Vacation? What the hell is that?

I’ve never been a vacation kind of person.  It’s not that I don’t like vacations, or that I think people should work harder and all that sort of Protestant crap, I was just work focused. One might say I was overly focused, and one would be right.  What I’m trying to say here, is that the last vacation I’ve taken was in early 1995.  The Littlest Lesbian, back before she gave in to the homosexual agenda and decided to become queer, and I, drove up to Bismarck, North Dakota, with a few day stop in Yellowstone.

Between 1995 and today, I’ve not gone anywhere on vacation, to do anything, with or without anyone.  No family vacations, no trips with the Lesbian to Disneyland, no going to the ocean or to Yosemite, even though those places are a couple hours from here, no cross country jaunts for my baby to remember…

No vacations for ME to remember, never mind the kid. What? She needed a vacation from playing? Please.

Looking out the front glass of my big ole Peterbilt at too much goddamned traffic all the time, was my vacation. Disneyland, my ass.  I gotchur Disney vacation right here, you ungrateful little whelp. Why, I’ll have you know that I was working my poor, arthritic fingers to the bone, to the bone, I tell you, working so that you could have a roof over your head where you’d have a place to indulge in your disgusting homosexual activities.  Disney vacation, indeed.

…um…ok, that may be just a little bit disingenuous. (For you Ron Paul supporters, “disingenuous” means I was largely bullshitting you. Kind of like when Paul says he’s not a racist and doesn’t hate Jews. Kinda like that. Oh, no…wait. I’m wrong. Those are lies, that’s what those are. Well…) 

The truth is that I feel, not guilt, but gross regret, that I didn’t harness my workaholism and do things with Jeny like taking her on vacations once or twice a year. No, there’s was nothing neglectful about it, exactly, but I robbed her of some good experiences and memories. (Well, maybe not. Her mother would have gone along, too, I suppose…)  And just because she’s a good girl and I love her, and, coincidentally,  I wanna suck up to her for not taking her on vacations, not that she has ever complained about it more than a dozen fucking times, she and one of her wild lesbian friends, who lives way down deep in Mexico somewhere, are forcing allowing me to send her to Mexico this spring.

Do a few days in Mexico, draining her poor, disabled, retired father’s meager bank account down toward dirt, make up for 22 years of no vacations? The fuck I care? At least the little bitch will be off my back about it…

Now, on to me.  The Emporium is my fucking blog, after all…

Today I began a ten day vacation, if you can believe that, and I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe it. I never lie to you people, and even if I did, why would I lie about this?  Plus, why I’m talking about whether I am or am not lying to you people, I have no idea. Most of the time, my fingers are telling me what I’m saying, not the other way around, as odd as that probably sounds. Yet…I digress, not that that is anything new. I digress as a game plan half the time, whatever that means. If you guys can figure out what it means, let me know alright?  Actually, you don’t have to let me know what it means, it’s something, digression, that my brain does all on it’s own. It’s how it works.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, my ten day vacation…

I began it today, by not going to physical therapy.  Nor am I going to take a shower or shave, not gonna put on clean clothes, not going anywhere, and I’m not doing anything, except I am planning on a considerable amount of herbal palliation of my chronic and debilitating pain, well under way at the present time.  In short, unlike most days, today, I ain’t doin’ nuthin’ but relaxing, playing on the internet, eating and napping. And drinking coffee.  Mayhap wax the ole dolphin this evening…

And, then, tomorrow morning, early, I’m leaving for Disneyland.

You didn’t now there was a Disneyland in Texas, did you?  Sure is, and talk about Matterhorns…damn!  Hey, you ride your ride, I’ll ride mine, Ace.

Alright, alright…just to show you people that I can be all romantical and shit, this is THE woman. Not a woman, mind you, not some woman, but THE woman. (“The” is pronounced THEEEE) See what I’m sayin’ here?

No, huh?

Well, when big macho womanizing and philandering men, such as m’self, use THE in the way I have, we do that so we don’t have to say anything like “I love this woman to death, and want to spend what few remaining good years I have left with her. Her tit size has nothing to do with anything.”  Using THE is one of the ways we studs of the world indicate that this particular woman is taken, and is now a permanent member of a fine herd.  The shorthand for that is, MINE, back off. (Unless you’re a really buxom chick interested in a three way, then we can talk.)

Just to show you how committed and insane about Busty I really am, I loathe flying…no, no I’m not the least bit afraid to fly, I just don’t like it or anything about it…and I will have to take four goddamned flights to get to the deepest part of Texas and back. But, fly I shall, and I’ll even try to enjoy it, though how that’s possible, I dunno.

Do you SEE the things I will do just to be around THE woman? Don’t tell ME that’s not love and dedication.

ACK!

Did I say the L word?
No, asshole, you said “love.” As you know baby talk in place of adult English is not tolerated here at The Emporium.  Here, one even has the freedom to say nigger.
Why would anyone want to say that?
I’m just saying…
Yeah, but I’m macho and shit, and we don’t say, for example, I love THE woman. That would sound stupid.
Yes, yes it would. Why don’t you shut up, Ace? You sound stupid.
Alright, good idea, but let me finish this post first, ok?
Sure, but make it snappy, I have to take a piss.
I’ll be as quick as I can be. Just hold it.
Alright. 

I will, of course, be checking in, and letting you know how things are going and all of that.

…assuming I can type with the keys all covered with spooge…