They're not. Throw those jeans away and take your decorations down. Immediately. You know who you are, and I know you live on Morris Road in Ambler, PA.
Let me apologize to all of my loyal readers for the lack of blogging. I have no excuse, except that I'm kind of a big deal. Okay, I'm not. I just sorta scrapped the blog thing (unintentionally).
I got back from crashing my sister's family vacation last week. We hit up Disneyland. It was pretty fantastic. The only thing that blew my mind was the hotel room. We stayed at a nice little place that was one block from the park. Our room was right across across from the hotel pool, which was conventiently located in the middle of the parking lot.
Our first night there we kept hearing a loud banging sound. Not knowing what it was, I started guessing. "I bet the pool has a diving board. Yeah, that's gotta be it." I walked over to the window and started parting the curtains so I could confirm my thoughts. "Totally a diving board..." (shuffle shuffle shuffle) "That's what it sounds like every time they jump off." (shuffle shuffle shuffle)
Several minutes into it, I'm still not looking out the window and still fighting with the curtains. They were the never-ending! I looked at my Brother-in-Law. "How the hell many curtains does this window have?!?!" (shuffle shuffle shuffle) I was totally frustrated. He and my sister started laughing, and my BIL opened the room door for me to look out.
Super long story short...it wasn't the damn diving board. It was the stupid fireworks from the park. My village called, they're missing their idiot. But in my defense, that sound really could have passed for people bouncing off a diving board. Plus, that window had at least 25 layers of curtain.
Thankfully, the rest of the vacation was uneventful. The only thing I want to mention is about the exceptionally large amount (no pun intended) of morbidly obese people I noticed in the park. I mean, I'm not one to judge (ha ha ha, I crack myself up), but I think the only reason it was so warm in Disney was because of the friction from all those thighs rubbing together. I saw more fat ass cracks hanging out than I ever care to see ever again. And to think most people thought the Tower of Terror was scary - as far as I was concerned, the general public in the park was HORRIFYING. If they weren't so moist and sweet-smelling, I would've shaken them and told them to pull their pants up or at least tuck their ass cheeks in. It helps that I'm not a toucher, either.
Seriously though, good times were had. And even if Disney in California can kind of be the equivalent of a dry Sea World, I'm cool with that.
Live and let live, right? As far as I'm concerned, curtains are the work of the Devil himself.
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