As I've mentioned, I was supposed to go to Disney back in November but little Toogin (not his real name)got sick and we postponed the trip. Fortunately, we had travel insurance that cost me $300 so, when Disney moved the dates and jet blue changed our flights for a total cost of $215, I was refunded the $215. Wait, what? That's right, I paid $300 to be refunded $215. In other words, travel insurance with Disney is a waste of money.
Anyway, we're planning on going next week. We've put the house on lock down. No play dates, no visits with friends or family. The kids go to school and come home. The wife has, brilliantly, opted to not try and set up interviews out of fear of picking up some ailment. We've even extended our no kissing rule to further prevent the spread of any diseases.
We'll all come down with typhus next Wednesday but we're still going to the house of mouse. I'm not going thru this build up to this crap again. While the wife and kids are all excited and working themselves up to some orgiastic frenzy, I am dreading this trip. For starters there's the boot. The fucking boot. The big, plastic, life altering boot. I fucking hate it. Of course, on the bright side, I'll probably get a tan. I hear Hell is lovely this time of year.
So, yeah, I'm fucking miserable.
To make matters worse, I turn 40 next month. I could care less about it. No, I am not one of those guys who thinks he looks better, feels better etc now that I am 40. On the contrary, I think I peaked when I was 20 or so. Sure I was crack addict thin but I had a great head of hair and all my teeth so I was a healthy crack addict. I did have my fat period between then and now and, yes, I probably do look better now than I did 10 or 15 years ago but it serves no purpose. It's not like I'm out getting laid as a result of it. Even my hands are rejecting me these days.
So, anyway, I'm turning 40 and my wife is all over it like flies on a ribroast (points for naming the movie). She wants me to have a party. A big birthday bash like the one I threw for her when she turned 40. I told her I wasn't really interested in something like that. I've never been a big fan of birthdays. Might have something to do with my parents always saying it was my birthday when we'd eat in restaurants where the waiters sang to the birthday kid. I was always so fucking humiliated by the attention. Another big issue I have with this party is that I'd be throwing it for myself. So, she is, basically, just planning it for me and I have to pay for it.
And I don't want to waste my money on it.
What I want, for my birthday, is to go somewhere. Alone.
New Orleans for jazz fest perhaps.
Vegas maybe.
Me and a few friends. No wives, no kids. No $150 a head, $6500 minimum, bar not included. No space limit but we have to invite....
Fuck all of them. I don't want the attention, I don't want the bill.
Maybe we'll celebrate in Disney. I'll get drunk and fuck minnie. I hear she's a real whore. Then I can come back here, blog about it and the two people who read this can laugh at my expense.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
I'm pointing at you, does that count?
what a gut buster. I can only hope you wouldn't violate minnie in front of everybody.
However, I can't figure out if that scenario is bestiality at it's best or worst.
On another note, birthday considerations. Vegas can be a lot of fun, drink for free at the tables or slots, and positive you can do better than $150 a head there. Crude, i know, but that's what vegas is there for, and we do keep some wild secrets.
I only published one of the gut buster comments because I can't imaging you commented twice on purpose. 8AM my time, that must be, what 5 or 4 am in vegas? Late night partying? Too much to drink, too much fun? Whatever the case, welcome to the blog, enjoy my misery.
Where do I find you in Vegas?
I frequent the blackjack tables at the mirage maybe a couple nights a week, when i can drag my friends from the slots.
Other than that, I'm around. It's hard to stand still in the city that never sleeps, where liquor flows like water in the big-ass fountain by the strip. Oh, there's always fun to be had.
well, now I want to go to Vegas. I want to lose money at the black jack tables, make it up by getting free booze and puking in the "big-ass fountain."
I still need some time to shake the middle america from my system. I need to get the image of obese people eating giant turkey legs erased from my psyche and I need to go one full night without dreaming of being trampled by fat people trying to get cream cheese filled pretzels.
Post a Comment