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Monday, August 1, 2011

PART II - Mini-Vacation OR How We Came, We Saw, We Were Sarcastic!

If I had written this trip all in one blog, it would have been almost a book, so two parts.  Hey, twice the anticipation.  Upon my last, daring, spine-tingling blog, the reader was left with many searing questions:

What did they do with the $20 bill?
Did they hand it to the concierge?
Did they keep it and spend it on diamonds and other booty?
Did they tell anyone at all?
Will the maids squeal?
Will the pool keeper tell his wife?
Will Fat Woman stop asking inane questions?
Why did she put these questions in the center and make them purple?

Okay, you.  YOU, the one reading this blog for the first time.  Yes, I mean, you.  I see that confused look on your face and your hand on the mouse about to click away to obscurity and porn sites.  Go read the blog before this one.  'Trip, Trip, Tripping Down to the Beach, etc.'  I'll wait.  (Oh, yes, don't forget to share how funny you thought this was on Twitter and Facebook.)

I'll summarize for those of you who did read the blog and don't remember much of it because of whatever reason.  (Alcoholic over-consumption, alien abduction, addiction to the truTV Channel, whatever.)  Us.  Beach.  Hotel.  GPS hosing me over again.  $20 bill in jacuzzi.  Silliness.  There it is.

The most important question: Did we keep the possibly tainted $20 bill?  Well, I wanted to give it to the homeless people who had been languishing on the bench underneath the pool's balcony for most of the three days that we were at the hotel.  (It's a luck thing.  Spread the love.  It's good for your karma.)  But HIM wanted to put it in his wallet and contaminate the other hapless currency there.  (I can totally picture one $20 saying to the other, "So where have YOU been?")  So I'll get back to that.

This is the sunset from the ferry.  This
is probably the best picture I took on
this trip.  I love my Android.  I'd probably
shrivel up and die without it.
We rode the ferry across the river and went to Joe's Crab Shack.  Why?  They have an indoor playground there.  Those of you with children of an age will instantaneously understand.  They also had a giant plastic shark that loomed over our heads.  While staring at its plasticine toothiness, I was mentally planning my lawsuit for when it fell on HIM's head and crushed HIM into little HIM pancakes.  (Him said it should be himcakes instead of HIM pancakes.)  (HIM had picked the table and thus got to sit under the giant, looming, plastic shark in a particularly precarious position.)  Then Cressy pointed at it and hilarity ensued.  (Hilarity often ensues in my blogs.  As a matter of fact, it should be in the title of the blog.  'The Hilariously Ensuant Confessions of a Fat Woman.'  Now I'm going to have to look in my BIG dictionary to see if I made up a word.)
"Hey, there's a giant, plastic shark
looming over Daddy's head!  I will
pummel it!"
Well, Cressy is of a pummeling type age, you know.
"I have my grrr-face on, Mommy.  I have
waxed the shark's tushie and saved Daddy.
All is well again.  Let's eat.  But first
I have to go play in the play area."
Now wouldn't it have been funny if the giant, plastic shark HAD fallen on HIM's head?  I'm sure (almost sure) that it doesn't weigh that much.  And hey, think of the publicity.  It wouldn't make the Darwin Awards (unless I could have gotten HIM to swing on the shark first, which would have also been rip-snorting but would have involved way too many margaritas) but it would have been funny.  (Think of the headlines: Man NOT Eaten by Great White Shark; Man Crushed by Great White Shark.  Killer, yeah?)
All were happy after eating at Joe's
and NOT having a shark crush
their little weenie brains.  (Did I mention
that HIM was, oh I have to say it,
crabby on this trip?  Doesn't he
look crabby?)  (HIM came in and read
this and said that he wasn't crabby
at that particular point in time.  So maybe
he was constipated.  Whateveh.)
After eating our guts out, we returned to the hotel for more hilarity.  It was really hilarious when the hotel's bleeeeeeeeeep, bleeeeeeep, bleeepity Internet wouldn't let me log onto Facebook so I could post inanity.  But I did take a picture of the elevator's number pad just because I was bored.
Wow, this is truly fascinating.  Whatever
will Fat Woman think of next?  I can
hardly restrain my sarcasm, er, I mean
excitement.  (Incidentally, people will look
at you strangely when you take pictures of
food in the supermarket and also elevator
panels.)
I demanded caffeine the next morning when we were due to leave.  But we went downstairs to the concierge lounge where they give out freebies to members of their 'platinum' club.  (HIM goes on lots of business trips and knows how to milk a teat.  I mean, he really knows how to simultaneously yank and squeeze.  No offense to cows.)
I couldn't help myself.
So we ate in there and Cressy discovered that they had triple chocolate chunk muffins.  Life was good again!  Then we went home.

On the trip home, I was stuck behind what I think is the only Canadian Ford truck driver from that country.  (Or maybe he bought it from the truck plant there.  Hey, it's made in America, right?) 
Obviously, this is NOT a Ford truck from Canada.
But I really couldn't help it.
Someone stop me before it's too late.
So here's a picture of the Canadian driver of the Ford Truck who couldn't go above 50 MPH in a 70 MPH zone.  IN THE FAST LANE.  On the freeway!  With twenty million people trailing behind him, yelling things out their windows. 
Yes, that's a Burger King crown on my dash.
I do have a 7 year old, you know.  And this
guy REALLY is from Canada.  It said, 'Je ma
somethingorother' on his plates, so there.
Does it look like I'm tailgating here?
I might have been.
You know, it occurs to me that
people driving cars shouldn't
take pictures with their
Androids while driving.  Haha.
HIM took it.
In conclusion, what happened to the nasty $20 bill?  Well, I believe the Ninja Vampire Zombies returned and I duked it out with them using my mystical Fat Woman powers.  Finally, I told them that they could take the icky bill if they wouldn't bite me and turn me to the dark side.  They were sadly dismayed but went along with it.
I thought about adding a ninja vampire zombie but I couldn't
think of how to draw it correctly, or more importantly, funnily.
Did anyone notice that this cow is missing her left front leg?
This isn't really a three legged cow; I accidentally erased it
with my autosketch program.  Whoops.  Maybe I should
send the $20 to the cow.

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