The Battle For My Wallet V: Beyond the Number IV (Chapter Eighteen, p.75, 5/18)

[Cindy's Mom]

I'm not sure this was your daughter, but even if it was, it was not her fault.

Zzub - That was very nice of you to post this.

Hope you and your family had a great Christmas.

 

[AshClan]

I am DED. And not a little nauseous. O.M.G. Z, that was both one of the grossest and one of the MOST HYSTERICAL chapters that you have ever written. And that says a lot.

I haven't been around here much at all lately. In fact, this may be my first DIS visit since Thanksgiving(ish). And THIS is what I'm greeted with. Reminds me of why I have loved this TR board so much. And also maybe why I went away for a bite.

LaLa, I love you girl, but you are on supersecretdoubleprobationignore for quoting that disgusting picture. And CampbellScot for quoting the quote. GEESH, guys, wasn't ONCE enough?!?!

The Edible Arrangements pic was cool, though. I love those suckers. Your mom is the coolest.

And the phone book story is, without a doubt, the funniest (and most pathetic) thing I have ever heard. Bless your little idiotic heart. Makes me want to send you a really great care package to make up for it. If only I knew your address. Or your name.

Hope the ZZUBs had a magical, joyous, blessed Christmas. With lots of fresh fruit and no stained bedding. Happy New Year to you and your 3 girls.

 

[Briarmom]

That is a roller coaster of a emotions to go through reading a Trip Report about DisneyWorld!

Fantastic as usual. Even though I have a phobia of vomit.

 

[nicolemarie]

I poured my cup of coffee, eased into my computer chair, and signed onto the DIS ALL without exhaling. The anticipation was that great.

I click onto the TR board, only to find I was DENIED.

No new ZZUB installment.

What's the deal?

Are you still face first in the potato salad and deviled egg leftovers? Are you taking THAT long to write your New Year's resolutions? Are you still figuring out how to get the inflatable Santa off of your roof?

Come on, ZZUB, your fans await...

 

[dizprincess717]

So, I've been a closet Zzub fan but feel the need to step out and say -

This is the funniest thing I've read yet!!! Oh my gosh, if I would have been drinking, said liquid would have been all over my new Mac.

Your TR's are by far the best. Hope you had a wonderful Christmas, Zzub!

...Is it wrong to have glanced at the puke pic and attempt to make a hidden Mickey out of it??

 

[ZZUB]

Chapter Eight: Twenty Years Later

I first went to Disney World when I was three or four depending on which of my parent’s versions of history you believe. Since they both demonstrate a penchant for revisionist history that would make Hillary! or Mitt Romney sit up and take notice, let’s just say I was four and move on from there.

I’m a spry 39 at the moment which means I’ve been going to Disney World for 35 years. I have never, in 35 years of going to the World, ever wanted to stand for a CircleVision 360 movie. I hated them when I was four and I hated them when I was fourteen and I hate them even now.

Hate them.

Not as much as say I hate the thought of losing to Auburn seven years in a row or the thought of a second season of Studio Sixty on the Sunset Strip but at least as much as I hate the thought of never ever sampling a slice of that singular delight: the Tonga Toast.

And so it was that when I finally controlled my own destiny, I stopped going to see those hideous films. Where you had to stand. And look around. And around. And around. I’ve let people talk me into the Tea Cups and a stand up rollercoaster at Kings Dominion and a backwards rollercoaster at Six Flags and even Winnie the Pooh, but I refuse to ever set foot inside a CircleVision film again.

Not that anyone has asked, mind you.

I have friends dumb enough to believe Al Gore is right (despite his lack of any true scientific education or training), dumb enough to go to Auburn, dumb enough to let their kids go to Auburn, dumb enough to think the Pac Ten is superior to the SEC, dumb enough to think eating organic will make them live longer, and dumb enough to drive a Prius. I have no friends dumb enough to suggest going into a CircleVision 360 movie.

And I was just kidding about that other thing. I don’t have any friends dumb enough to think Al Gore is right.

In other words, I have been avoiding CircleVision movies now for at least 20 years. It may be more. I can’t remember exactly the last time I stood in one spot and looked around, and around, and around. Spinning like a record, right ‘round like a record. Baby.

But it’s been at least 20 years.

Which brings me, oddly enough, to Monsters, Inc. Laugh Floor. While I’ve been in the lobby of what used to be called the Timekeeper (to meet Buzz Lightyear, of course), I haven’t been in the CircleVision theatre there for about 20 years.

Which is roughly as long as it took for me to set this story up.

I read really mixed reviews of the Laugh Floor but my sister and her family had been in there earlier and she had really good things to say about it. I’m not a ride/show critic, but I will say the lobby has a bit of a cheap feel to it. I get the theme that the Monsters are putting on a talent show and it’s supposed to look amateurish, but ultimately the effect is more like buying a tie at Wal*Mart. From a distance, a good distance, you might confuse it for a tie you’d pick up at JCPenney, but upon closer inspection, you see it for what it is.

We wormed our way through the queue where the most interesting thing we saw was this dude who had a Mickey head and confetti in his hair. I’ve long said that being in Disney World does strange things to otherwise normal people. I don’t wear Disney related t-shirts in the real world, but have no qualms sporting a monster sized Mickey Mouse when we’re on vacation. But this . . . well, I’ll leave it to you to judge.

After we cleared the queue, they herded us into a hallway with some pretty interesting things like this Schpupin! sized doorway, ostensibly for Mike Wazowski.

Then we entered the theatre and found the show pretty enjoyable. We caught it twice during our trip and liked it both times. It’s actually very fun and funny. We did have good audiences both times and I think that makes a difference. If you’re stuck with a bunch of humorless, angry partisans, then I reckon the Laugh Floor would be as enjoyable as the Yearly Kos convention. If, however, the people in the theater are having a good time, you’re likely to enjoy yourself.

Or not. Who knows?

But we did. After a decades long hiatus, I was glad to be back in the theater that no longer had a CircleVision 360 presentation.

When the show ended, the crowd raced out of the theater faster than the media could jump on the Obama bandwagon. We locked arms and calmly made our way outside only to find our strollers had moved. Again.

I hate Disney World.

I left my wife and girls and I walked upstream, like a salmon, to Rocket Tower Plaza where strollers in Tomorrowland go to play. After carefully searching, I found both of our strollers and then the flaw in my plan revealed itself. I had to maneuver both strollers, through heavy traffic and, I think, a marching band, back to the Laugh Floor. I don’t know, maybe there’s a better way to accomplish this. I slept through both Introduction to Stroller Movement and Special Problems in Stroller Movement during my undergraduate years at Alabama. Instead, I relied upon my much ballyhooed massive upper body strength to steer each stroller with one hand.

I found my family and once the girls were strapped in, we headed over the bridge toward the Hub. Where people were already lining up for SpectroMagic. We crossed through and around the Hub and then headed around the other side of the Castle towards Fantasyland. We dumped the strollers and were trying to decide whether we were going to Small World or Mickey’s Philharmagic. I asked the CM how long until the next show and she said, “2 minutes.” I grabbed my wife and the two girls, hoisted them up on my shoulders and ran like it was Black Friday and there was a $400 laptop waiting at the end of the roped off queue.

Massive. Upper body strength.

We hit the lobby area right as they were about to close the doors. The place was about half full and most of the people were sitting in the middle. My wife thought it might be too loud for the baby and wanted to be by the exit in case she needed to make a quick escape. So we walked around the back to the other side and took three end seats right by a door. We got seated right as the show was beginning.

It was great as always. And nothing extraordinary or offensive happened. Unless you consider someone unleashing the power during the movie, hoping the smell would be immediately masked by the cheap cherry smell during the “Be Our Guest” segment, offensive. It was also around that point that my wife took Baby ZZUB and fled the jurisdiction. ZZUBY, for her part, held her 3D glasses tightly, taking them on and off. Afraid to commit one way or the other.

I laughed loudly. As usual.

When it was over, we decided to skip another run on Small World and head to Pirates of The Caribbean. Not to be confused with Pirates of the Caribbean.

What? You don’t know the difference? Neither did I. But when I stopped in Wal*Mart to pick up Pirates on DVD, I asked the gal, “Do you have Pirates of the Caribbean? I can’t find it.”

She said, “We don’t have Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“You don’t?” I wondered.

“No, but we do have Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

I stared at her. “Is that comedy? Are you trying to be funny?”

“No. I’ve never heard of Pirates of the Caribbean. Just Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

“Do you realize that it’s the same movie? You’re just pronouncing Caribbean, Car-a-be-un.”

“Oh.”

“Tomato, tuh-mah-to. You really didn’t know that?”

“Unh-unh.”

“You need to go back to school and demand your teachers give you a better education.”

She giggled and walked back into the sea of humanity that is the blue vested Wal*Mart crowd.

We continued our walk through the dark night of Frontierland and then cut through to Adventureland past the counter service place that does NOT sell Dole Whips although for three years, that’s what I thought they were pedaling. We continued our way towards the Pirates plaza and once there, we discovered Baby ZZUB was out.

Being the magnanimous, super guy I am, I offered to stay with the baby so my wife could ride Pirates with ZZUBY. She didn't get to ride it last year and I did. I parked myself on a bench, put my foot on the base of Baby ZZUB’s stroller facing me, and figured I’d enjoy a little end-of-the-night people watching. You know, when parents are cranky and the kids are tired. And hot. And no one wants to do what anyone else wants to do and the mom is screeching that she doesn’t want to miss “the parade,” even though she already has and the dad is kvetching because he can’t find the Splash Mountain fastpasses anywhere in his fanny pack he never should have thrown up in.

That is until Gary Greasynails sat down next to me. Marlboro Red fully ablaze. Mind you, this section of the park had plenty of other places for him to choose to inhale toxic fumes and exhale poisonous smoke. I first confirmed that I hadn’t parked myself in a designated smoking area. Then I gave him The Look.

He was oblivious. As most people who receive The Look often are.

So I said, “Lookit. I don’t wanna be a jerk, but my 6 month old daughter is right here. Do you mind?”

I should point out that unlike the tone I took with the phone solicitor who had the temerity to call me ZZUB instead of Mr. ZZUB when clearly he had no personal relationship with me and had no business calling be by my first name like we were long lost friends from high school, I was pretty nice with Gary Greasynails.

Gary, however, was piqued. Like he had just lost the Iowa caucuses to a relative political neophyte who was just three years removed from the Illinois State Legislature. He didn’t say a word to me. Instead he got up and walked over towards his wife/girlfriend/sister? and their kids and complained that I asked him to move. His wife/girlfriend/sister suggested he just go to one of the other half dozen places in the area to slowly kill himself. No! He was adamant. The mood had been ruined. He put out his cigarette with foul indignation and decided to join his wife/girlfriend/sister and the kids on Pirates.

He showed me.

Eventually, my wife and ZZUBY came out and I regaled them with my adventures in second hand smoke. It was now about 9:35 and we wanted to get a spot for Wishes! We headed through Adventureland, past both the faux Dole Whip stand and the real one, lamenting my lack of hunger the entire time. For some reason, I was still full from dinner. Which was strange. Like the fact that when I was in college, U2’s Joshua Tree was one of my favorite tapes but I’ve never gotten it on CD. 20 years of listening to it over and over and over again on tape, but never on CD because when I got it from Columbia House during my freshman year at Alabama, I didn’t yet have a CD player. And although I loved that tape more than the promises that Rogaine would work, I never replaced it with the CD.

Until Mrs. ZZUB asked me what I wanted for Christmas and my list was even shorter than Mike Huckabee’s list of foreign policy credentials. So in order to round it out, I put down U2 Joshua Tree CD. And the woman came through.

As we neared the Crystal Palace, Mrs. Z said she wanted to take the baby in the Baby Care Center (hereinafter: BCC) to change her dipper. We parked ourselves on the little wrought iron fence around the flowers by Casey’s. It looked like an interesting angle to watch Wishes! from. No sooner had we got situated when the smell of hot dogs overwhelmed me. I’m so suggestible to food smells. Although I wasn’t hungry just 5 minutes earlier for a Dole Whip, the smell of the dogs had me craving sauerkraut. So I told my wife to hang out for a minute with ZZUBY and the strollers while I went into Casey’s.

There was hardly a line which was odd, because in my experience, that time of night draws massive lines. Also odd was my decision to pay cash instead of using one of our free dining credits. I don’t know what happened. I was waiting in line and trying to visualize my Dining Plan spreadsheet and figure out which meal in the future would be affected if I used a credit here.

Should I buy a meal or just a dog?

Should I charge it to my room or use the 20 ducks burning a hole in my pocket?

Demonstrating decision making skills that would make the Prince of Denmark envious, I decided to just get a dog, a brownie, and a couple of pops. I paid cash because I had it.

I could write at length about the nostalgic effect of being in Casey’s. How when I was a little kid, the hotdogs I ate there were the best dogs I ate all year long. How, like the bathroom at Chef Mickey’s, I always try to walk in there, even if I don’t buy anything. How the first time I brought my then girlfriend Mrs. Z to Disney World, we had lunch there and she foolishly got in the longest line while I walked over to the much shorter one. She alleges that I pulled her by her purse over to my line. She is, of course, a liar and you should not believe her tales.

Once outside, I consumed my Casey dog in about 4 bites. It was good. My wife took off for the BCC and ZZUBY and I leaned against the rail and enjoyed the brownie.

That is, until a noxious smell crept up from behind and kicked us in the head. I turned around to find a middle-aged couple enjoying nicotine and tar which Phillip Morris executives had no idea were addictive. They were leaning on the railing over by Crystal Palace. I couldn’t tell if they were in a smoking area or not, although I didn’t think they were. Either way, the smoke found me again. I felt like this girl Katie, I knew from college. She was a fart magnet.

One time on a retreat, about 25 of us were sitting on the floor of this cabin while a speaker presented information on leadership somethinornuther. It was after lunchtime and I had one in the chamber. I held onto it as long as I could. Then I got distracted and there was some seepage. Not a full blown fart, mind you. Just the high pitched squeal of air leaking. Like a balloon. I was sitting next to Katie at the time. No sooner had the tell-tale peep of escaping flatus announced its presence than our team leader, sitting across from me, looked up and right at me. I was marked.

Later on, same retreat, my buddy John (who was dating Katie at the time) was standing in front of one of the cabins talking with his buddy Dave and Dave’s girlfriend. John had to fart and didn’t want to break wind on Dave’s girlfriend. So, for reasons only he understands, John opened the door to the cabin, stuck his backend in the door and let ‘er rip.

Guess who was inside the cabin writing in her journal at the time? That’s right, John's soon-to-be-ex girlfriend, Katie.

About two months later, a bunch of us were over a friend’s house listening to music. My buddy Troy was sitting next to Katie this time. Apparently believing himself protected by the anonymity afforded by the close proximity of other people, Troy thought he could sneak out a little excess. He was wrong. He chose the exact moment the music went quiet. And everyone heard Troy’s dinner come back for an encore.

Especially Katie who, if memory serves, actually turned to look at him. Glare really.

Katie’s name thus became synonymous with farting. Because we were sure there was something about her body chemistry which drew the flatulence out of us. She was a fart magnet. And thereafter, whenever one of us broke wind, we’d immediately look around and ask, “is Katie here?” Or, “dude! Did you Katie?”

And so was I that night with second hand smoke. I thought I’d wait out these people but right around the time they finished their cigarettes, three more people lit up. ZZUBY and I pushed our strollers over to the BCC and then went inside to tell my wife we were moving. She decided she was going to just hang out in there with the baby during the fireworks. So we piled our stuff in one stroller and left the other one in front of the BCC. The plan was for my wife to meet us afterwards. ZZUBY and I went to stand by the street with no name so we could watch Wishes!

ZZUBY loves her some Wishes! now although she still doesn’t care for the loud noises. And she’s creeped out by the scary part. We found our spot and hung out waiting for the show. We struck up a conversation with the family next to us. Because we’re ZZUBs and we do that.

Wishes! was as good as it always is. One thing ZZUBY and I find funny is how many people think the mini-climax is the end. Inevitably, we have to tell people, “it’s not over.” And so it was that night. The little family to our left started to pack it up at that point and we told them to hang out, there’s more. When it was actually over, ten minutes later, the dad thanked us. We said goodbye and moved to the side to see if we could find Mrs. Z.

Who, as usual, was nowhere to be found.

I love my wife more than life itself. But if she has one fault (we’ll call it a quirk), it’s her flexible relationship with time. So it was no great surprise that when we walked into the nearest Mainstreet shop, she was not there. We moved to the side and I called her cell phone. She was still in the BCC. So ZZUBY and I swam upstream again, moving past desperate tourists who still hadn’t found what they were looking for. We stopped in that sports store right behind Casey’s and I called Mrs. Z to tell her to meet us in there. After awhile, she found us and together, we moved with the masses which were headed, it seemed, to the Emporium.

I checked outside but it was still ridiculously crowded with people running like a river to the sea, trying to escape the now-less-than-magical kingdom. We decided to bide our time in the relative cool of the Emporium. Baby ZZUB was wide awake in America and ZZUBY was having a tough time deciding just which stuffed animal of the 8,000 on display, that she wanted. Eventually we finished our shopping and moved out into a mostly empty Mainstreet. I was so very grateful that we had but a few more steps to the boat launch, which I have frequently touted as the closest transportation from the MK.

But once outside the gates of the MK, we saw the darkened boat launch and feared the worst. Two nautical looking CMs were heading out as we approached and I asked about the next boat. Yeah, that’s right. They stop running at 11:00.

Makes perfect sense. No one ever stays behind to avoid the post-fireworks crush. And if they do, they should be punished for not getting caught up in the stampede.

I remind you: we pay dearly to go on "vacation" at Disney World.

They directed us towards the busses. With blistered feet and bruised egos, we headed towards the Wilderness Lodge bus stop.

And ran into the arms of America.

______

Click Here For Chapter Nine:

 

[ncsjodi]

Wow, ZZUB! That one was definitely worth the wait! I think the Katie part was one of the funniest things I've ever read in my entire life! I almost woke up my girls upstairs laughing so hard. Luckily, DH was reading it at the same time, so at least he knew why I was falling out of my chair!

Thanks for keeping us entertained!

 

[LouDisney]

Great update as always.
Happy New Year ZZUB.

 

[beckanoah]

I'm just going to highlight and bold my favorite parts of this. Having massive quoting issues!


I first went to Disney World when I was three or four depending on which of my parent’s versions of history you believe. Since they both demonstrate a penchant for revisionist history that would make Hillary! or Mitt Romney sit up and take notice, let’s just say I was four and move on from there.

LOL

I have friends dumb enough to believe Al Gore is right (despite his lack of any true scientific education or training), dumb enough to go to Auburn, dumb enough to let their kids go to Auburn, dumb enough to think the Pac Ten is superior to the SEC, dumb enough to think eating organic will make them live longer, and dumb enough to drive a Prius. I have no friends dumb enough to suggest going into a CircleVision 360 movie.

And I was just kidding about that other thing. I don’t have any friends dumb enough to think Al Gore is right.

For a minute there, I was worried about your friends.


I left my wife and girls and I walked upstream, like a salmon, to Rocket Tower Plaza where strollers in Tomorrowland go to play. After carefully searching, I found both of our strollers and then the flaw in my plan revealed itself. I had to maneuver both strollers, through heavy traffic and, I think, a marching band, back to the Laugh Floor. I don’t know, maybe there’s a better way to accomplish this. I slept through both Introduction to Stroller Movement and Special Problems in Stroller Movement during my undergraduate years at Alabama. Instead, I relied upon my much ballyhooed massive upper body strength to steer each stroller with one hand.

LOL again!

When it was over, we decided to skip another run on Small World and head to Pirates of The Caribbean. Not to be confused with Pirates of the Caribbean.

What? You don’t know the difference? Neither did I. But when I stopped in Wal*Mart to pick up Pirates on DVD, I asked the gal, “Do you have Pirates of the Caribbean? I can’t find it.”

She said, “We don’t have Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“You don’t?” I wondered.

“No, but we do have Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

I stared at her. “Is that comedy? Are you trying to be funny?”

“No. I’ve never heard of Pirates of the Caribbean. Just Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

“Do you realize that it’s the same movie? You’re just pronouncing Caribbean, Car-a-be-un.”

“Oh.”

“Tomato, tuh-mah-to. You really didn’t know that?”

“Unh-unh.”

“You need to go back to school and demand your teachers give you a better education.”

She giggled and walked back into the sea of humanity that is the blue vested Wal*Mart crowd.

That's the funniest thing ever!


I felt like this girl Katie, I knew from college. She was a fart magnet.

One time on a retreat, about 25 of us were sitting on the floor of this cabin while a speaker presented information on leadership somethinornuther. It was after lunchtime and I had one in the chamber. I held onto it as long as I could. Then I got distracted and there was some seepage. Not a full blown fart, mind you. Just the high pitched squeal of air leaking. Like a balloon. I was sitting next to Katie at the time. No sooner had the tell-tale peep of escaping flatus announced its presence than our team leader, sitting across from me, looked up and right at me. I was marked.

Later on, same retreat, my buddy John (who was dating Katie at the time) was standing in front of one of the cabins talking with his buddy Dave and Dave’s girlfriend. John had to fart and didn’t want to break wind on Dave’s girlfriend. So, for reasons only he understands, John opened the door to the cabin, stuck his backend in the door and let ‘er rip.

Guess who was inside the cabin writing in her journal at the time? That’s right, John's soon-to-be-ex girlfriend, Katie.

About two months later, a bunch of us were over a friend’s house listening to music. My buddy Troy was sitting next to Katie this time. Apparently believing himself protected by the anonymity afforded by the close proximity of other people, Troy thought he could sneak out a little excess. He was wrong. He chose the exact moment the music went quiet. And everyone heard Troy’s dinner come back for an encore.

Especially Katie who, if memory serves, actually turned to look at him. Glare really.

Katie’s name thus became synonymous with farting. Because we were sure there was something about her body chemistry which drew the flatulence out of us. She was a fart magnet. And thereafter, whenever one of us broke wind, we’d immediately look around and ask, “is Katie here?” Or, “dude! Did you Katie?”

Until THAT!

 

[CRSNDSNY]

VERY entertaining as usual!

Love your conversation with the WalMart clerk. Priceless!

 

[CampbellScot]

Did the people who pooted during Philharmagic have red hair and a need to compete for the award of most foul people EVEr? If so...they stood in front of us in line for the Nemo ride. I SWEAR we were at Disney during the same time Zzub! Cuz I'm pretty sure we met up with same rude smoker too! Good for you for telling the rule breaking SMOKER to move his life ending bad choice elsewhere!

The whole Katie thing had me laughing so hard that my dog barked at me...as he doesn't appreciate it when I laugh when he is trying to sleep...seriously...made my face hurt. Poor Katie...what a thing to have linked to oneself!

The comments about Al Gore had me in similar hysterics. I'm not in Texas anymore, so it's a rare thing to find genuine humor about a man that seems to have halos overhead and angel choirs following him wherever he may go! However undeserved they may be...*ahem*



thanks for starting off my Monday with a snort laugh!!!

hope you had a wonderful holiday season!!!

 

[alldiz]

Worth the wait.....

that was some serious funny.....
thanks for sharing....made my day...
poor katie
Kerri

 

[nicolemarie]

Way to go, ZZUB!!

That installment was hilarious. And worth the wait...

I KNEW IT!! I had a feeling we were there at the same time! That's my man, right there! He loves him some Mickey Mouse in his hair. To match his Mickey Mouse crocs.

Or does he?

From a distance, a good distance, you might confuse it for a tie you’d pick up at JCPenney, but upon closer inspection, you see it for what it is.

Whew. I was REAL happy to see your edit. Because I was about to assume you thought you could pick up a nice tie at JCP.

As if.

“Do you have Pirates of the Caribbean? I can’t find it.”

She said, “We don’t have Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“You don’t?” I wondered.

“No, but we do have Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

I stared at her. “Is that comedy? Are you trying to be funny?”

“No. I’ve never heard of Pirates of the Caribbean. Just Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

“Do you realize that it’s the same movie? You’re just pronouncing Caribbean, Car-a-be-un.”

“Oh.”

“Tomato, tuh-mah-to. You really didn’t know that?”

“Unh-unh.”

“You need to go back to school and demand your teachers give you a better education.”

This was hilarious. And though I'd certainly RECOGNIZE that the two pronunciations are for the same movie, I gotta go with the Walmart gal on this one.

Does ANYONE call it Pirates of the CaRIBbean? With the emphasis on the "RIB?" I know I'm a redneck from Georgia, but I'm pretty sure I've never heard it pronounced that way.

I was waiting in line and trying to visualize my Dining Plan spreadsheet and figure out which meal in the future would be affected if I used a credit here.

This little sentence. This simple little insertion of your Disney planning geekness had me rolling with laughter. Because I can SO relate.

But if she has one fault (we’ll call it a quirk), it’s her flexible relationship with time.

Flexible relationship with time. DED!

But once outside the gates of the MK, we saw the darkened boat launch and feared the worst. Two nautical looking CMs were heading out as we approached and I asked about the next boat. Yeah, that’s right. They stop running at 11:00.

What? This makes me tired, irritated and angry FOR YOU. And I'm sitting here in my comfy chair drinking coffee and feeling fully rested. That sucks. No two ways about it.

But I'm surprised that you didn't know about it ahead of time.

Rookie.

And ran into the arms of America.

Dodging all the bullets in the blue sky...
_________________

What a great way to start my Monday morning! I'm high from laughter and coffee, and ready to download some U2 to my Ipod before my morning run.

Thanks for the laughs, ZZUB. Great installment!

 

[mikymouse]

I don’t know what happened. I was waiting in line and trying to visualize my Dining Plan spreadsheet and figure out which meal in the future would be affected if I used a credit here.

Should I buy a meal or just a dog?

Should I charge it to my room or use the 20 ducks burning a hole in my pocket?

This is soooo me.....

I love my wife more than life itself. But if she has one fault (we’ll call it a quirk), it’s her flexible relationship with time.

This is sooo my DH..I am going to HAVE to use that one to describe his quirk!

Wonderful Update. Loving all the baby tips. Happy New Year to you and your girls. I am glad update Monday is back!

 

[camelotcats]

Dude, you had me laughing so hard, I almost Katie-d.

Sorry about the obnoxious smokers.

 

[DISNEYDUET]

Chapter Eight: Twenty Years Later
I first went to Disney World when I was three or four depending on which of my parent’s versions of history you believe. Since they both demonstrate a penchant for revisionist history that would make Hillary! or Mitt Romney sit up and take notice, let’s just say I was four and move on from there.

Ah yes, I know this well. My father,being a minister, seems to equate everything in a Biblical timeline. "You know the year of the great flood, that was the year that your brother threw up on Space Mountain" and so on.

a stand up rollercoaster at Kings Dominion

I was never tall enough to ride the Shock Wave (i think that was the name of it )

I read really mixed reviews of the Laugh Floor but my sister and her family had been in there earlier and she had really good things to say about it. I’m not a ride/show critic, but I will say the lobby has a bit of a cheap feel to it. I get the theme that the Monsters are putting on a talent show and it’s supposed to look amateurish, but ultimately the effect is more like buying a tie at Wal*Mart. From a distance, a good distance, you might confuse it for a tie you’d pick up at JCPenney, but upon closer inspection, you see it for what it is.

Couldn't agree more. It is almost like they ran out of time and/or money and just threw it together

I’ve long said that being in Disney World does strange things to otherwise normal people. I don’t wear Disney related t-shirts in the real world, but have no qualms sporting a monster sized Mickey Mouse when we’re on vacation.

That wasn't you at the mall the other day with an Eeyore sweatshirt on?

When it was over, we decided to skip another run on Small World and head to Pirates of The Caribbean. Not to be confused with Pirates of the Caribbean.

What? You don’t know the difference? Neither did I. But when I stopped in Wal*Mart to pick up Pirates on DVD, I asked the gal, “Do you have Pirates of the Caribbean? I can’t find it.”

She said, “We don’t have Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“You don’t?” I wondered.

“No, but we do have Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

I stared at her. “Is that comedy? Are you trying to be funny?”

“No. I’ve never heard of Pirates of the Caribbean. Just Pirates of the Car-a-be-un.”

“Do you realize that it’s the same movie? You’re just pronouncing Caribbean, Car-a-be-un.”

“Oh.”

“Tomato, tuh-mah-to. You really didn’t know that?”

“Unh-unh.”

“You need to go back to school and demand your teachers give you a better education.”

She giggled and walked back into the sea of humanity that is the blue vested Wal*Mart crowd.

And this is just another reason why I don't shop at Walmart. That and their dependence on Chinese goods and child slave labor. You know it takes a lot of little hands to make that JCP knock off tie you are so fond of.

That is until Gary Greasynails sat down next to me. Marlboro Red fully ablaze. Mind you, this section of the park had plenty of other places for him to choose to inhale toxic fumes and exhale poisonous smoke. I first confirmed that I hadn’t parked myself in a designated smoking area. Then I gave him The Look.

He was oblivious. As most people who receive The Look often are.

So I said, “Lookit. I don’t wanna be a jerk, but my 6 month old daughter is right here. Do you mind?”

I should point out that unlike the tone I took with the phone solicitor who had the temerity to call me ZZUB instead of Mr. ZZUB when clearly he had no personal relationship with me and had no business calling be by my first name like we were long lost friends from high school, I was pretty nice with Gary Greasynails.

Gary, however, was piqued. Like he had just lost the Iowa caucuses to a relative political neophyte who was just three years removed from the Illinois State Legislature. He didn’t say a word to me. Instead he got up and walked over towards his wife/girlfriend/sister? and their kids and complained that I asked him to move. His wife/girlfriend/sister suggested he just go to one of the other half dozen places in the area to slowly kill himself. No! He was adamant. The mood had been ruined. He put out his cigarette with foul indignation and decided to join his wife/girlfriend/sister and the kids on Pirates.

Some people just don't get it. Like the people who shove your family out of the way so that THEIR kids can have a better view of the parade. Because they were too busy riding the teacups to pay attention to the time. Or standing in a long line in Caseys.

But once outside the gates of the MK, we saw the darkened boat launch and feared the worst. Two nautical looking CMs were heading out as we approached and I asked about the next boat. Yeah, that’s right. They stop running at 11:00.

What! Mr Terrific Disney Dad didn't know that!! I might as well stop reading after this revelation.

They directed us towards the busses. With blistered feet and bruised egos, we headed towards the Wilderness Lodge bus stop.

And ran into the arms of America.

Otherwise known as Dante's Fourth Circle of Hell

 

[DisneyWorld Delight]

Let's see, who didn't you offend this time? Oh, yeah. You didn't harass the Pop Princess. This time.

Is there going to be another season of Studio 60? I hadn't heard anything, but I was so hoping.

GO BUCKS!

 

[Montana Disney Fan]

I loved all the political references.

That really SUX missing the boat to WL.

One can only imagine what the bus depot of MK looks like right after park closing.

Never been there... Never will...


Side Note: Bama won their bowl game! This has been a while though as I think the game occurred sometime back in October.

 

[CJsMom]

I used to like the name Katie. Just like I used to like the bathroom in Canada (Epcot's version). Will anything be left sacred by the end of this trip report?

I'd like to but I can't do it.

 

[dismorgh]

I have friends dumb enough to believe Al Gore is right (despite his lack of any true scientific education or training)
And I was just kidding about that other thing. I don’t have any friends dumb enough to think Al Gore is right.

Well that's good to know. I don't either.

In other words, I have been avoiding CircleVision movies now for at least 20 years. It may be more. I can’t remember exactly the last time I stood in one spot and looked around, and around, and around. Spinning like a record, right ‘round like a record. Baby.

Hmmm, we seem to like them. You know you don't really have to spin around in them, right? You really don't miss anything by simply looking forward.

Which is roughly as long as it took for me to set this story up.

Now that is certainly true.

I read really mixed reviews of the Laugh Floor but my sister and her family had been in there earlier and she had really good things to say about it.

We haven't been yet, but it is on our list for this year. We are hoping for a "good" audience.

I slept through both Introduction to Stroller Movement and Special Problems in Stroller Movement during my undergraduate years at Alabama. Instead, I relied upon my much ballyhooed massive upper body strength to steer each stroller with one hand.

Now don't you feel bad for sleeping in class.

That is until Gary Greasynails sat down next to me. Marlboro Red fully ablaze. Mind you, this section of the park had plenty of other places for him to choose to inhale toxic fumes and exhale poisonous smoke. I first confirmed that I hadn’t parked myself in a designated smoking area. Then I gave him The Look.

I smoked for over 30 years before finally quitting about a year and a half ago, and I would just NEVER have considered it good form to smoke in a non-smoking area around people that obviously don't want to smell it. And around a baby?!?!?!?

He showed me.

Oh yeah, he sure did!

Demonstrating decision making skills that would make the Prince of Denmark envious, I decided to just get a dog, a brownie, and a couple of pops. I paid cash because I had it.

The Prince of Denmark has decision making skills?

Once outside, I consumed my Casey dog in about 4 bites. It was good. My wife took off for the BCC and ZZUBY and I leaned against the rail and enjoyed the brownie.

Casey's = gud.

Katie’s name thus became synonymous with farting. Because we were sure there was something about her body chemistry which drew the flatulence out of us. She was a fart magnet.

Wow, who'da thunk you would go here.

We found our spot and hung out waiting for the show. We struck up a conversation with the family next to us. Because we’re ZZUBs and we do that.

Me, too!

They directed us towards the busses. With blistered feet and bruised egos, we headed towards the Wilderness Lodge bus stop.

And ran into the arms of America.
-

Great update, ZZUB! Hope y'all have a great New Year, and yes, Bama won their bowl game.