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| First encounter with the Pelican. |
You
know, running a near worldwide, evil organization can be exhausting. Planning new, interesting operations aimed
at taking over the world takes a lot of energy. There’s the meetings, travel, the paperwork, computer modeling,
recruit selection, torturing of anti-evil forces. It just never seems to end.
Even an evil genius needs some time off every now and then.
I’m
sure many of you have read, or at least seen, travel books telling you all the
best things to do and the cool secrets of your vacation destination of
choice. Well, in this harrumph I’m
going to guide you through one of the most popular destinations in the world,
and I’m going to do it with my own particular “life filter.” I won’t tell you things like: “you’ve just
got to see Monet’s impressionist piece on the state of mimism in the late
1700’s,” or stuff like that. In this
harrumph I will dispense knowledge for those who vacation at, and for those
that make Disneyland a magical place.
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| Dang you, Pelican! |
Of
course, everyone loves to take pictures when they’re strolling through
Fantasyland or approaching their favorite attraction. Now, I don’t mind if you ask me to take a picture of you with
your camera or anything like that. What
I can’t stand is when you are taking a picture of your friend on one side of
the walkway and you seem to feel that you can only compose the picture properly
from the other side of the walkway. Now
I’m the asshole for walking through your shot? You’re the one taking 20 minutes to figure out how to use that
new point-and-shoot you just bought.
Take your damn picture already; we’ve got the Jungle Cruise to ride
sometime today!
You
know, if you bump my car on Autopia one more time I’m going to get out and smack
you one right in the middle of the course.
Can’t you read? Can’t you
hear? There’s no bumping cars on
Autopia. Oh yeah, it’s Autopia, not
Autotopia, idiot. Once again I ask you…
can’t you read?
Ummm,
just because I rode Small World, it doesn’t mean I want to hear you sing the
song for the rest of the day so if I happen to follow you off the ride and down
the street… shut up already!
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| You win again, Pelican! |
When
Mrs. Rrumph & I are holding hands as we walk into an attraction line it
means we’re together. Don’t try to cut
between us! And if you are walking down
the street and get a sudden urge to look at your map because you don’t know
where the Matterhorn is… move to the side of the path, don’t just stop right in
front of us… ‘cause we’re gonna walk right into you and your three-wide
stroller and there’s gonna be problems.
If you just showed up five minutes before the fireworks start don’t try
to squeeze into the bench we’re sitting on.
We’ve been here an hour waiting while you were riding rides. I really don’t care that your grandmother can’t
stand for a 20 minute fireworks show.
She didn’t seem to mind standing in the attraction lines while we were
staking out our place on the bench.
Step off, grandma!
If
you’ve got brain cell one in your head don’t wear a shirt that says something
like: “F*#k the world because you all suck.”
You know, it’s a family environment.
I already know you’re an inbred, worthless, homicidal freak; the devil
face tattoo on the back of your bald, misshapen head told me that. We don’t need reinforcement from a shirt
that swears constantly at 7 year olds following you down Main Street.
You know, Mrs. Rrumph & I have spent a
lot of money on our Disney experience.
Cast members: it’s your job to
make sure that our experiences remain magical.
I’m paying to see you smile. I’m
paying for you to notice the birthday button I’m wearing and say “happy
birthday, Mr. Rrumph!” I’m paying to be
served my ribs and baked beans with a smile.
I don’t want to have my spoonful of beans slapped into my tray with
enough force to break the pull of earth’s gravity. Got it, Mary from Pasadena?
I don’t really care if you’re having a bad day. I’m having a magical one… keep it
that way. And you know what? When I want to know when the parking
structure opens the next day I want information that’s accurate. If I have to sit in line with a bunch of
other cars who’s owners were told that the parking structure opened at 8am,
only to watch it tick tock down to 9am before the parking monkeys let anyone
in… I’m not starting out my day very magically, am I?
Yes,
I may be old. Yes, I may be
grumpy. Yes, I may be an evil
genius. But, I still want to ride in
the monkey cage on Casey Jr. Just
‘cause you’ve got kids doesn’t give you the exclusive right to have all the
fun. I waited in line like the rest of
you. If you want to ride in the monkey
cage, wait for the next train.
It’s
not the “haunted house.” It’s the
Haunted Mansion. Jeeze, do a little
research before you get here. And yes,
there are two sides to the Matterhorn Bobsleds so don’t just stand there like
an imbecile when you get to the split between the Tomorrowland side and the
Fantasyland side. Make a decision
already.
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| Some day Pelican, some day! |
The
evil pelican on the ground floor of the Grand Californian Hotel and I have been
at war ever since the hotel opened. I
am sad to say that he has won most of our stare downs. One of these days… One of these days…
"...
it's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of
cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses ..." Yeah, it may sound corny
to you but my buddy & I always ride Space Mountain “blues” style. The thing I can’t stand is, after we get off
the ride and check out the picture Disney takes at the end of the ride, other
people are looking at your picture. Now
that may not seem so bad but it’s just icky when it’s a couple of other guys
looking and one says to the other: “Hey Maurice, check out these guys with the
sunglasses on! Ooohh, take a picture of
them! *squeal*” Now that’s just icky.
Ok,
I’m trying to watch a show here. If
your baby starts crying during “Aladdin,” take the dang thing outside… or pop
out a boob and feed the thing. Oh, and
one last piece of advice: Moms, you’ve
got to bend over and check on your stroller kids more often. Especially if you are wearing a shirt with a
low neckline and you’ve got a huge rack.
Now that’s my idea of the “happiest place on earth!” Harrumph…
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