Date Archives August 2009

Challenge the raging water of DEATH. Dare to discover what water is really made of! H2WHOA!

Time for a song!

I want to go to Mt. Splashmore, Take me, take me, take me, take me now! Now! Now! Now! Now! Now! Mt. Splashmore, take me there right now! Yay!

Yesterday, Jim, Anne, Shannon and I went to Wild Waves to soak up some fun, some sun (too much sun), and push from our minds whatever nastiness might be floating about in the watery depths. Last year, Anne had mentioned to her friend Denise that we were planning a water park outing, and she pulled a horrible face and said SHE would NEVER use a public pool as “the water tastes digusting, because of all those creams and lotions that fat people put on their skin.”

…I think Denise is a rotten bitch.

Last year, the day we picked for Waterpark Hooky ended up overcast and raining on and off, which was perfect in terms of being able to run up the stairs and slide down over and over again without having to wait for a tube, but by the end of the day, we were all really, really cold.

This year, it was sunny and bright without being excessively hot and it made the whole day much more comfortable with the exception of the very end when I realized I had turned into a crispy-skinned Peking duck.

We got on all of the tube rides at least once, we hit most of the non-tube slides as well, and on one of the high-speed slides, I rocketed down so fast and so far, I was afraid I would shoot right off the end. Apparently, standing next to the slide when I shot down it was a bit like visiting Shamu at Sea-World: if you are in the first 15 rows, you’re going to get soaked.

We spent a good amount of time in the wave pool, which is more fun than a regular pool by about one million points, and it’s even more fun, if, say, after half your party has departed, the remaining two people ogle hot swimsuited men shamelessly like contestants for the Guinness Book of Lechers from the deep end.

Like last year, we spent most of our time on the waterpark side of things, eschewing spinny rides that might make Jim vomit in favor of bumper cars, where I bore witness to one of the creepiest, most-wrong feeling, shudder-inducing moments I’ve ever had the displeasure of standing next to in line. Picture this: A shirtless, swim-trunk wearing man (perhaps the father, perhaps an uncle, perhaps the world’s creepiest stranger) who appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s, holding a girl of about 9, with her legs wrapped around his waist, MOANING BACK AND FORTH “oh girl!” “oh boy!” “OH GIRL” “OH BOY”. At one point, this young girl began kissing this older man’s stomach. Nothing about this situation seems right to me. Nothing.

After the bumper cars, we thought we’d ride the wooden roller coaster. The female operator clearly hadn’t spent enough time on the waterpark side of things as she had so much sand crammed up her vagina that it resembled the Gobi desert, barking and huffing at people to “JUST PUSH DOWN AND PULL UP ON YOUR LAP BAR” and “GOD, I’M COMING”. THEN, it was revealed that someone had managed to break free of his lap bar on the last ride and was standing, and that a bolt had fallen off the ride somewhere but we were ‘free to hang around in case they found out where it came from’. No. No, thank you. OH HELL NO.

When is the bolt vigilance test?

Stronger. You see? You see? Your stupid minds! Stupid! Stupid! :pistolwhip:

Last night, a group of Scientists of the Future ventured away from their home laboratories and went out to see the ‘Live For Everyone Not On PST’ Rifftrax of the worst movie ever made, Plan 9 From Outer Space. This fine movie stars the unintelligible Tor Johnson, Vampira (who doesn’t speak a word the entire film), and dead Bela Lugosi…undead, undead, undead. No, really. All of the footage of the real Bela Lugosi was shot without any script in mind, and Plan 9 was written to accommodate all the footage they’d shot of Bela in the graveyard in his Dracula costume. When Ed Wood wanted ‘Bela’ to interact with anyone else in the movie, he dressed up his wife’s chiropractor in a cape and made him cover his face with his arm whenever his front side was visible to the camera.

Although it was filmed in black and white, last night the movie was shown colorized, much like the Ted Turner versions of classic films. Now, I will fully admit to owning Plan 9 and watching it more than any one person should EVER view it, but in color it was a completely different animal. In order to incorporate the footage that had already been shot of Bela Lugosi and the stock footage, the movie jumps from night to day to night to day, and in color, those leaps are made much more glaringly obvious. Not that it was subtle in the first place. The police will come screaming down the dirt road to the cemetary in bright sunshine, and when they park the car in the Cemetary of Eternal Darkness, it’s pitch black. One of the female characters was attacked by ‘Bela’ in her home, so she ran outside to the pitch black cemetary. There, she encountered Vampira, screamed, ran out to the road where it was now twilight, and passed out. Bela then swishes his cape at her menacingly in a bright fall afternoon and stalks away, which cuts to the woman being rescued by a cornfed man, ass first, at twilight again. It’s a horrendous bit of genius.

Also particularly awesome is the general who commands his stock footage army of the Korean war from in front of a wrinkly sheet. It’s VERY convincing. And by very, I mean, ‘not at all’.

The RiffTrax crew did a great job, Jonathan Coulton was awesome (as usual), and all in all it was much more fun than a visit to Fort Worth (sorry, Fort Worth).

My friend, you have seen this incident, based on sworn testimony. Can you prove that it didn’t happen? Perhaps, on your way home, someone will pass you in the dark, and you will never know it… for they will be from outer space.