Tuesday, June 15, 2004

A few hours ago, I returned from the Happiest Place on Earth. And if I never see Mickey Fucking Mouse again, it will be too soon.

Okay, okay... it wasn't the worst vacation ever. In fact, it was fun. But relaxation and wholesomeness don't interest readers, you know what I mean? You people want edgy sarcasm. You want to read about how crazy I got when, every time Bradykins and I did something, we were accompanied by Father and Mother Bradykins... Brother and Sister-In-Law Bradykins... and 5- and 8-year-old Nephew Bradykinses.

In a minivan.

You want to read stories about sex interrupted by children pounding their tiny little fists on bedroom doors. About wine bottles taken to the parking lot and tossed in the dumpster, lest they be found by the parents. About sneaking cigarettes in the bathroom while standing on the toilet to get nice and close to the vent fan. About storming up to the fat, nasty parents yelling at their fat, cranky children and sunnily advising them, "You're in the Happiest Place on Earth, so put a smile on your face and a bounce in your step, and sing, sing, sing," while you lift their wallets.

But you won't get that here. Nuh-uh.

I was wholesome, and it was good. I rode in a minivan without embarrassment. I corralled the Nephew Bradykinses across the Magic Kingdom. I got caught in a rainstorm at Epcot and didn't complain. I stood for hours in the sweltering sun at Disney-MGM Studios until Buzz Woody McLightsaber or whatever the hell his name is signed autographs for the kids.

I even held off on Friday night drinking until almost 11:00. That's PM, by the way. (I'm very smart and know what you were thinking.)

I even learned a lesson: I have no clue who 84% of the current crop of Disney cartoon characters are. I also don't particularly care. After a while, they all started to look alike.

Anyway, now I'm back, and it's time to ease myself back into my life of debauchery. I think I'll start tonight at Happy Hour.

Oh -- two other things:

1. Remember how I fell last week and joked about bruising a rib? Well, it still hurts like hell 6 days later. I don't think I was joking.

2. The JFK AirTrain totally rocks! Midtown to the terminal in less than an hour for $7, with no confusion. JFK is now the most accessible airport in the New York area.

Oh, and one other thing: thanks for not burning the blog down while I was out of town.

Now I have to go sort through 227 e-mail messages. Later, kids!