Thank you, WebHill!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 10
The room also includes a copy of this generic local promotional magazine:
(click to enlarge)
Take a good look at the cover, and notice how none of the people watching the clown look even remotely entertained. In fact, the person immediately behind and to the right of Bozo is falling asleep. Now, maybe this is because the only seats they could get were facing the clown’s ass, but you’d think the photographer could try for more enthusiasm.
On a random note, I forgot to write about one of the kids' favorite things at LegoLand: The Fire Academy. This 2 minute
Today we walked around Las Vegas.
Going through the shopping areas is always interesting. In the Flamingo’s lobby they have a sex shop, featuring a doorway made to look like a very tall lady’s legs:
And inside the mannequins (love the adult diaper) are about to get it on:
A store over at Caesar's Palace is debuting the latest in womens’ fashion, which apparently involves wearing a large purse on your head.
This afternoon the kids wanted to hit the pool again. After passing several people trying to sell us timeshares (I’m in a fucking bathing suit, and DO NOT want to stop and talk to you here in the middle of the damn lobby) we got there.
The Excalibur has a bizarre layout where people in tower 1 have to walk through THE WHOLE DAMN CASINO to get to the pool. Tower 2 is right there. Why they don’t have an entrance at each end of the building (when the pool obviously connects to both sides) is beyond me. Because I’d think that seeing yours truly go by wearing nothing more than a bathing suit and flip-flops would scare people away from the slot machines.
We got down to the pools, and were reassured by a look at the lifeguards: there were 5 of them at the one the kids went to: One was busy texting, another was filing her nails, and a third was wearing, I swear, knee-high socks and high-top basketball sneakers. This is not something you normally see in an occupation that requires you to quickly jump in the water at random intervals.
After reassuring Craig that his hair looked fine, I went into the pool myself. There was a row of teenyboppers sitting at the front, cleverly stationed there by plastic surgeons to show off the coming 2012 line of breast implants. Across from them, as a public service announcement to use sunscreen, was a lady who looked like a bizarre cross between a Barbie doll, Charles Atlas, and a leather purse. After one look at her I wanted to buy out the Coolibar catalog.
The only real winner we had in Las Vegas was Marie, who over the course of 3 days found $9.80 in change at the bottom of the Excalibur’s pools.
As we walked back through the lobby, dripping wet, in swimsuits, some time-share guy blocked our path to ask “Hey! Have you guys been at the pool?” ("No, you moron, it was raining over by the buffet"). I don’t know what look it was that I gave him, but he backed off fast.
Tonight we went down to the medieval-themed arcade. When I was a kid the games were 25 cents each. Now they’re $2.
These places are always frightening to me because Marie is the MASTER of crane games (“be the crane, Squidward”). So we knew we’d be leaving with a few small stuffed animals. But we weren’t prepared to see her show up with this giant basketball (Diet Coke can placed for comparison) that she won.
Mrs. Grumpy and I exchanged the “How the hell are we going to get that on the plane?” look, so common to parents in these situations.
After a strenuous time playing arcade games, the tribe apparently thought we were on a cruise, and wanted to go for pizza, grilled cheese, and ice cream. So we went to the coffee shop, where Marie argued with the waiter that she also wanted bacon, even though it wasn't breakfast. And some chocolate chip cookies. She gave him some soggy coins from the pool as a tip.
And so, from somewhere in the Excalibur hotel, happy Summer Vacation to all, and to all a good night.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 9
After getting hosed for $100 (and that was cheap by Vegas standards, obviously) at a mediocre buffet last night, we were in no mood to try another. So we took the kids to McD’s for breakfast. The 4 bags they gave us seemed a little unusual for the 5 items we’d ordered, but I took them and wandered back to the table... Where Mrs. Grumpy discovered that, in addition to our regular order, we’d been given 27 orders of hash browns.
If you’re a McD’s shareholder who lost money on the error (or an Idaho potato farmer who made some) I must say it was unintentional and not my fault.
This is the lobby carpeting at the Excalibur. It’s a meaningless design, unless you’re a neurologist. Then it looks like a drawing of a nerve cell releasing packets of neurotransmitters across the synapse.
In a sign that all rock groups eventually sell out, the Excalibur is building "Lynard Skynard's Barbecue" (Freebird chicken sandwich, anyone?). Not that I have anything against selling-out. Hell, someone, please, buy me.
Today we went to Hoover Dam, then walked up to the new bypass bridge. It’s a helluva view, and you realize that if an oncoming semi-truck goes out of control, you have a choice between its grill or the canyon 900 feet down.
And here, from the top of Hoover dam, are (left to right) Craig’s hair, Craig, Frank, and Marie. Although you can’t see the line, Craig and his hair are in Arizona while Frank and Marie are in Nevada. And, as I said last year, all 3 are disguised as part of the Federal Witless Protection Program.
Shortly after this was taken Craig asked to leave because the wind was messing up his hair.
Then a fight broke out, because we'd all been in Nevada for a few days, but only Craig had been in Arizona (which was, say, a foot away). So Frank and Marie had a confrontation over who got to be the 2nd Grumpy child ever to go in Arizona, which ended when I pushed them both across the state line. Then they argued over who got to come back to Nevada first (it's a painted white line on the sidewalk, FFS!).
After all, one of the inalienable rights of siblings is that of fighting over stupid shit.
We talked about doing the dam tour, but the boys refused to go because it didn't include the room where they keep the Transformers.
On the drive back from the dam, the kids wanted to stop for lunch. After the fight on the dam I just opened the cooler and handed them a bunch of leftover McD's hash browns.
After getting back to the Excalibur, the kids and Mrs. Grumpy went down to the pool, and I went to play blackjack (I won $15). As I was sitting there... it happened.
Mrs. Sawme: “Hey! It’s Dr. Grumpy! What are you doing here?”
Dr. Grumpy: “Oh, Hi, Mrs. Sawme. Funny to see you here.”
Mrs. Sawme: “That surgeon you sent me to for my corroded artery...”
Dr. Grumpy: “Carotid.”
Mrs. Sawme: “Was awesome! Look at how well my scar is healing!” (rolls down shirt collar).
Dealer: “Sir, were you going to bet on this hand?”
Dr. Grumpy: “Uh, no. I, um, need to go.”
Dealer: “I understand.”
Mrs. Sawme: “Bye, Dr. Grumpy! Hey, do you know when my next appointment is?”
Dr. Grumpy: “No, call Mary. It was nice seeing you.”
Tonight, amidst much wailing and gnashing of teeth, we dragged the kids to see the Bellagio fountains “Dad! It’s just water.” And then the music started, and they shut up.
I lost the $15 bucks back to the Mirage. And they don’t even have the cool white tigers up front anymore. That sucks. Between that and the manatees the world is just going to hell on a handcart.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 8
We’re staying at the Excalibur. After getting up to our room on the 18th floor, the kids looked out at the strip and saw one of those mobile billboards drive by. Frank yelled, "Dad! There's a sign that says 'Hot Babes' and has naked ladies on it! What kind of town is this?!!!"
It’s Vegas, kids. What happens in Vegas... stays on Facebook.
People complain about the silent guys who try to hand you hookers' numbers as you walk down the strip. At least they aren’t pretending to be anything other than sleazy guys handing out call girl info. What REALLY grates my crank are the people crawling all over the hotel lobby trying to sell you a time-share.
They ask “Just get into town?” or “where you from?” or “How many days you here for?” The fact that they're dressed as hotel employees gives them just enough credibility that the first time it happens you answer them. Then they corner you, talking quickly about the great deal on show tickets they can get IF you spend the next morning listening to a time share presentation. They use high-pressure sales tactics ("these tickets could be gone in a few minutes, so better buy them now! If you go back to your room to check your schedule you'll probably miss them!") that make car salesmen look tame. Even more irritatingly, they try to get your kids involved “Hey, kids, I can give you some free stuff if you can get your parents to listen to me”.
After checking in we headed down to Circus Circus.
The Planet Hollywood hotel has a big "ph" sign at the top. With my chemistry degree all I can think of is the measure for acidity.
We passed signs advertising the “Frampton Comes Alive! 35th anniversary tour," showing his iconic picture from the 1976 album (but no updated ones). I found myself thinking that perhaps the tour should be called “Frampton Still Alive!” and imagined how his previous hits would sound today in Las Vegas:
“I want yoouuuuuu
To show me the waaayyyy
To the $9.95 all-you-can-eat early bird buffet.
“I want yoouuuuuu
To show me the waaayyyy
Back to my room 'cause I forgot where I stay."
We spent most of today at the Circus Circus AdventureDome park, which was a lot of fun. The hotel has seen better days, but the amusement park is still pretty good, with a decent rollercoaster, log flume, and other rides. It’s $27 for all day rides, which is a helluva deal when you consider the 2-minute roller coaster at the New York New York is ripoff-priced at $14 per person per ride (admittedly, if we went to a time-share presentation they could have given us tickets for only $10/person).
After I’d had enough of the roller coaster I bought a beer and sat down to watch the kids on a stomach churning ride. As I relaxed a homeless guy who’d somehow escaped security came up to me. I assumed he was going to ask for money, but it was even worse:
Homeless guy: “Hey!”
Dr. Grumpy: “Yes?”
Homeless guy: “Can you pour some of your beer in my cup?” (holds up unwashed coin bucket- with a few quarters in it!)
I told him he didn’t want my germs and walked away.
Craig and Frank wanted to play laser tag with me, and so we went in. It was the usual darkened room made to look like a seedy alley (granted, this was on the strip, so maybe it really was a seedy alley). To keep your nerves on edge during the game they blasted high tension-music overhead: Phil Collins’ & Duran Duran’s greatest hits of the 80’s. (REALLY!). Because nothing makes you want to shoot at another person more than listening to “Invisible Touch” at 200 gigadecibels. That and having Craig stop shooting to ask if his hair looks okay.
Right now the buzzword in Las Vegas (instead of artisanal) is “ultra”. Drives me nuts. The MGM has an ultra-lounge and ultra-pool. A local magic act is billed as an “ultra-magician”. If this catches on nationwide I’ll be ultra sick of it.
One of the funniest rip-offs here are the oxygen bars in the lobbies, where you see people paying $10 and up to breathe oxygen. Considering I've been inhaling it for free for over 4 decades I didn't see the point, but they sure had plenty of
They were also selling plastic bracelets that claimed to shield you from cell phone radiation. When Mrs. Grumpy wasn't looking I asked the girl if she had some data to back up the claim, and she said "because my boss told me they do."
And that's the way it is.
Summer Vacation, Day 7
I haven't seen this road sign in a few years, but it was always one of my favorites here. I hadn't thought of it until someone recently sent it to me:
After we got on the road, we noticed a piece of paper tucked under a windshield wiper. At 75 mph it blew loose. plastering itself for a few seconds across the driver’s side. We had a brief glimpse of “GOT JESUS?” spread across windshield bug stains before it blew away into the desert.
During the ride we passed through an area with a previously unknown weather phenomenon. Every few miles was an electronic sign flashing "DANGER! HIGH WINBS!" I can only assume this rates with frost heaves as a serious event.
Road trips are always interesting. You see advertisements for movies you never thought of, such as “The Romance and Sex Life of the Date” sponsored by Shield’s Fig & Date plantation. We also saw signs for a place in Nevada selling “Fresh Alien Jerky”.
We stopped in rural Nevada to visit Mrs. Grumpy’s 95-year-old grandfather. Marie asked him for some water, and he brought her a cup. He than launched into a story about how, when he was her age, they used to get his family's water from a pond that always had sheep shit floating on the surface.
After hearing this charming tale Marie stared at her untouched water glass for a minute, then said "Grampa, do you have anything that comes in cans, like Diet Coke?"
I genuinely like her grandfather. He’s an intelligent self-made, self-educated guy. He’s also pretty much blind now. So when other family came over to his place to greet us, we noticed how they carefully avoided using his plates and utensils for dinner (they brought their own disposables). Upon examination I discovered that the majority of his dishes had things encrusted on them. Trying to be helpful, I began washing them, only to be told not to since it offended the man. So I settled on finger-foods, too.
While reviewing the pictures from the beach I found this one of a sand castle washing away, which someone took when I wasn't looking. And that's all I'm going to say.
After dinner we were out for ice cream with some cousins when my cell phone rang. It came up as the ID for Dr. Brain's (my call partner) office.
Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy."
Maxine: "This is Maxine, with Dr. Brain's directory. He'd like you to do a consult for him at Local Hospital."
Dr. Grumpy: "I'm not on call. He is."
Maxine: "Well, our schedule says that, too. But he was quite adamant that you are tonight, and told us to call you."
Dr. Grumpy: "I'm in Chickenranch, Nevada."
Maxine: "What are you doing there?"
Dr. Grumpy: "I'm on vacation."
Maxine: "Why would you go there for vacation? Isn't Vegas nicer?"
Dr. Grumpy: "I have in-laws here. Look, the bottom line is that I'm far away, and I'm not even on call."
Maxine: "Does that mean you can't do the consult?"
We've camped out tonight in a remote relative’s basement (at Mrs. Grumpy’s insistence, she didn’t want to offend anyone). Normally cousin Eddie uses the basement to store his unfinished projects. Unfortunately, his hobby is taxidermy. So we're spending the night staring at partially-stuffed deer, elk, and bighorn sheep, who are staring back at us.
Sweet dreams.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 6
Eventually we found a spot.
I am not a beach person. I understand that many of you are. My view is more like the Dead Milkmen's "Beach Song".
When I was kid, I loved the beach, but as an adult the sheer logistics of hauling stuff there, setting up umbrellas, keeping sand out of Diet Coke and food, and locating bathrooms without junkies sleeping on the floor, is just a pain in the ass.
We all, I think, have this idyllic view of the beach we WANT to be on, popularized through beer, cruise line, and resort ads: a perfectly smooth white sand beach, devoid of all but a handful of young, attractive people, bright sun, icy buckets of beer, no noise except for the waves and wind.
But the reality is this: A crowded beach filled with large families, each with a loud boombox, all of them setting up giant portable sun patios from Costco, dragging coolers full of who-knows-what back and forth from the parking lot, inebrated college students, screaming toddlers who haven't had their diapers changed in a week, guys with metal detectors walking back & forth, and sand that's chock-full of seaweed, fast-food wrappers, dog shit, chicken bones, cigarette butts, and lost hair clips.
Oh, and a guy wearing a T-shirt that said "Make your tits stop staring at my eyes!"
But the kids liked it. So, as my parents did for me, I did for them.
I want to mention a LegoLand ride I forgot: The Knight's Tournament. Sound's benign, huh? It's actually oddly out-of-place in the glorified kiddyland of Legos.
This is a new generation of emesis-inducing rides. The German robot company KUKA makes giant robot arms to assemble cars, planes, tractors, whatever. And somewhere along the line they realized that people would pay money to have a giant mechanical limb toss them around like a sack of potatoes. They call them "robocoasters", and the arms put you through the same series of twists, turns, loops, and more that a real coaster would. It even comes with 5 levels, so you can pick the intensity of your ride. I recommend 1 if you want to be a bit dizzy, 5 if you want to toss your cookies. Of course, MY kids dragged me on it at level 5, three times in a row (I recommend Youtube if you want to see this thing in action).
Tonight was our last night in San Diego, , so we hung out at the hotel with various relatives, while the kids and their cousins played in the pool with a bunch of other kids. The evening came to an abrupt end when the kids all began screaming and climbing out of the pool. I went over to see if a shark had somehow been airlifted to it. To my horror (hell, EVERYONE'S horror), the scene was reminiscent of Caddyshack: a huge turd was at the bottom of the pool. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't a Baby Ruth.
Thus endeth the San Diego portion of our journey.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 5
I want to dispel the idea (which came up after my previous Sea World post) that I don't like this place. I do, in the way that it's a fun thing to do with the family, and having a fun vacation is part of the Summer. But any family activity, at home or here, will have its irritants.
That said, I still think the "Blue Horizons" dolphin show sucked.
Anyway...
Sometime today Frank stole the camera from our backpack. This always results in strange pictures, and makes me VERY glad we no longer pay to develop film. Because when I get back to the room there are always lots of strange random shots like this:
or this
or this
I think this was in the "Wild Arctic" exhibit
And this awesome one, of a cousin on a plane simulator:
We went on the Shipwreck Rapids river ride this afternoon, and got soaked. Leaving the ride we saw this gadget:
It's a dryer. A multiperson family-size dryer. For $5 it blasts as many people as you can cram into it to an arid state. We didn't use it, but Sea World must be making a fortune from people who can't stand walking around in soaked undies. Mrs. Grumpy wants one for the house, to use on the dogs.
One phenomenon I've never understood at amusement parks are people who wear ponchos to go on water rides. These rides obviously get you pretty soaked. They have warnings everywhere telling you that. And you see the drenched people getting off the ride.
But there is always a group that is absolutely horrified to learn they may get wet, and so cover up from head-to-toe. WTF is up with that? Why go on the ride at all? It's not like you're all dressed up.
I'd like to use this space to gripe about the lack of manatees. They are cool, and guess what? They're GONE! Sea World moved them to the Florida park (where they already have wild manatees) and replaced them with... Turtles. Sea turtles, which I admit are cool, but not nearly as cool as manatees. Hell, they've had turtles in an exhibit here for years, but decided to move them to a bigger one, and send the manatees to Florida. So now they have no manatees.
They also moved Commerson's dolphins to a non-viewing area and replaced them with stingrays, but this is apparently only temporary. They needed a new home for the stingrays while they're building a roller coaster. Where the moray eels that lived near the stingrays are is not mentioned.
To help the wild bunch burn off some energy we turned them loose in the "Bay of Play". This huge playground is partially sponsored by Sesame Street, and so occasionally giant costumed TV characters go by. I offered to take Craig's picture with Bert and Ernie so he could show it to his 5th grade class, and he pretended not to recognize me. It was awesome.
While the kids were tearing the Bay of Play apart, Mrs. Grumpy and I camped out at a shady table across from it at Pineapple Pete's. And there, to my surprise, we discovered an all new, and entirely unadvertised, Sea World attraction: the Spandex Parade.
You see, they have these adventure things, where for a fee you get to spend a few hours as a dolphin/whale/walrus/whatever handler. So they put you in a spandex wetsuit, and you go off to your adventure.
Then, at 5:40 in the afternoon, you get marched back to the locker room. And in doing so you (and all your dolphin-feeding friends) walk past Pineapple Pete's.
Now I do NOT claim to be a poster child for physical fitness. Quite the opposite. In spite of my perpetual battles with the Wii Fit Trainer, I seem to be losing ground. BUT I AM NOT TRYING TO CRAM MY OUT-OF-RANGE FAT ASS BMI INTO A SKIN-TIGHT SPANDEX WETSUIT AND PARADE IT AROUND SEA WORLD!
Let’s face it: how many of you want to be seen in public wearing a skin-tight, form-fitting wetsuit? I thought so. Me neither. Very few of us are in the phenomenal shape of Sea World's trainers.
So people who likely would never even consider wearing Spandex in public anywhere else on Earth walk by in it here. And, I must admit, after seeing them I changed my mind about wanting to get a funnelcake.
At this point Frank and Marie wanted to re-ride Journey to Atlantis, so we walked over, only to find it was closed again. While I was looking for info about when it would re-open, some lady wrongly assumed I worked there (Ma’am, for future reference, SeaWorld employees don't wear "Motorhead" t-shirts to work), and asked me what the ride's problem was. I told her they were looking for someone's head, and walked away.
We stayed for the evening Shamu show, Shamu Rocks!, which is whale tricks done to blasting music. At one point they played KISS's "Rock and Roll all Night". This got me thinking: In 1975, when the song came out, KISS was marketed as the anti-family, pro-rebellious, piss-off-your-parents-by-listening-to-us band. Long hair. Bizarre makeup. Strange costumes. FFS, during "God of Thunder" Gene Simmons would vomit blood onto the stage! And what are they in 2011? Perfect for family entertainment at Sea World.
Craig, your hair looks fine.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 4
LegoLand, in my opinion, is one of the more overpriced amusement parks out there (maybe 2nd only to Disney, but at least Disney has more to do) In addition to this, several of the attractions consist of letting your kids play with Legos and Duplos, which they can do back at home. Not to mention all the Lego sets they sell here (which you can buy online, or at Target, for less) that your kids will tear open in the park and lose the pieces.
But they do have some awesome deals, like this coupon we were handed when we went in:
Yes, Moms & Dads: if you spend $35 on Lego Star Wars merchandise, you get a free sticker! Is that a smokin' deal or what?
The kids love a play area called Pharoah's Revenge, which is entered by a spiral staircase. For reasons unknown, the stairs have a handicapped sign under them (there's no lift nearby, either). I have no idea how they think anyone with crutches or a wheelchair can access these:
LegoLand has 2 rides that are (allegedly) kid-powered. In one kids yank ropes (heavily assisted by machinery) to pull their bench up a tower. You're kids will love it. And are you naive enough to believe they'll do the pulling? Of course they won't.
This is, in reality, ADULT powered (sort of like the credit card you used for admission). YOU end up pulling the damn ropes, because your lazy kid is too busy looking around as you hoist your bench in the air, waving at siblings, your spouse, and anyone else he can use as an excuse not to do some measly manual work.
Likewise, they have a 2-person vehicle you pedal on a track above the park. And you think your kids are going to help you pedal? SUCKER!
At lunch today all the visible tables were taken, so one special family decided to set up camp on a sidewalk RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE KITCHEN DOOR. So when some employee came up, pushing a cart full of buns and condiment jugs and other supplies, they REFUSED TO MOVE! So he couldn't get his cart into the kitchen (and no one could get out) while this family argued that since they couldn't find a table, the whole problem of how to get supplies into the kitchen is Legoland's, not theirs.
One of the best parts of Legoland is a HUGE wooden play area. It's 3 stories high, and is what anyone dreams of having in their yard when growing up. It's a great place to let your kids run amok while you rest your feet (although it really needs more benches for adults to sit down- you hear me, Legoland?).
Mrs. Grumpy found a seat on a fence near where the main slide ends at the bottom, while I went up into this thing with the kids and chased them around. After a while I decided to go sit next to Mrs. Grumpy, and thought the big slide would be a cool way to get back down. Kids were going down quickly and flying out at the bottom, so since she was sitting near it I figured I'd pop out right at her feet with a little (snaps fingers) razzle dazzle.
So I climbed into the slide, but didn't pick up speed like those kids did. And about 5 feet from the bottom, I came to a dead stop.
Here I am, stuck in a tube slide, lying on my back. I can't sit up. All I can do is repeatedly hunch my butt up and down to try and scoot out. This made a hell of a lot of noise, and when my distinctive "no one else would buy sneakers this hideous, even on sale" shoes began to inch out the bottom opening, I could hear Mrs. Grumpy start shrieking hysterically.
I was afraid she was going to have to drag me the last few feet out, but then some impatient kindergartner came down the slide after me, landed on my head, and pushed me out.
In some ways I prefer Legoland over Sea World. We can find a quiet corner, read books, and turn the kids (they're old enough) loose. I don't recommend the adjacent aquarium, though. It takes all of 15 minutes to walk through, and you find yourself saying "was that it?". Go to the Scripps Birch Aquarium if you want sea life.
Although most of the park is geared toward the age 5-10 crowd, one of LegoLand's coolest features for anyone is MiniLand, which has Lego replicas of several major cities and monuments.
(click to enlarge)
They also have a Star Wars section.
In the afternoon my kids went on a mini-boat ride, where you steer a little electric boat around a course. I watched a guy in his mid-30’s, covered in tattoos, and smoking a cigarette (the attendant asked him to put it out, and the guy ignored her) get in one of the little kiddie boats BY HIMSELF and thought, “sheesh, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve seen today.”
It quickly became the 2nd most pathetic thing, as Marie then got into a boat. At the breakneck speed of 1 MPH she lost control of it, spinning it completely around and colliding with Craig’s behind her, then getting jammed against the side. This aquatic traffic jam was finally solved when an employee put on hip-waders (in her case they were neck-waders) and went out to drag Marie’s boat onto the right course and give her a lecture about such complex activities as working a steering wheel.
While watching this water ballet I got to listen to Captain Cranky. This is a life-size LEGO figure nearby, who slowly turns machinery attached to a ride, all the while groaning and straining like a badly constipated man in need of prunes.
Late afternoon a lady walking ahead of me suddenly bent forward over a LEGO buffalo and yelled to a friend to take her picture. To my horror, her shorts dropped precipitiously as she leaned over, showing 6 inches of crack and a strand of purple thong. She stood back up before I could get a picture of the abomination to share with you guys.
And that's the way it is.
P.S. Don't get a smug "I don't live near LegoLand, so my kids won't drag me there" look. I don't either, and here I am. And they're building one in Florida. So there.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Summer Vacation, Day 3
Before leaving Hotel Chateau Grumpé I was looking for online deals, and found this smokin' one:
(click to enlarge)
As a kid growing up here, Balboa park was always one of my favorite places. There are many awesome museums, and it's sad we only had time for a few. We did the science, natural history, and airplane ones.
Kids love dinosaur stuff, and they have lots of good ones at the natural history museum. They even have a display of this planet's all-time ultimate monster, Megalodon.
I don't care how big a dinosaur fan you are. This thing was the stuff of nightmares, more so than anything that ever walked the land. It was between 50-70 feet (16m-20mg) long, and its jaws exerted a bite force of 8 tons per square inch (5 times as powerful as Tyrannosaurus Rex).
Let's look at this graphic: you see the little green fishy at the bottom? That's a modern Great White Shark (i.e. Jaws). And the violet thing above that? The modern Whale Shark, biggest fish in the world. And the big gray thing at the top? That's Megalodon. The red thing is a smaller estimate of Magalodon. And, in case you missed it, that little blue biped in the lower left corner is you. Or in this case, a light snack. Good thing Megalodon died out 1 million years ago, huh?
I hope you're all taking notes, we'll be having a short quiz later.
Mid-day we took a break from the museums and went out to lunch.
My Mom is an avid bird person. She has bird feeders all over her yard, and is perennially filling them with seed and food scraps. She's known to take stuff home from restaurants and dinner parties just to feed the birds. The food attracts little birds, which then attract raptors, neighborhood cats, and bobcats. Some days she has a whole food chain going in her yard.
At lunch Craig and Marie got sandwiches, and (as usual) didn't eat their crusts and left some fries. My Mom reached over and grabbed them. She put them in a napkin, and stuffed it in her purse.
Dr. Grumpy: "Mom, what are you doing?"
Mom Grumpy: "They're for the birds."
Dr. Grumpy: "Ma, just leave them out here on the table. There are pigeons and seagulls everywhere here."
Mom Grumpy: "They're for MY birds."
Dr. Grumpy: "So you're going to take bread crusts back to the hotel, pack them in a suitcase, fly a few hours back to Grumpyville, and then feed them to the birds in your yard?"
Dad Grumpy: "Ibee, don't argue with her on this. I've tried."
Craig: "Hey, does my hair look okay?"
In the afternoon we hit the Reuben Fleet Science Museum. When I was a kid, this was my favorite place on Earth. Their theater was the first one I ever went to with a REALLY BIG SCREEN that simulated motion, and a lot of my interest in space started here. And the science museum is cool, too. Some of the exhibits are the same ones they had when I was kid, showing how timelessly cool interactive stuff can be.
They also have a "hurricane machine" where you lock your kids in a small room, plug in $2, and it subjects them to an 80 mph wind for a few minutes. Frank and Marie cackled hysterically during it. Craig screamed it was messing up his hair and WHAT IF SOMEONE FROM HIS SCHOOL IS HERE AND SEES HIM LIKE THIS!!!
Later we took the kids over to the park's play area. After a while the kids disappeared. I’d just started looking for them when they suddenly showed up, each carrying 2-3 empty bottles of hard liquor. Frank explained that they saw them behind the bushes, near a sleeping man, and wanted to help keep the park clean. I had them put them in the trash and thanked heavens for Purell wipes.
As we were walking away Craig reached under another a bush and pulled out a bong. He asked me what it was, and I told him it was for smoking and to put it back.
I think I'll sign off now, because we're at some restaurant with the extended family here. The waiter keeps typing on his iPad, and I suspect he's blogging about me typing on my iPad while I try to ignore my inebriated uncle who keeps ogling the hostess. Who's probably blogging about him on her iPad.
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