Sexion8's Master-Pic Theater Vol. 1 - Disneyland
Since I'm not one of the lucky who has a Halloween life this year due to J-Bone's fuggered ankle and the fact that Pineapple has to work, my Halloween post will just have to consist of photos we took while on our mini-trip to Disneyland last week.
I was going to post them anyway because I promised, but I really would've liked to have been able to write up a special update to celebrate Halloween. Oh well, who doesn't love Disneyland photos?
The drive to Disneyland was nothing special as 1.) we'd made the trip a hundred times and cactus doesn't change and 2.) I brought things to read which occupied my mind and attention which made me a boring passenger, I'm sure. I do remember at one point Pineapple popped in a CD he had just burned and...Kelly Clarkson abruptly started wailing throughout the car.
Trying to ignore the vicious assault (not to mention the fact I married a man who once upon a time wouldn't touch anything that wasn't Van Halen or Metallica...you know, BEFORE MTV and subsequent sissifcation of said bands), I continued to read in vain. For half an hour. It was like trying to perform laser surgery while your patient tells you knock-knock jokes. Concentration is an impossibility, in other words.
It wasn't until Pineapple tried to pop in Ashley Simpson that the CD player took matters into it's own wires and, in an electronic voice, threatened to blow up the car with us in it if he didn't immediately remove the audio tumor. It took a good 20 minutes of Howard Stern before steam and emotionless "Kill. Humans. Kill. Humans." stopped emanating from the equipment.
We checked into our hotel, threw our shit on the bed, then ran back out and drove down the street to the theme park. Traffic was very light and there was about less than half the usual tourists there. Can I get a hallelujah for Wednesday mornings? We stowed the car in the 7-story parking garage, and took a shuttle that looked like a space bus to the main entrance. We stared like awed children at the Happiest Place on Earth.
I love Disneyland and I always will. My very first memory of it was when I burnt the shit out of my tongue on hot tea at the outdoor cafe on Main Street. As I sat in my stroller, kicking up a fuss like a maddened bull with braids, the Big Bad Wolf came along and cheered me up. I really should dig up that photo at my mom's house. It's pretty hilarious.
Anyway, you know Disneyland ain't Disneyland without Pirates of the Caribbean.
Like I mentioned, there were only about half the number of tourists there are usually, so the line went very quickly--10 minutes, tops. Floating along in the boat, I listened to a recorded voice asking us to PLEASE DO NOT TAKE FLASH PICTURES AT ANY TIME DURING THE RIDE...so I turned off the flash and snapped away. (I choose to take rules literally because I'm an ass like that.)
There was one cool part of the ride where you're boating along in complete darkness, when suddenly a shower of mist comes cascading down reflecting the image of Davey Jones. Of course, my flash wasn't on, so it came out like this:
Knowing it probably came out like crap (and I was right), I quickly snapped the flash back on to take this one because...well, who wouldn't, it's a famous scene:
That was the only good one that came out, too, for I was repaid for my disobedience of the rules when I developed the rest of the photos and was greeted with beautiful glossy pictures of...blurred something. Oh well, at least I managed to nab a couple of famous and not-so-famous pirates once we were back outside:
(The one on the far right is smiling because he likes bitchy-looking women, apparently.)
After our pirate fix, we made our hurried way over to the Haunted Mansion--another beloved favorite:
Did you know they tweaked it into Nightmare Before Christmas? Neither did I.
After much laughter and personal delight that a lot of kids shrieked in genuine fear at the sight of floating ghosts and Sandy Clause, we walked out into the gorgeous nighttime with a fare thee well from this gentleman:
After wandering around, riding rides and eating complete junk at restaurants so expensive they had layaway plans, we heard the trumpety fanfare and brightly colored fireworks signalling the start of the nightly parade.
We quickly pushed our way through the crowds towards Main Street and secured a not half-bad spot. Meaning it would've been an outstanding spot if this one fat lady with her fat herd of calfs weren't occupying about 20 feet of available curb in front of us.
Magical floats and balletic dancers in full regalia passed us by, each more magnificent than the last. Over here we have The Lion King, with a giant-sized Rafiki cavorting underneath a fiberglass overhanging cliff on top of which stood the noble Simba. There was also this cool waterfall on it made from...I don't know what, but it was a good replica of water.
(No photo here as I was down to 3 left in my disposable camera)
Then came Beauty and the Beast, with namesake characters dancing on top of spiral stairs as a huge chandelier sparkled above them. Behind them spun a giant-sized Teacup as a giant-sized Candlestick sang "Be Our Guest". The glass vase holding a glittering rose trailed behind them. Awwwww.
(No photo here, either. What, you're not enjoying my descriptive descriptions?)
A bunch of other Disney things went by as I got increasingly annoyed with the fat family snorfling 2 feet in front of us. I nearly impaled the youngest heiffer with a bbq skewer when her oozing ice cream cone went plop! right down on my brand new kicks. GO TO TOONTOWN, YOU MELTYBEASTS! THEY'VE GOT ALL KINDS OF STUFF FOR TODDLERS OVER THERE, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN MY PARADE THAT I ONLY GET TO SEE ONCE EVERY FEW YEARS?!
Then...
THE float I saved my last 3 pictures on rolled majestically around the corner and into our line of vision. lezopez? These are for you, love:
It was a real bitch calling Ariel so she'd look our way, too. I've got a loud voice when I need it, but there is no way in Hades' soul-killing river I could ever hope to out-shout a million 5 year olds. But by the grace of Kodak, she looked in our general direction once more so I could take the second to last photo:
The last one I wanted to save for my ice cream-ruined shoe, but then Ursula came along and...well, just look at her expression:
Then it was over. Our time at Disneyland had come to an end and it was time to jostle our way to the space-age shuttle back to our car. But the trip wasn't over yet, for tomorrow...UNIVERSAL STUDIOS PHOTOS!
To be continued...
I was going to post them anyway because I promised, but I really would've liked to have been able to write up a special update to celebrate Halloween. Oh well, who doesn't love Disneyland photos?
The drive to Disneyland was nothing special as 1.) we'd made the trip a hundred times and cactus doesn't change and 2.) I brought things to read which occupied my mind and attention which made me a boring passenger, I'm sure. I do remember at one point Pineapple popped in a CD he had just burned and...Kelly Clarkson abruptly started wailing throughout the car.
Trying to ignore the vicious assault (not to mention the fact I married a man who once upon a time wouldn't touch anything that wasn't Van Halen or Metallica...you know, BEFORE MTV and subsequent sissifcation of said bands), I continued to read in vain. For half an hour. It was like trying to perform laser surgery while your patient tells you knock-knock jokes. Concentration is an impossibility, in other words.
It wasn't until Pineapple tried to pop in Ashley Simpson that the CD player took matters into it's own wires and, in an electronic voice, threatened to blow up the car with us in it if he didn't immediately remove the audio tumor. It took a good 20 minutes of Howard Stern before steam and emotionless "Kill. Humans. Kill. Humans." stopped emanating from the equipment.
We checked into our hotel, threw our shit on the bed, then ran back out and drove down the street to the theme park. Traffic was very light and there was about less than half the usual tourists there. Can I get a hallelujah for Wednesday mornings? We stowed the car in the 7-story parking garage, and took a shuttle that looked like a space bus to the main entrance. We stared like awed children at the Happiest Place on Earth.
I love Disneyland and I always will. My very first memory of it was when I burnt the shit out of my tongue on hot tea at the outdoor cafe on Main Street. As I sat in my stroller, kicking up a fuss like a maddened bull with braids, the Big Bad Wolf came along and cheered me up. I really should dig up that photo at my mom's house. It's pretty hilarious.
Anyway, you know Disneyland ain't Disneyland without Pirates of the Caribbean.
Like I mentioned, there were only about half the number of tourists there are usually, so the line went very quickly--10 minutes, tops. Floating along in the boat, I listened to a recorded voice asking us to PLEASE DO NOT TAKE FLASH PICTURES AT ANY TIME DURING THE RIDE...so I turned off the flash and snapped away. (I choose to take rules literally because I'm an ass like that.)
There was one cool part of the ride where you're boating along in complete darkness, when suddenly a shower of mist comes cascading down reflecting the image of Davey Jones. Of course, my flash wasn't on, so it came out like this:
Knowing it probably came out like crap (and I was right), I quickly snapped the flash back on to take this one because...well, who wouldn't, it's a famous scene:
That was the only good one that came out, too, for I was repaid for my disobedience of the rules when I developed the rest of the photos and was greeted with beautiful glossy pictures of...blurred something. Oh well, at least I managed to nab a couple of famous and not-so-famous pirates once we were back outside:
(The one on the far right is smiling because he likes bitchy-looking women, apparently.)
After our pirate fix, we made our hurried way over to the Haunted Mansion--another beloved favorite:
Did you know they tweaked it into Nightmare Before Christmas? Neither did I.
After much laughter and personal delight that a lot of kids shrieked in genuine fear at the sight of floating ghosts and Sandy Clause, we walked out into the gorgeous nighttime with a fare thee well from this gentleman:
After wandering around, riding rides and eating complete junk at restaurants so expensive they had layaway plans, we heard the trumpety fanfare and brightly colored fireworks signalling the start of the nightly parade.
We quickly pushed our way through the crowds towards Main Street and secured a not half-bad spot. Meaning it would've been an outstanding spot if this one fat lady with her fat herd of calfs weren't occupying about 20 feet of available curb in front of us.
Magical floats and balletic dancers in full regalia passed us by, each more magnificent than the last. Over here we have The Lion King, with a giant-sized Rafiki cavorting underneath a fiberglass overhanging cliff on top of which stood the noble Simba. There was also this cool waterfall on it made from...I don't know what, but it was a good replica of water.
(No photo here as I was down to 3 left in my disposable camera)
Then came Beauty and the Beast, with namesake characters dancing on top of spiral stairs as a huge chandelier sparkled above them. Behind them spun a giant-sized Teacup as a giant-sized Candlestick sang "Be Our Guest". The glass vase holding a glittering rose trailed behind them. Awwwww.
(No photo here, either. What, you're not enjoying my descriptive descriptions?)
A bunch of other Disney things went by as I got increasingly annoyed with the fat family snorfling 2 feet in front of us. I nearly impaled the youngest heiffer with a bbq skewer when her oozing ice cream cone went plop! right down on my brand new kicks. GO TO TOONTOWN, YOU MELTYBEASTS! THEY'VE GOT ALL KINDS OF STUFF FOR TODDLERS OVER THERE, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN MY PARADE THAT I ONLY GET TO SEE ONCE EVERY FEW YEARS?!
Then...
THE float I saved my last 3 pictures on rolled majestically around the corner and into our line of vision. lezopez? These are for you, love:
It was a real bitch calling Ariel so she'd look our way, too. I've got a loud voice when I need it, but there is no way in Hades' soul-killing river I could ever hope to out-shout a million 5 year olds. But by the grace of Kodak, she looked in our general direction once more so I could take the second to last photo:
The last one I wanted to save for my ice cream-ruined shoe, but then Ursula came along and...well, just look at her expression:
Then it was over. Our time at Disneyland had come to an end and it was time to jostle our way to the space-age shuttle back to our car. But the trip wasn't over yet, for tomorrow...UNIVERSAL STUDIOS PHOTOS!
To be continued...