In honor of the new year, here are some things that sort of rhyme with two thousand ten:
Gentle Ben
Streisand in Yentyl
More smegma, Auntie Em?
Jail's sodomy pen
Those damned ass men
Hate Sascatchewan
Got me a yen
M'cycle zen
Them Sooners did win
My dog's got the runs
Sanford & son
My turd weighed a ton
Big boobies is fun
Let's sue Jackie Chan
What's a henway?
Diarrhea
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
05 January 2010
04 May 2009
A Floridian visits Disney
All right readers; let’s get this over with so we can move on to something more important. Navel lint, for example.
Here’s all you need to know about the 4 parks.
Magic Kingdom: Creepy oversized characters and a roller coaster that would be tolerable were not all the suspense removed by placing it under a darkened dome. Oh—that other ride where they strap you in so an alien can spit on you? Pass.
Hollywood Studios: Another unlit roller coaster (what’s the deal?), only this time riders get to hear Aerosmith filler songs at a volume level of distortion as they twist along undaunting loops. All told, this park is about as Hollywood as a NASCAR double-wide.
Animal Kingdom: Sort of like a zoo, but without any real proximity to animals.
Epcot: The front is dominated by a giant Titleist that houses the slowest park ride in captivity. The back has an international flavor, provided you believe that Denmark borders China.
Tune in next time readers, as I give this column a truly international flavor!
Here’s all you need to know about the 4 parks.
Magic Kingdom: Creepy oversized characters and a roller coaster that would be tolerable were not all the suspense removed by placing it under a darkened dome. Oh—that other ride where they strap you in so an alien can spit on you? Pass.
Hollywood Studios: Another unlit roller coaster (what’s the deal?), only this time riders get to hear Aerosmith filler songs at a volume level of distortion as they twist along undaunting loops. All told, this park is about as Hollywood as a NASCAR double-wide.
Animal Kingdom: Sort of like a zoo, but without any real proximity to animals.
Epcot: The front is dominated by a giant Titleist that houses the slowest park ride in captivity. The back has an international flavor, provided you believe that Denmark borders China.
Tune in next time readers, as I give this column a truly international flavor!
05 July 2007
A Surrealist Dog on a Family Vacation
Tuesday
Family loads car. Wag tail. Wag. Wag and prance. Wag, dammit! Want to go. Let me in. Letting me in!! Car going. Must push head outside window! Ensuing pain. Windows all closed. Lay down to sleep. Kids asking when we’ll be there. Trees rush by, their dander forming screaming scepters of meaningful depth.
Car slowing down. Jump up! Wag tail! Wag more! Let me out! Rest stop! Leash on, leave car. Pee here. Pee there. Pee again. Wonder how deviled eggs would fare against a jury of diseased cat carcasses.
Back in car. To sleep. Dream of granite tadpoles with the haunting accents of long dead languages.
Wednesday
Kids in pool. Splashing, yelling. I run. Must run. Circling pool, barking. Meat hooks travel, yet are no match in time for cigarette smoking ne’er-do-wells.
Dinnertime. Left in hotel room alone. Make squealing noise. Bark at jerkball pounding on wall. Still alone. Take dump. Wipe ass across carpet. Ideas become confetti for a missing dachshund’s wake.
Thursday
State park. Spend day on leash. Nature trails. Hot, all frackin day. Run some, but too damn hot. Wish for toilet to drink from. Splotches of calico are the train that grants destruction of Scottish pines.
Friday
City streets. No run, just walk and walk and walk more. Sniff public mailbox. OK to pee on. Man playing saxophone. Must pee some more. Kids run by statue I’d like to pee on, but leash tied to bench. Who wasn’t there when dripping definitions cast well-schooled humans wholesale from clavicular to fasciculus?
Saturday
Car ride to coast. Run from family when arrive. Take leak in sand. Drink salt water. Eat beach grass. Puke in car on way back to hotel. Puppies with ravioli selling their dreams to the city.
Sunday
Returning home. Sleep until car stops. Large dog at rest stop. Sniff butt, but detect no identifiable indicators. Arrive at house. Take dump in familiar lawn. Time for more sleep. If you’ve a Snausage for a thumb, gaze upon my testicles.
Family loads car. Wag tail. Wag. Wag and prance. Wag, dammit! Want to go. Let me in. Letting me in!! Car going. Must push head outside window! Ensuing pain. Windows all closed. Lay down to sleep. Kids asking when we’ll be there. Trees rush by, their dander forming screaming scepters of meaningful depth.
Car slowing down. Jump up! Wag tail! Wag more! Let me out! Rest stop! Leash on, leave car. Pee here. Pee there. Pee again. Wonder how deviled eggs would fare against a jury of diseased cat carcasses.
Back in car. To sleep. Dream of granite tadpoles with the haunting accents of long dead languages.
Wednesday
Kids in pool. Splashing, yelling. I run. Must run. Circling pool, barking. Meat hooks travel, yet are no match in time for cigarette smoking ne’er-do-wells.
Dinnertime. Left in hotel room alone. Make squealing noise. Bark at jerkball pounding on wall. Still alone. Take dump. Wipe ass across carpet. Ideas become confetti for a missing dachshund’s wake.
Thursday
State park. Spend day on leash. Nature trails. Hot, all frackin day. Run some, but too damn hot. Wish for toilet to drink from. Splotches of calico are the train that grants destruction of Scottish pines.
Friday
City streets. No run, just walk and walk and walk more. Sniff public mailbox. OK to pee on. Man playing saxophone. Must pee some more. Kids run by statue I’d like to pee on, but leash tied to bench. Who wasn’t there when dripping definitions cast well-schooled humans wholesale from clavicular to fasciculus?
Saturday
Car ride to coast. Run from family when arrive. Take leak in sand. Drink salt water. Eat beach grass. Puke in car on way back to hotel. Puppies with ravioli selling their dreams to the city.
Sunday
Returning home. Sleep until car stops. Large dog at rest stop. Sniff butt, but detect no identifiable indicators. Arrive at house. Take dump in familiar lawn. Time for more sleep. If you’ve a Snausage for a thumb, gaze upon my testicles.
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