2005-01-07 - 11:18 a.m.
Tomorrow I will be leaving to pay homage to a giant talking rodent and an insane, pant-less duck.
I am expecting this be a very expensive vacation. You know, I can fly completely across the country and end up in Vegas, where I will spend hour after countless hour tossing piles of my hard earned money into shiny slot machines, pushing it across poker tables and deftly slipping it into strippers g-strings, and still spend less money than a week at the “Happiest Place on Earth”.
Who the hell picked this vacation anyway? Mental note: I need to pay more attention and drink less during vacation planning meetings with our circle of travel friends.
Ok, I’ll drop the crusty curmudgeon façade for a moment and admit I am excited to be getting away from the icy cold for a week and going with my lovely wife and a few good friends to a nice sunny southern latitude. It should be a great time.
However, I refuse to go on “It’s a Small World”. Those freaky little dolls give me the willies, and I think we can all agree that damn song invades your brain and slowly turns it to mush. I think this is how people become democrats.
Also, I am refusing to purchase ANY souvenirs that have a mouse logo on it. I’ve been to Disney several times before and I do not know what comes over me, but each time, I end up coming home with piles of Disney merchandise that I never use and actually don’t even want. I don’t know what happens, but somehow, after a few days of being completely immersed in Disney’s controlled environment, I find I have an overwhelming desire to buy anything that has that damn, friggin mouse stamped on it.
That’s me over there: digging like a maniac through the clothes rack, tossing clothing franticly over my shoulder as I search for the last X-Large Mickey Mouse Hawaiian Shirt
“Honey! Honey! I found one! I found one!” I’ll gleefully exclaim like a retarded school girl, as I do a little happy dance around the store “It’s on sale! $95.00! I’m gonna get two!”
I obviously suffer from some rare form of brain damage. Or, perhaps it's just plain stupidity.
What the hell? Why do I have Mickey Mouse brand boxer shorts? Mickey Mouse pan cake and egg rings? Sure, they’re stuffed somewhere in the kitchen “junk drawer”. Disneyworld cook book? Got it. Goofy tie? Yup. Watches, hats, shirts, sports bottles, sunglasses, stuffed animals, notepads, pens, fanny pack, martini glasses, Mickey Mouse Kilt....I got em all and then some. Why I have a Daisy Duck training bra, I haven’t a clue.
One time I even took the official Disney toilet paper home with me. I shit you not.
I do resolve to have at least one drink in each of the Epcot countries. My lovely wife and I tried this one time a few years ago. We made it as far as Canada and then realized we were in no condition to continue. We ended up taking a refreshing dip in one of the fountains, until a team of Mouse Police showed up and very quickly and discreetly escorted us back to our hotel. I was amazed by their efficiency (and politeness). I was left with the impression this was not the first time they had to do this.
I hope everyone has a great week.
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