When you’re on the ferris wheel..
Your friend shakes it:
& you’re like:
California Adventure
THIS is truly how I feel about Ferris Wheels.
(Source: alltheway-bigtime)
89060(Source: ninjawiththebladeandthemask, via chewieskywalker)
That awkward moment when you’re just minding your pumpkin business and spinning and then you run into a super tall, masculine carrot.
(via lmaogtfo)
20970Penguins. They’re evil.
Most of my close friends know that I am a sphenisiphobiac to extreme, and that I cannot even be near the creatures. Even a replica of one can send me into spastic screams and squeaks that most would think belonged to a mouse being strangled, or tiny piglet separated from it’s mother.
What is Sphenisciphobia you say? Let me clue you in, spheniscidae is the family name for penguins. Penguins, those oh so adorable creatures that live in Antartica and all over spots in the world. Yes, I am deeply afraid of penguins.
That is my general reaction to most things that have any resemblance to a penguin, much to the delight of friends and family. Ever since my fear developed, friends and family have used this to full advantage. One time, while at a sleep over, some friends thought it would be brilliant to place a stuffed penguin next to me so I could awaken to it’s malevolent face in the morning.
This is what normal people see:
:
This is what I see:
I suppose the blood curdling screams and me locking myself in the bathroom for fifteen minutes was worth if for my friends. Hey, whatever floats your sadistic little boat.
I suppose the fear started after I began to have reoccurring nightmares when I was eight. Now, I usually have dreams that would make most acid users jealous, but this one takes the cake.
It starts out rather normally (for a dream). I am walking through the Sahara desert, there is nothing in sight but giant hills of sand. I am lost, the sun is high, and I am absolutely clueless as to why I am in the desert or as to why I am wearing an outfit I had when I was six years old.
Then, they appear.
Over the largest hill, I see figures align at the top. I shade my face with my hand and squint. They are penguins, and not just any penguins. Penguins armed with guns. Laser guns.
Picture that coming over the horizon, but with laser guns, and in the desert. Yeah.
As I stood there in awe at the sheer epicness of this image, it occurred to me that I might be in the way. Alas, before I could move, a turban-wearing octopus riding a hippo commanded the penguins to charge. “CHARGE LADS! GIVE HER BLOOD ‘N VINEGAR!” This is when I turned tail and fled.
You think being the bipedal human in this situation that I would have the advantage, especially with my pursuers being penguins who simply cannot run well and are burdened by laser guns. False.
The penguins were quickly gaining ground, I could hear their grunts and cries of rage as I ran swiftly through the desert. All hope seemed lost.
Then, my savior came. In the form of a giant corndog.
Seemingly out of nowhere, I giant corndog appeared. It wasn’t standing per se, just sort of hovering over the sand.
Suddenly, it developed a mouth and began to speak to me. “Do you need a ride little girl?” Usually, one would hear this from a creepy man in van that has “Free Candy” scrawled on the side, but with the looming doom of penguins nearing I gladly agreed to get on. And yes, I know, totally Freudian dream.
As I was riding the corn dog, I could see the penguins slowly becoming farther and farther in the distance. Feeling self assured and safe, I suddenly realized I was hungry. I then proceeded to eat my ride. Do not ask how one eats the object upon which they are riding, these things just happen in my dreams.
Soon, the penguins were gaining on me. One again, I could hear their war cries floating over the sand. It was terrifying.
Finally, I fell into a sand pit. They surrounded me. Their eyes began to glow red. It was all about to end when…
I awoke.
My bed was thoroughly drenched in sweat, and my dog was staring at me like I had just asked her to recite the seven works of Proust backwards to her. I figured I had probably started talking in my sleep again. It happened to be a Saturday, so I did what any eight year old would do to recover trauma experienced the previous night. Go and melt my brains with cartoons.
Still, this same dream plagued me for the next four years. I don’t know why or what significance it has but it just did. To this day, I will not eat corndogs nor will I go anywhere near Seaworld.
I still think Penguins are evil.
Long ago, there was no television and radio was the only way to get media entertainment. My father, being raised by old people, used to rely heavily on the radio for his amusement and in his youth discovered a show called Dr. Demento. A comedy show full of skits, songs, and anything ridiculous and silly. Dr. Demento is probably most well known for giving Weird Al Yankovich his start. Here is one of my favorite pieces, Bulbous Bouffant. It’s amazing, glorious, you need to listen.
The Adventure of the month!
Hmm… Hello human, I see you have stumbled across my blog, well hopefully we can become more familiar with each other. I am Quirkachu, a rather quirky Quirkachu, and you are? … Yes, but of course of course. You seem like quite the amiable chap, yes indeed.
Come now, come into my den. It shall be glorious.
Why does it look like the set from Masterpiece Theater? BECAUSE IT IS! Don’t mind the man in the corner there, he is a ginger and therefore has no soul so it’s cool. Now let’s settle in, I shall light a fire and tell you my adventure of the month…
It all started a few weeks back, on a perfectly lovely Friday afternoon. It was the last opportunity for taking pictures for the college yearbook, and I expected that to be the climax of my day. Little did I know.
I was called by my dear friend, who I shall call “Ellie” and asked if I wanted to go on an adventure to see her younger sister cheer at a football game. It was her younger sister’s first time cheering, and Ellie had once been a cheerleader and was so very proud of her.
It was a long drive (I didn’t realize how long till we were actually on the drive) but I accepted. And then we were off. It was a long drive, lots of freeways, the usual. We had an incredibly deep talk, all that stuff. Then, it happened, we realized we were in the middle of nowhere.
Now, living in a highly populous area, you would think we were exaggerating. I. Am. Not. You know those old windmills? The one you only see in period pieces involving the early twenties in the midwest?
Yes, those. Windmills, windmills everywhere! And they were old, and rusty, and there were actual barns. Ranches, and things you can only imagine.
When we finally reached the school, we were starving. Yet, I must say this, across from the school were abandoned houses. That’s right, not just one house, houses. ABANDONED. Full on pieces of walls missing and roofs caved in. After seeing this, we went up to buy our tickets to get into the game.
Did I mention I live in California? Yes, California, home of Hollywood and Los Angeles, and one of the most populous states in the US. Yet, I felt like I was in the middle of hickville. In line, there were, I kid you not, an obese man riding a “courtesy” scooter and other guys who were either truckers or just plain hicks. The ladies selling tickets? One was wearing a shirt that had American flags all across them and the other one looked like she was 9 months pregnant. This is when I finally decided we had truly reached the middle of nowhere.
We bought our tickets, and then pretty much begged to know where the nearest place with food was. The ladies pointed in a vague direction and said it was the main road and there was a grocery store. When we got to the “main road” it was made of dirt. Yep…
Anywho, the true adventure starts when we find our Nirvana. A RESTAURANT! YES! A glorious altar to the food gods was there! Ellie parked, we jumped out of the car and ran towards the door and- It had a closed sign on it.
After wailing in agony for a full two minutes, a woman walks up and says in possibly the weirdest drawl I have ever heard “Oh she’s still open baby, just you walk on in.” So we checked, and sure enough, the door was unlocked. Our hope was restored!
We walked in and let the woman go ahead, since we needed to look at the menu. The lady at the counter was rocking back and forth, to which the other woman asked “What the heck you doin’ Betty?” She responded with “I HAVE TO PEE REALLY BAD!” That was where the true encounter of a lifetime began.
After this, the woman who was ordering (whom we shall call Marge) literally would go back and forth with her order, leaning out the door and talking to her brother, Bob (yes that is his name). Bob came up with his dog, from his truck, and was wearing a shirt that said “Will work for gambling money!” Marge, then proceeded to go to the bathroom and told us to order while she went. Yes, MARGE went to the bathroom, not the cashier.
We ordered our food, and then the cashier told us that the lady working on the frier was the owner of the restaurant and 75% deaf. She then made some motions to her and the lady grabbed… Ziploc bags. Yes, out of the freezer she grabbed ziploc bags of food. Not the industrially sealed kind, just regular ziploc bags. They contained fries, meat, veggies, you name it. Suddenly, my appetite started to wane.
At this point, me and Ellie started exchanging glances and continued trying to contain our delight in the ridiculousness of the situation.
Then he came. It was glorious.
An old man entered the restaurant, and forever cemented my opinion of that small town. You know those old mountain men? (The one as pictured above) The ones that supposedly died off with another era (much like the windmills)? He embodied them to a tee. His beard was down to his belt, his hair was unkempt and gave the air of “I don’t give a f***”, and distributed throughout his beard and hair was a thick layer of leaves and twigs. Though, he did seem like a legit and majestic mountain man, not one of the psychos that runs off to a cabin in the middle of the wilderness and writes their manifesto.
While waiting for our food, Marge, her brother Bob, his dog, and the old mountain man decide to surround me and Elli in a semi circle, leaving us pinned between them and the counter that had most likely never been replaced since it was built in 1954. We were trapped, completely utterly trapped. Marge began to ask us about where we went to school and why we were down here in a place like this. We eventually got around the topic of her young 12 year old daughter, Marge then went into how she smart she was and helped her “figur’ out the math to pay the bills. She is just so dang smart, they may move her up out of pre-algrebra and into algebra 1.” She then commented on the lack of her own intelligence and made retard sign on her chest.
Fortunately, our food could not come at a more opportune moment. We said our goodbyes to our new friends (and I got a wink from the old mountain man) and we walked rather hurriedly back to the car. Once in the car, needless to say, we laughed our asses off. Amidst the laughter, we also realized how hungry we still were. So we drove back over to the field.
We had a blast from there, Ellie got to see her little sister cheer and we got to watch the dry lightning storms off in the distance. It might have been a weird adventure but it was a great one.
5
