Disneyland (part 1)

The morning after I won my Disneyland bet with Keaton, we were in his truck and stuck on the dang 5, me all excited, and him going on about how gay the whole thing was.  So I was wondering what it would take to get him to stop saying everything was either gay or super gay and start having a good time.

Plus, if you ask me, all his bitching about Disneyland being gay was getting super gay.

I mean, if you’re gonna wear a chain on your wallet, you should expect to have to take it off to go through a metal detector.

We didn’t get there until 12.  Although the place closed at midnight, I figured we’d have enough to do at Disneyland, so we could skip the “park hopper” ticket which would get us into California Adventure too. I remembered Cars Land being pretty awesome, but Disneyland is Disneyland, and just plain old cooler (and gayer lol) than California Adventure.

As it was, we were each out a hundred bucks. (Paying for my ticket wasn’t part of the bet.)

Anyone who’s seen me at Dodger Stadium, or who knew me at Smokies games when I was a teenager, knows that I can get really excited about things sometimes. That’s kind of where I was when we were going through the Disneyland gates. Anybody who calls that gay is gonna get his ass kicked lol. (Okay, not Keaton. He can probably kick my ass with one hand tied behind his back.)

Our first stop, before we went on any rides, was getting the goofyass hats that were part of the bet. I knew where the hat store is when you come in, since that’s where I got my Woody ear hat there the first time I went. I didn’t bring that with me because I knew what hat I wanted to buy – the big blue Mickey magician hat with Mickey ears. I’d tried it on when I went with Monica and her uglyass sister, but Monica said she wouldn’t walk around with me if I had it on:

IMG_2691

 

Keaton wasn’t getting a choice about walking around with me in the hat…no matter how super gay he told me it made me look.  I thought it was awesome, and of course I looked like an insane idiot. That’s the whole point. It’s fuckin Disneyland.

I let Keaton pick his own hat, although I got to say if it was goofyass enough. So what did he pick? He went for a plush Stitch head hat. Here’s a photo:

IMG_2688

He said that Stitch was at least something of a badass since he knocks shit down. He’s got a point. But he also revealed that he’d seen the movie.

He got the hat on (I’ll say this for Keaton — he doesn’t welch on bets), looked in the mirror, and said that he looked super gay and was going to get back at me for making him wear it.

First stop: Tomorrowland. I mean, it’s the least gay land, and we weren’t going to miss Star Tours and Space Mountain. I got us fastpasses for the second one and we got in line for the first one. I’m not a total Star Wars nerd, Keaton pretends he doesn’t know shit about it…but dang that’s an amazing ride. Even when you don’t know all the planets you’re landing on.  When the ride was over, Keaton even said “ok, bubba, that wasn’t totally gay.”

Next, I reckoned that two good ole Second Amendment supporting boys needed to try the shooting ride – the Buzz Lightyear one. Papaw made sure I was a pretty good shot before he died, and you’ve probably guessed that Keaton has a gun rack in his truck. The problem is that knowing how to shoot doesn’t count for shit when it comes to Buzz Lightyear. We both sucked at it…like sucked so seriously that I’m not even going to tell y’all what our scores were.

At least mine was higher than Keaton’s. So obviously the ride had to be super gay.

I never said my buddy was a good loser lol.

 

One thought on “Disneyland (part 1)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s