Thursday, March 09, 2006

Marty, That Was Very Interesting Music

So what happens when you play “U Can’t Touch This” and “Superfreak” back-to-back?

Oh child. If only you could have been there.

So it’s Flipper and G-Force’s birthdays, and what do we do one another’s birthdays?

If it’s my birthday? We Ready the Horrible. But if it’s anybody else’s? We daaaaaaaaaance.

Okay, first we eat fourteen tons of pasta. But then! Dancing!

I would like to know when the human body reaches the digesting apex. It’s definitely not after 30. Because first we went to the Olive Garden and then we went to Pleasure Island (which, despite its porntastic name, is actually a part of Disney World, and you’re not allowed to smoke or fling flesh or re-imagine the topiaries in nasty positions, which is totally what I would do were I left unsupervised on property) and I was unable to move without activating the Spew Sensors for at least an hour. Perhaps my attempted definition of “meal” as “seventeen breadsticks and a slab of chocolate” played a role here.

Here’s what I like about Olive Garden, even after you take away its cheesecake: It’s approximately as authentically Italian as Seagrams Golden Wine Coolers, but the staff is so earnestly committed to The Fake, it actually becomes preferable to the salad. There’s nothing quite like sitting in Nebraska as a person with a “Daleesha” nametag asks if signorina would like parmesan on her fettucini alfredo. So when I got lost on my way to the bathroom (this should come as no surprise to any of you) and found myself in the kitchen, the busboy provided me with a personal escort to the Little Bambina’s Room. Like, he offered me his arm. The kitchen staff doesn’t stroll you past your friends to the hand dryers at Applebee’s, no siree!

On to PI! But only the cool kids who can subsist solely on breadsticks are allowed to call it PI!

Let us pause for a moment whilst I explore my love-hate relationship with Walt Disney World. I hate it; I hate it so very much. It’s wholly fabricated, it’s crowded, it owns the solar system from here to Uranus, it charges you to inhale its precious Mickey-shaped oxygen molecules. And yet! I love it; I love it so very much. You’re a princess! You’re on an Imperial speederbike! You’re in France, with actually having to smell France! Oh, Walt. I wish I knew how to quit you.

And at Pleasure Island? You’re in the ‘80’s. We shot to “8-Trax” (which, again, porntastic, but awwwwesome) and it was by far the most populated club in the joint. There were Rubik's Cubes to sit upon and an enormous screen that played actual, non Carson Daly-pockmarked videos, and there was Vanilla Ice and the Weathergirls and pre-frightening Michael Jackson. And a few guys did that thing, you know, that thing where ten million people are attempting to dance a surface with the square footage of a Tic-Tac, so guys will just kind of dance their way over and inch up beside you and all of a sudden ohhhhhhhh, whoops! Look at that! You’re chest-to-boobs!

But Flipper and I are masters of The Redirect, which means that we never make eye contact and simply present the world with our backsides, and Oogie busted out the Look of Death, so our little group danced largely unmolested. It opened an entirely new branch of philosophy: If a guy thinks he’s dancing with you, and indeed is dancing in the same general area you are, but if you never agree to it, and in fact would flick this person directly in the eyeballs if he even asked the favor, are all interested and disinterested parties still, in fact, dancing alone?

We went to The Beach Club, where there was a live band. It was one of theose live bands that take being a live band very, very seriously. They had something like eighteen guitarists, and they all had perfected that True Guitarist Look, the one where to prove how sincere one’s guitaring is, one must appear, facially, to be in a great deal of intestinal distress. “SCREEEEEEEEE!” went the guitarists, in decades-long solos, and one guy played behind his back (“Just to show you can,” Flipper explained) and then, because he wasn’t entirely sure he had quite established himself as having the most sincere pumpkin patch around, he played a few bars with his tongue, which I’ve heard about, but never actually seen. I suppose I was meant to be impressed by this, but what would have been truly sweet was if the drummer had tried that.

Then we went to Mannequins, which has a spinning dance floor, because drunk people + involuntary rotation is always a good idea.

I need to sit down.

Will it ever stop? Yo, I don’t know at: mb@blondechampange.com

20 comments:

dondiaz said...

(no comments posted yet, I can be first again?!)

MB,
so I hear you didn't get shortlisted for a Blooker, but a London callgirl did?! WTF is up with that?!

amy lou the reader said...

Then we went to Mannequins, which has a spinning dance floor, because drunk people + involuntary rotation is always a good idea.

Hee hee...I can't walk down the hallway without twisting my ankle (seriously. I've been on crutches for a week), and they think it's a good idea to make the floor move while giving you alcohol in mass quantities.

Yeah. Remind me never to go to Mannequins.

Russell the Reader said...

I loved Mannequins! And I happened to be there just 4 short days after a snowboarding "incident" in Fairbanks, Alaska. Let's just say that the "incident" left me humbled and wearing an incredibly attractive piece of hardware from foot-to-knee.

Just imagine...spinning dance floor, lots of vodka, an immobilizing boot, and a set of crutches...oh, and we can't forget the percoset. But I did love the crazy blast of liquid nitrogen that shot from the ceiling - that's nearly enough to blast anyone to sobriety.

Peace, love, and drug interactions...

Anonymous said...

2 Observations: #1. I'm glad you included the Disney rationalization...I mean for someone who rips on the house of mouse so much, you sure do spend a lot of time visiting. #2. I don't think you should question why your excercise regiment isn't producing results anymore...from the sound of your diet over the last 2 years, no matter how many crunches or rollerblade twizzles you do, your gonna have some fat issues.

Anonymous said...

wow, that was... kinda harsh. I think mb has made it clear that she loves disney even though she criticizes it. And DUDE. "FAT issues?!?!" have you SEEN the pictures of her?! in the bridesmaid's dress? I think mb is beautiful just as she is and her writing is full of exaggeration and self-criticism, so I'm sure that she's playing up the way she eats for humor and she's well aware of the effect diet has on weight. so don't listen to him mb, just stay healthy and you are GORGEOUS.

Laney said...

Great post MB! Sounds like you guys had fun. I personally enjoy being molested while on the dance floor. The guys molest, then they by drinks, then when it's time to go you tell them they are cute but you like girls. I'm sooooo bad!

amy lou the reader said...

I don't think you should question why your excercise regiment isn't producing results anymore...from the sound of your diet over the last 2 years, no matter how many crunches or rollerblade twizzles you do, your gonna have some fat issues.

Who are you? Simon Cowell?

That was harsh, and as a *truly* full-figured girl I can say that MB does not have "fat issues."

If you can't say anything nice, then don't play in the comboxes.

Mary said...

I love PI! We used to go all the time in college (that and Atlantic Dance over at Disney's Boardwalk Resort before the club became crappy like it is now). Have you tried the Adventurer's Club at PI? My husband got me in there last year and I don't know how I walked by it for so many years! Awesome post MB! Oh, and I didn't say before, loved the head shot you posted the other day!

red pill junkie said...

Man, Walt Disney would turn in his grave... er, I mean cryogenic tank! if he found out what his legacy has turned into.

The only time I went to Disney World I was 7 years old. At that time going on a trip to Orlando, the epicenter of "gringolandia" for us mexicans, was the hippest thing to do. I remember much of the trip vividly, especially considering my father's words of wisdom to me and my sisters during the trip: "Take a real good look at everything you see around, 'cause I ain't NEVER bringing you here anymore!" (He kept his promise too)

Anonymous said...

Dear Anonymous #1:

If you are going to insult our fair hostess, may I suggest that you learn to use "your" in its proper context.

If you're a woman, way to forge the sisterhood. And if you are a man, I feel sorry for your wife or girlfriend. If you have one.

Anonymous said...

(which, despite its porntastic name, is actually a part of Disney World, and you’re not allowed to smoke or fling flesh or imagine the topiaries in nasty positions, which is totally what I would do were I left unsupervised on property)

Heh... well, I discovered what the costumed Disney characters do when left unsupervised thanks to a previous job at a photo lab. My favorite was a picture of Alice being flashed by the White Rabbit.

Dantelope said...

MB, might I suggest turning on the requirement to manually type in the twisted letters before a comment is accepted so we can avoid being accosted by porn.

Not that porn isn't fun, but the choices listed just weren't up to par with my exquisite tastes -- naturally, I prefer mime porn.

Dan

Mike Marchand said...

Whatever happened to going to a dive bar and getting loaded?

MB said...

Hi Mike, where ya been?

You should know as well as I do... that after The Backer, no dive bar can possible compare.

"Legends." Pfffft.

thebuxomwench said...

"Your gonna have some fat issues"?! Fat? MB?! Anon 1, seriously, your (note the absence of "you're" right here)own spelling / grammar issues aside, are your eyes PAINTED on?!

Very funny and enjoyable writing yet again, MB :).

MB said...

Thanks, TBM. I owe you a Caramello Koala :)

Mike Marchand said...

I've been around. Those sex links occupied some time. ;)

I was more of a Club 23 guy myself. The 'Backer was too crowded. Though the music was awesome.

ALL SEVEN AND WE'LL WATCH THEM FALL!
THEY STAND IN THE WAY OF LOVE AND WE WILL SMOKE THEM ALL!
WITH AN INTELLECT AND A SAVOIR-FAIRE!
NO ONE IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE COULD EVER COMPARE!
I AM YOURS NOW AND YOU ARE MINE!
AND TOGETHER WE'LL LOVE THROUGH ALL SPACE AND TIME!
SO DON'T CRYY-YY-YY!
ONE DAY ALL SEVEN WILL DIE!

Miasys said...

See whatcha get for using the word 'porntastic'? eeeuuuw. Seriously though, you made me laugh out loud. Again. Not enough to make me drive to Florida, but I am laughing my hiney off here in Missouri, home of softball-sized hail.

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