The second happiest place on Earth.

Boasting more turkey legs per square mile than any other theme park in the world! Sorry about the lack of updates. Although I did appreciate that the anti-Johansson post was getting the attention it deserved. I just need everyone's sizes and fourteen dollars. Then we'll let the world know! (Mousepads and coffee mugs also available.) Anyway, I've been fairly distracted this week. With a little of this and that, but the big thing was our random trip to Six Flags.

It started with a mention that Emily was off work on Tuesday. In my mind this can only mean Six Flags. I said it, people laughed. But when I showed up at 9:00 AM at their houses demanding they get in my car they took it more seriously. We were off.

On arriving at the park we saw all the normal things. The whiny brat kids. The barely controlled youth group all wearing their bright neon green shirts. And finally, my favorite, the ultra-patriotic flag and animal shirt. Not a wolf shirt, but just as good.

Goes nicely with his bird legs.

What must his morning have been like? "Let's see here, button up eagle shirt. Check. Blue blockers. Check. Tiny mustache and contempt for reading. Check and check. Everybody in the car!"

Now if you're going to Six Flags, there are a few things you must remember. 1.) Take nothing seriously. Because you'll be pretty sorely dissapointed. And 2.) Try to arrive on a Tuesday when the forcast warns of rain. If you remember those two things you'll be set up nicely for this.

Apparently the location of the Batcave really is secret.

See that? No lines. And this is for the Batman. The flagship ride of Six Flags. We rode it in the front, repeatedly. Nobody here yet? Fine, let's just stay on it. Kind of a tourture test because it's one hell of a ride, but still. How often do you get the chance? I considered it astronaut training.

After that we were off to Superman: Tower of Power. As seen below.

Paging Dr. Freud.

As symbols of male verility go, Superman is already a pretty potent one. Then they give him this ridiculously phallic ride. Seriously. The homoerotic overtones coming off this shaft thrusting people skyward and back down, all while a heavily muscled spandex clad man looks on, are enough to make anyone a little uncomfortable. Fortunately there was a nearby picture of Lois Lane that I could ogle publicly.

The ride itself is fairly good. You're slowly raised to the top, then at a random moment, in random order you're dropped back toward earth. I'm sorry. That's incorrect. You're propelled toward the Earth. There's no gradual build up of speed as you fall. Zero to Seventy Five miles an hour in not much more than two seconds. It doesn't so much take your stomach as force it into your throat.

Naturally we expirimented with pennies falling at the same speed as us. Some pseudo-zero G can liven up any ride. Until they started checking hands before you go up. I was fast enough to shove my change into the band of my watch, but Barrett got busted. Probably because of all the times he failed to grab his penny again, allowing it to slam back to earth. Sometimes across the park as a result of his slapping them forcebly in an attempt to catch them.

Taken moments before impact.

After the Superman ride, we were moving across the park. I spotted those amazing huge playgrounds parks sometimes have. I had to go down that three story slide. I didn't care. So I promptly began scaling the structure. Once I got to a good vantage point I decided to take a picture. Above you can see everyone chillin' on a bench. And some little girl in a garish orange dress.

Anyway, just after the picture I ran up to the top. Or tried to. Little did I know there was a low beam ahead, and I ran forcefully into it. My neck popped from just under my head down to my shoudlers and I dropped like it was my calling in life. After the stars cleared I realized that I wasn't damaged or paralyzed and continued my quest... Only to be shut down by the slide guard. That rat bastard.
"What do you want?" he asked me.
"A third arm."
"You can't go down the slide."
"Not even if I accompany my cousin Thomas down?!" I said grabbing the little boy who had followed me up.
"No," replied the douche. I sighed, turned to the child and said "Sorry Tommy" and walked back down.

Wait, you mean there's Turkey Legs?!

Where's the exit? Where's the roller coasters? Who knows. The most easily found thing will always be turkey legs. It's park law.

After we had ridden everything (that was open) several times, we decided we'd had enough seven dollar sodas, and that it was perhaps time to go. And that was our day. Which was actually still young so we went shopping! That was, of course, my best textual flamboyantly gay intonation. But that's another story. This one's long enough. And I have more topics to post on.

- Scott