Just got back from spending a few days with Mickey & the gang at the house of mouse in beautiful, sunny California. While all the locals complained about the intense heat, I smiled. Seems like when the mercury hits around 78 or so, our friends in the granola state tend to fly into a bit of a panic. They actually have to turn ON the A/C's! I was, by far, the happiest red-neck in California for a few days. When I told a lady that it was 104 in San Antonio the day before I got on the airplane, I thought she was going to suffer heat stroke!
Other than a few minor obstacles, the trip was a smashing success. The Disney people know how to do things right! You would have to really look to find a piece of trash on the ground, and everyone that I ran into in a Disney uniform was friendly and courteous. I even saw a sign that said "Guest Relations"! I stood in line at the door for 45 minutes before it was politely explained to me that they don't mean that kind of "relations"! I was pretty bummed about that for a while, cuz there were some pretty good looking guests!
Don't get me wrong. There were some pretty dang bad looking guests too! A bunch! And some lard-asses like you can't believe! When you're pushing the big five-oh-oh, it can't be all that comfortable to ride around Disneyland all day in your scooter! Of course, when I mentioned this, the response I got was "at least they're out here trying". BS. If they were out here trying, they'd get their fat-asses out of the scooter and walk a little bit. That's like pulling out my checkbook to write the electric payment, but not actually writing the check. "At least I'm trying to pay". Oh yeah, they all happen to like ice cream too. A LOT! It was personally disturbing to see the fat lady (I use fat here generously, because I believe the correct word is actually ginormous) sitting in her scooter go through the little windy-maze thing of a line to get to the ice cream counter. First off, you don't need the damn ice cream! Secondly, you don't need to ruin everybody else's appetite by letting your shirt ride up so we could all see your lovely mid-section! (just threw up a little in my mouth, AGAIN) Third, if you can't drive that damn thing any better than that, stay the hell at home!
Okay, I feel better.
I've worked out a couple of handy hints for you if you should ever try to go hang with the mouse.
1: You're basically gonna walk the equivilent of 750 flights of stairs, 750 times a day. Get some comfy shoes.
2. Disneyland doesn't sell alcohol. This is an important item after hint #1. Get yourself a flask.
3. Everything in Disneyland is expensive. Deal with it or don't go. Nobody in the park wants to hear you arguing with Starla about spending 6 bucks on a corn-dog or saving it for a 12 pack of Milwaukee's Best.
4. Did I mention you're gonna walk a LOT?
5. Take dramamine or don't eat. Enough said.
6. If your kid is crying BEFORE they get on the ride, don't make 'em ride it.
7. If you can figure out when the camera takes the picture, ride it again and do something goofy. (like eat a peanut bar) (or pray)
8. It's only 75 degrees in California in July. Don't ride a water ride early in the morning. It's a pain in the butt to wear wet drawers all day! (literally)
9. Watch the fireworks.
10. Get a spot early for the parade. (but don't sit directly above a storm sewer drain. They stink)
And that leads me to the most humorous comment I heard the entire trip. Me and the man-child were finishing up our business in the bathroom, when we hear this little kid say to his dad, "what I said was I didn't pee in your pants". A minor distinction, but a major revelation!
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