vettechick99
<font color=purple>Why do I open these threads?<br
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2004
- Messages
- 8,085
I know that it takes more than a locked thread to keep this Jeager Bomb-drinkin', Larry David-seein', beadboard-nailin', bad picture-takin' DIS'r down!
In light of recent events, I feel I must first address my readers before diving into the next installment. In order to keep this thread open and alive, here are the ground rules:
1. All replies must have the words Disney, hot snot!, or Gary Sinise, or refer to any type of cheese.
2. You cannot ask me when the next installment will be ready, because in your heart you already know the answer - 3 weeks later than you think.
3. Please, please, please keep all praise, idolatry, exaltation, flattery, and worship to a bare minimum. We can't all be as great as me, so let's not remind the others. It's just cruel.
And now on with the show! Oh wait, this is the "show" Part 2. The original "show" started here:

Still Day 3...
"Hot damn, I found it!", I scream with excitement as I pull them out of my purse.
"You found the keys?", Kory exclaims hopefully.
"Keys? Oh no. But I did find an old TV Guide from 1988 and this half-eaten Kit Kat from 7 months ago. I'm starving!"
No, my friends, I did not find the keys in my purse. You wanna know why? Because he freakin' drove and never gave them to me! A tip from me to you: never drink and then expect to think the next day. I'm telling ya, alcohol makes you foggier than a Widespread Panic concert at the University of FL in Gainesville, FL. Not that I have any experience with that.
By the way, Go UF! Take that, FSUMARCHIEF!
So, we check every available pocket, including a passerby's, and conclude that neither of us has the keys. What a terrible feeling, having your stomach drop like that. The last time that happened was about 3 years ago. I was at the Outback eating steak with Kory when I hear him say, "It's over". Had I pulled my face out of the Bloomin' Onion for two seconds I might have heard, "-cooked". But for a minute there....boy was I upset!
We decide that the movies is the likely resting place, so we head back into the Marketplace to their customer service desk. We figure instead of walking all the way back to the Westside (cripes, I want to cry just thinking about it), it's really easier to just call the movies and see if the custodial staff had found them first. After all, we are grubbers and boozers. Too much exercise kills your buzz.
Speaking of, what happens from here on out really is a buzzkill, so I'll fast forward to "We found them, end of story".
But if you are needing to waste some more time at work and prefer a more detailed version, here it is:
Uh, we no look, we no find; how about $5?; well #$*@# you!; my feet hurt; $#*@ you, too!; this Kit-Kat sure is good; wait, don't walk off, don't be mad; COPS!; YOU lost the keys; I heart Wolfgang Puck's bar; my feet hurt; be right back; me no lookie anymore; Excuse me, I need a drink. Any drink. The bigger, the better; not there; look again; I sure want to see Cirque again. Need another drink here!; yes?; yes. In cushions; Sorry; Sorry; Kiss?; Kiss.
Let me tell you, you really didn't want the long version of that. I'm pretty sure we used every dirty word in the book and even made up a few of our own. If you are in the market for a new cuss word, just PM me. I might just write a book.
So, we pull up our bootstraps (part 2) and walk from the Westside back to the Marketplace parking lot. When our cute little white car is in sight, I drop my entire freakin' body in gratitude. Never in my life have I been so happy to see a messy car with bird poop, 100K miles and a tag about to expire.
We open the car door (woohoo!), start the engine (woohoo!), head to our home-away-from-home, and relax with Disney DVC infomercials (me) and nap time (him).
A few hours later, Kory has napped away any attitude and I'm one phone call away from 150 pts. On the agenda? Let's go back to 2004 and reminisce, shall we?
Well I'm into that sort of thing, so bring on the AKL! Anything to shake the day of depressing mental-shopping, keys losing and non-DVC buying. Plus we have PS's at Jiko (that's ADR's for you new folks), so it's a natural pit stop before we get our grub on.
We put on some smell-pretty, don our finest outfits, and head out to our car.
I like how Disney paints their bandaids. It almost looks like that board is supposed to be there. Those Imagineers never miss a moment to add an architectural detail!
Once at the hottest resort on property, we park and stroll up to the walkway to the lobby. We step down the staircase into the bar and stop abruptly at the bottom.
"But..huh? There are like two people here. Where is everyone?", Kory asks, looking around.
"Really, I kinda imagined this place to be more happening."
"I'm sure they're coming. They're just lost or something. Hey, I bet they asked that African CM for directions and they all ended up in the boiler room."
Not deterred by the lack of activity, we belly up to the bar and check out the menu. I usually like to sample a bar's signature drink, but I'm not feeling their drinks tonight. Well, I tried, but they called me a perv and told me to go back to my seat. Eventually I decide on an Amaretto Sour and Kory orders a something or another. Booze I think.
We chat absently, trying to avoid the subject of keys. Heck, even words with the letters "keys" in them.
Twenty-five minutes later, we have talked about everything but primates, the other couple has left, and the bartender is doing his taxes, so we pay our tab and head over to Jiko.
What a fabulous looking restaurant! We find the decor attractive and the layout comfortable. We're not all stove up in here like at park restaurants.
Do you guys know what "all stove up" means? Maybe that's a regional slang? Just checking.
Our server greets us and recommends a nice wine for me, the house Shiraz. I'm a house wine kinda gal. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be able to call over the sommelier and ask for a bottle of their finest, except I don't know how to say sommelier. Well, that and I'm middle class. Not upper-middle, mind you, because I'm pretty sure you need an MBA, 2.4 kids, and a Beamer for that. Just middle of the road middle-class. Come to think of it, I might actually be lower middle-class according to my teaching paycheck. Hmmm. Anyway, so I stick to my house wines, since house is a word I can pronounce and one of my favorite tv shows.
Back to the booze, the server suggests and Kory orders the Tusker beer, which he enjoys. In fact, we both enjoy our drink. Two thumbs up to the rockin' server!
Apparently my finest is a jean jacket.
Our dinner progresses with amazing, delicious, fantastic, make ya wanna slap ya mama and grammy spring rolls. I mean this dish is good times. Dinner includes two hearty entrees, the ribs for Kory and a big honkin' piece of steak for me. Hello, this thing is over 2 inches thick. Crickey! Unfortunately, I kinda filled up on the spring rolls so I don't get to really savor my filet.
We leave the restaurant with a full stomach, a doggie bag of a 47 oz filet minus 2 bites, and a half-dozen bones for our hound dog, Grace.
Speaking of, I wonder what she's doing. She'd better not be on the cou...
Oh well, at least she's not drinking. She's too young to drink.
We drive to our home-away-from-home and slip into bed. No late night for us, we are beat! Plus, we are getting up bright and early for our AK day.
Up next, Pam and Snake Eyes sightings and...well this picture speaks for itself.
Part 10, pg 5
In light of recent events, I feel I must first address my readers before diving into the next installment. In order to keep this thread open and alive, here are the ground rules:
1. All replies must have the words Disney, hot snot!, or Gary Sinise, or refer to any type of cheese.
2. You cannot ask me when the next installment will be ready, because in your heart you already know the answer - 3 weeks later than you think.
3. Please, please, please keep all praise, idolatry, exaltation, flattery, and worship to a bare minimum. We can't all be as great as me, so let's not remind the others. It's just cruel.
And now on with the show! Oh wait, this is the "show" Part 2. The original "show" started here:

Still Day 3...
"Hot damn, I found it!", I scream with excitement as I pull them out of my purse.
"You found the keys?", Kory exclaims hopefully.
"Keys? Oh no. But I did find an old TV Guide from 1988 and this half-eaten Kit Kat from 7 months ago. I'm starving!"
No, my friends, I did not find the keys in my purse. You wanna know why? Because he freakin' drove and never gave them to me! A tip from me to you: never drink and then expect to think the next day. I'm telling ya, alcohol makes you foggier than a Widespread Panic concert at the University of FL in Gainesville, FL. Not that I have any experience with that.

By the way, Go UF! Take that, FSUMARCHIEF!
So, we check every available pocket, including a passerby's, and conclude that neither of us has the keys. What a terrible feeling, having your stomach drop like that. The last time that happened was about 3 years ago. I was at the Outback eating steak with Kory when I hear him say, "It's over". Had I pulled my face out of the Bloomin' Onion for two seconds I might have heard, "-cooked". But for a minute there....boy was I upset!
We decide that the movies is the likely resting place, so we head back into the Marketplace to their customer service desk. We figure instead of walking all the way back to the Westside (cripes, I want to cry just thinking about it), it's really easier to just call the movies and see if the custodial staff had found them first. After all, we are grubbers and boozers. Too much exercise kills your buzz.
Speaking of, what happens from here on out really is a buzzkill, so I'll fast forward to "We found them, end of story".
But if you are needing to waste some more time at work and prefer a more detailed version, here it is:
Uh, we no look, we no find; how about $5?; well #$*@# you!; my feet hurt; $#*@ you, too!; this Kit-Kat sure is good; wait, don't walk off, don't be mad; COPS!; YOU lost the keys; I heart Wolfgang Puck's bar; my feet hurt; be right back; me no lookie anymore; Excuse me, I need a drink. Any drink. The bigger, the better; not there; look again; I sure want to see Cirque again. Need another drink here!; yes?; yes. In cushions; Sorry; Sorry; Kiss?; Kiss.
Let me tell you, you really didn't want the long version of that. I'm pretty sure we used every dirty word in the book and even made up a few of our own. If you are in the market for a new cuss word, just PM me. I might just write a book.
So, we pull up our bootstraps (part 2) and walk from the Westside back to the Marketplace parking lot. When our cute little white car is in sight, I drop my entire freakin' body in gratitude. Never in my life have I been so happy to see a messy car with bird poop, 100K miles and a tag about to expire.
We open the car door (woohoo!), start the engine (woohoo!), head to our home-away-from-home, and relax with Disney DVC infomercials (me) and nap time (him).
A few hours later, Kory has napped away any attitude and I'm one phone call away from 150 pts. On the agenda? Let's go back to 2004 and reminisce, shall we?
vettechick99's fantastico 2004 report said:I loooooove the Victoria Falls lounge. The waterfall gently crashing behind the bar would make great background noise for doing some shots. If you're into that sort of thing.
Well I'm into that sort of thing, so bring on the AKL! Anything to shake the day of depressing mental-shopping, keys losing and non-DVC buying. Plus we have PS's at Jiko (that's ADR's for you new folks), so it's a natural pit stop before we get our grub on.
We put on some smell-pretty, don our finest outfits, and head out to our car.
I like how Disney paints their bandaids. It almost looks like that board is supposed to be there. Those Imagineers never miss a moment to add an architectural detail!
Once at the hottest resort on property, we park and stroll up to the walkway to the lobby. We step down the staircase into the bar and stop abruptly at the bottom.
"But..huh? There are like two people here. Where is everyone?", Kory asks, looking around.
"Really, I kinda imagined this place to be more happening."
"I'm sure they're coming. They're just lost or something. Hey, I bet they asked that African CM for directions and they all ended up in the boiler room."
Not deterred by the lack of activity, we belly up to the bar and check out the menu. I usually like to sample a bar's signature drink, but I'm not feeling their drinks tonight. Well, I tried, but they called me a perv and told me to go back to my seat. Eventually I decide on an Amaretto Sour and Kory orders a something or another. Booze I think.

We chat absently, trying to avoid the subject of keys. Heck, even words with the letters "keys" in them.
Twenty-five minutes later, we have talked about everything but primates, the other couple has left, and the bartender is doing his taxes, so we pay our tab and head over to Jiko.
What a fabulous looking restaurant! We find the decor attractive and the layout comfortable. We're not all stove up in here like at park restaurants.
Do you guys know what "all stove up" means? Maybe that's a regional slang? Just checking.
Our server greets us and recommends a nice wine for me, the house Shiraz. I'm a house wine kinda gal. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be able to call over the sommelier and ask for a bottle of their finest, except I don't know how to say sommelier. Well, that and I'm middle class. Not upper-middle, mind you, because I'm pretty sure you need an MBA, 2.4 kids, and a Beamer for that. Just middle of the road middle-class. Come to think of it, I might actually be lower middle-class according to my teaching paycheck. Hmmm. Anyway, so I stick to my house wines, since house is a word I can pronounce and one of my favorite tv shows.
Back to the booze, the server suggests and Kory orders the Tusker beer, which he enjoys. In fact, we both enjoy our drink. Two thumbs up to the rockin' server!


Apparently my finest is a jean jacket.
Our dinner progresses with amazing, delicious, fantastic, make ya wanna slap ya mama and grammy spring rolls. I mean this dish is good times. Dinner includes two hearty entrees, the ribs for Kory and a big honkin' piece of steak for me. Hello, this thing is over 2 inches thick. Crickey! Unfortunately, I kinda filled up on the spring rolls so I don't get to really savor my filet.
We leave the restaurant with a full stomach, a doggie bag of a 47 oz filet minus 2 bites, and a half-dozen bones for our hound dog, Grace.
Speaking of, I wonder what she's doing. She'd better not be on the cou...
Oh well, at least she's not drinking. She's too young to drink.
We drive to our home-away-from-home and slip into bed. No late night for us, we are beat! Plus, we are getting up bright and early for our AK day.
Up next, Pam and Snake Eyes sightings and...well this picture speaks for itself.
Part 10, pg 5