Ah, vacations start and end so very quickly. I worked my ass off on Shrink, got insulted for $1600 on a commercial directed and shot by a couple of lame-ass Germans and then BAM! The next thing I know I'm at Disneyland with Melah, Bog, and Lazlo. Joy. Joy of joys we danced down Main Street straight into Tomorrowland and never looked back until we were dancing down Main Street back to the car, our pockets loaded with trinkets and our wallets all but ghost towns. So it goes in the Magic Kingdom®: Walt's dirty Nazi minions and assorted fascist followers wow you with the Indiana Jones ride and the Matterhorn and all the while they're taking money out of your pockets. Still, once every decade it is fun and this time was way more wholesome then the time I went in college on a head full of acid. Tea cups, hooray!
BAM! Next thing I know I'm hiking around the Los Padres National Forest with a gun in my hand tracking wild hogs. The dog did well in that he didn't get lost or die so what more can I expect from his first official hunting trip. It might have gone differently if we had seen any hogs but hey, that's why they call it hunting and not shopping. Melah hung tough out in the bush for two days as well. What a sight: high water floods and combat boots and a runners hat! That's my girl, no sense of fashion. We took a long walk in the mountains and I learned something: No hunting boars on steep hills again! Next time I'm finding some rolling hills next to some agriculture and posting up. There will be blood!
Peace out, bitches!
1 comment:
I know I'm going to have to go back to Disneyland sooner or later, but I don't think it could be any more fun than the mad trip in 1991.
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