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.
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.)
Well, Cressy is of a pummeling type age, you know.
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?)
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.
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.)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.
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| 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. |
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| "Hey, there's a giant, plastic shark looming over Daddy's head! I will pummel it!" |
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| "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." |
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| 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.) |
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| 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.) |
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| I couldn't help myself. |
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?)
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| Obviously, this is NOT a Ford truck from Canada. But I really couldn't help it. Someone stop me before it's too late. |
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| 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. |
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| 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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