the sky “Walt Disney how you mock me!!!!!”
Not only was the ride closed, the whole dang side of Future World south or north southwest, whatever the hell they call it, was also closed. WTFMFF (that’s What The Flying Mother Fucking Fuck. Like it? I invented it myself.) I didn’t have time to throw a tantrum. 'Cause I'm closin' in on my breakin' point, also. My oldest, Sara, had to go back to the bathroom. So I walked her back to the restaurant, cursin'. Not at her, but at life in general. The wife stayed near the fountains with the rest of the clan.
I waited outside the bathrooms at the Electric Umbrella. After a few minutes, Sara comes out, and we go back to the family. We take three steps, and Sara has to go back to the bathroom. Yes, you guess it. Diarrhea. Now, I ain’t gonna make fun of her. Nothin', NOTHIN', is worse than Montezuma’s Revenge. But, I told the fam NOT to drink that water. Everyone knows that Florida may be part of the good ol’ US of A, but it might as well not be when it comes to water. Or social services, or highway clean-up or good quality whores (hey, i haven't always been married). We might as well let Mexico annex the state. Hell, I’d let the penguins at the Galapagos Islands annex Florida.
And then you’ll never guess what happened. I got too fucking tired to write anymore. Guess there’s always when I feel like writing more. If I was a chick (which I ain’t. all man. Ask your momma. Well, better ask her tomorrow), I’d be a dick tease.
posted by the Juice at 10:28 PM
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