When I walk into a blowjob, I’m thinking, “What can I get for a quarter?”

June 2, 2009 22 Comments read Attractions, Pacific, Travel, USA, Washington, West

Waaaaaaaaaaay back on April 19th, a group of super-awesome people converged on Edmonds to declare their allegiance to motorized sports. I had always been under the impression that it was my lack of endurance that prevented me from excelling at group sports; however, riding around in bumper cars that whiz around at 3-4 mph (faster than it sounds, really, on a court that isn’t huge, particularly since the cars lack brakes), I learned an important lesson: It is my lack of coordination that truly contributes to my overall suckitude. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Here is a description of the game, as ripped directly from the Whirlyball website: “Whirlyball is best described as a combination of Basketball, Hockey and Jai-Alai played while riding an electrically powered machine, similar to a bumpercar, called a WhirlyBug. Although the WhirlyBug resembles a bumpercar, it is a far superior machine. Quicker, stronger and far more maneuverable, the WhirlyBug powers you and your team down court in a five on five game. The objective is for each team to effectively pass the whiffle ball between team members and successfully toss the ball through the hole in the backboard of the opposing team. In one hand the player has a Jai-Alai style plastic scoop and in the other hand a steering crank. The ball being tossed around is a softball sized whiffle ball. At each end of the court there are vertically hung backboards with a 15 inch hole in the center. Behind the hole is a netted swing gate equipped with a buzzer or light to notify the referee when a score is made. “ I proved my sports mettle by near immediately dropping my scoop onto the court and, being midget-sized, could not pick it up with my wee-man arms. Then, I ran my whirlybug into a corner and struggled to get out, blocked a member of my own team, and ran over the ball. I became the ‘please don’t pass it to me’ girl. I think I would’ve been more aggressive about trying to play and less self-conscious had I known people out on the court; travelbothroads had injured herself playing football and didn’t want to aggravate the injury, la_roja and evillin sat out, and aelius27 and ravenmimura rotated out as I rotated in. After my humiliating performance, I decided to sit the rest of the games out, but ended up really enjoying watching everyone else. People ended up getting really into the game; you could tell someone was particularly invested when they began pumping their hips when they smacked their car into someone else to give it extra ‘ooomph’. Now that football season is almost over, we’ve decided that a return to Whirlyball is in order this summer, only this time, in post-apocalyptic costumes. We’re calling it WHIRLYBALL: BEYOND THUNDERDOME. Who is in?

Two girls with similar names, similar games, and no shame

April 1, 2009 72 Comments read Attractions, Masticating With Mellzah, Pacific, Travel, USA, Washington, West

This weekend was one of my two long weekends per month, which happily coincided with earthdotprime‘s visit, hereafter referred to as M’ris. I started stalking M’ris on the tubes sometime in…2006, I think. I’m not even sure anymore, it’s like I’m some sort of insidious worm that finds one interesting livejournal and all of a sudden I am friends with half that person’s friends. Anyway, M’ris and I have since separately determined that the other one is either not Internet Crazy or at least crazy in a highly entertaining, most likely non-lethal way, and that we should definitely meet when she was in town. M’ris was at least crazy enough to entrust her life to the terrifying garbagewagon, and so we set off on the road for adventure. The day started off with auspicious signage, portending awesome. Our first stop was the giant metal Lenin, which M’ris promptly scaled. Our second stop was the Fremont Troll, where we witnessed dudes climbing up and flashing gang signs for photographs; we both openly mocked them, and M’ris confessed that she’d never been able to make the Bloods gang sign that apparently everyone learns at summer camp. I spent a few minutes trying to rearrange my sausage fingers into the appropriate arrangement before I realized it was probably not a good idea with y’know, actual gang members hanging around. As soon as they left, we realized we had our theme for the day: Climbing things and flashing gang signs. Here is where I suggested M’ris find a way to slide down the face and straddle the nose. She began contemplating it, and I began to fear that I’d underestimated her potential craziness and exactly how I was going to explain her cracked skull to the internet at large. I’m not going to lie: When she found a way to do it, I was both impressed AND jealous. Here she is as a human Q-tip. I have determined that more pictures need to be taken of me straddling things, throwing the horns, and it might be my new Thing. M’ris is gang-signing, I’m picking the troll’s nose. As you do. Then it was time for some tree-climbing action! Keeping strong with our theme. After tree-climbing, it was time to visit Archie McPhee, because there is never NOT a good time to buy pickle-shaped band-aids. I love double-negatives. The Mac & Cheese one cracks me up every time I see it. M’ris was almost attacked by penguins, but then it was determined that we were all in the same gang, so everything was cool, dawgyo. “Please don’t touch me, I am very expensive and short-tempered”: This is a sign I should probably be wearing, myself. If anyone loves me, they will buy that tacky Sasquatch painting for me. It will hang on the wall next to my Baba Rama Nana! Totally plotting to kill one another. I really, really wanted to buy one of these cockroaches for Napoleon to battle, but the wires in the legs gave me pause, because the last thing I want is a dog with a broken tooth. I totally don’t even care if I have lice now from trying on wigs and hats. Don’t even care. All of that battling works up an appetite, and thus, we went to the Lunchbox Laboratory and executed experiments in deliciousness and pants-expansion. After lunch, we took a bit of a roundabout way back to the car and happened upon a bus stop painted by people on drugs. ONE OF THESE PAINTINGS IS NOT LIKE THE OTHERS. ONE OF THESE PAINTINGS DOES NOT BELONG. We then drove to visit Bruce & Brandon Lee’s graves, only neither one of us managed to determine whereabouts in the cemetary they might be beforehand, so there was a lot of driving around and “I think Brandon’s is a big black twisty headstone. Like, beveled and twisty.” and backing around a corner praying to Cthulhu that I wouldn’t veer off and accidentally back over a headstone and once and for all destroy any chance I ever had at becoming President Mellzah. As it turns out, their graves are hidden behind bushes and we only found them via a stroke of luck. All in all, a very, very awesome day.

“‘Tis a fine barn, but sure ’tis no tidepool, English.” “D’oh-eth!”

March 4, 2009 18 Comments read California, Pacific, Travel, USA, West

On Saturday, my dad and I drove to the Cabrillo National Monument and visited the tidepools; the weather was perfect, and this is the only time of year you can visit, as in the summer, low tide occurs in the middle of the night. From this area, you can look across the bay and see San Diego and Coronado, and if it’s a clear day, you can also see Mexico (specifically, Tijuana). Also in the area is the old Point Loma lighthouse.

This statue marks the place where historians believe conquistador Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo anchored his ship on his ‘voyage of discovery’ and claimed the land for Spain. The area now has a huge military presence, and the military cemetary where my grandfather was interred is less than a mile from this spot.

The rules were pretty simple–if you see a tidepool animal, and you MUST touch it, use one finger and no more pressure than you would use to touch your own eyeball. Don’t pry anything off of the rocks, and just be respectful of the area and the ecosystem. Soooooo, I was pretty angry to watch people’s kids yanking stuff out of the water and stomping on it, with not a single move made by the parents to correct their behavior. There are times in my life where I wish, hope, and pray for a deep blue sea moment. Sadly, it was not to be. This seagull was also flagrantly breaking the rules and eating an octopus.

Mr. Simpson, stop! A barnacle is a living creature!

Anemone! After we hopped around on slick rocks for a couple of hours, the tide started to come back in, and going back the way we came would have been difficult without getting soaking wet. This was less of an issue for my dad, but I only brought one pair of shoes with me on my trip, so I was interested in staying as dry as possible. We ended up having to scramble up these rocks (I’m hesitant to say ‘cliff’ as it wasn’t quite high enough, but it damn well sure felt like one–my upper body is still weak as a baby kitten and needs much more work) to get back up near where we parked the car, which was the price we had to pay for being more adventurous in the hopes of seeing something truly awesome. We both escaped without cracking our heads, so I call this a win.