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?
I hope you witnessed the creepy fish feed.
What’s that?
at wild waves there’s a big lake. and it’s full of creepy fish. and you can buy fish food for a quarter or something, and drop it in, and the fish climb onto each other, out of the water, to get at your offering. it’s creepy.
Once upon a time I went to Cedar Point with a bunch of college friends. When getting seated to ride Magnum, the lap bar did not fully lock into place because my legs were in the way. I discovered this fact at the crest of the second hill, when the restraint popped up and the ride made a valiant attempt at launching me into Lake Erie. I survived by wrapping my knees under the bar and my arms over and riding out every remaining bump in the ride, of which there were many, with a metal bar to the crotch. My then-roommate, who was riding next to me, didn’t witness any of this because the descent of first hill had blown his contacts up under his eyelids.
The moral of this story is that a dude getting hit in the balls is funny, and it just gets funnier each successive time.
Were you seated in the Disaster Car? Had you recently run into a gypsy who became angered at your raucous behavior and put a curse on you?
I think it was more likely the intent look that I gave the ride operator while her hand was near my lap that caused her to leave the job half-done.
Wow. That’s one of the best stories ever. Next time I see you, I’m gonna ask you to tell it, just so I can hear it again.
~Aramada
We went to Silverwood last year about this time and OMG IT WAS SO FUCKING COLD.
You ran from waterslide to waterslide because it was too effin’ cold to walk slowly.
Although, you have taught me that if you get sunburned within an inch of your life – you can be a walking heater! YAY!
The bad part is that while you are warm and toasty to those around you (the dog loves me now), I find that when I get sunburned, I get very shivery and cold on the inside.
But you can’t cover up because it hurts!!!
I too have been sunburned within an inch of my life on many, many occasions. This is because I am whiter than just about anything else on earth, except possibly Casper the Friendly Ghost. I have to wear sunscreen with an SPF of approximately six million or I will become post-toasty-roasted.
Did you report Creepy Pedophile Dude to security? I would have.
cheers,
Phil
I wouldn’t have known what to say. “Uh, there’s a dude here who seems to enjoy his daughter’s company. No, REALLY enjoy his daughter’s company. NO, REALLY.”
“JUST PUSH DOWN AND PULL UP ON YOUR LAP BAR” and “GOD, I’M COMING.”
DELIBERATELY TAKING THIS OUT OF CONTEXT.
IT WAS THE OPPOSITE OF SEXY I PROMISE YOU
I have crisp pinky-red shoulder skin to prove I had too much fun at the park. And, my sinuses are chlorine cleeeeeeaaaaan. Take that, Denise!
Bitch doesn’t know what she’s missing!
Oh god Fallout what have you done to my brain
I am stifling massive laughter at work again. My Indian, male coworker who never says anything to anyone is eyeing the exit. Thank you, everyone. Priceless. I will never ride Magnum. Ever, but I sure wouldn’t pass up hidden camera footage.