My Disneyland-Banned

Ever since I was a kid I have loved to "people watch". If it were a sport you could be sure that I would have turned pro out of Jr. High and by now would be one of those egomaniacal jerks who refer to themselves only in the third person. It has always entertained me. The weird things people do, say and wear have brought me endless hours of amusement.
Just like any sport there are proper places to play it. Sure you can play football in your living room but it's so much better out in an open field. The two best places to people watch are stores and amusement parks. In the category of stores there are two elements: you have the trendy spots like malls where everyone is simply there to be buy something to impress others or to show off the things they already purchased in order to impress others; you also have the other places where people have to go and don't necessarily care what they look like. I call this place Wal-mart. Since, however, there is already a whole site dedicated to the denizens who troll this wonderland of rejects, my blog must focus on the other option-amusement parks-Disneyland in particular.
I returned to the so called Happiest Place on Earth with my lovely bride in hand to enjoy an afternoon of frivolity without our children (thanks again, Grandma). While we rode rides and experienced all sorts of enjoyable memories, we were subjected to an abnormally large quantity of odd people. As I began to notice the increasing number of troglodytes, dolts and ne'er-do-wells I felt compelled to keep track and develop some sort of system for culling the undesirables. So I came upon an idea to: a) let people stay and enjoy themselves; b) kick them out of the park for the day (and any subsequent day I would be in attendance); or c) ban them for life. The last was my favorite option.
As we arrived at the park I quickly noticed that a lot of people, young and old alike were wearing Ed Hardy T-shirts. BANNED! If you disagree with my decision allow me to inform you of two things: 1) I don't pay for this site, it's free and you can start your own pro-Ed Hardy blog anytime you want to do so; 2) you are now dangerously close to being banned as well.
While standing in line for Tower of Terror I came upon a scene I had not been witness to since leaving the relative "ghetto" of Vallejo, Ca for the valley. I'll try to be appropriate here and not be too descriptive but she literally (and I use that word literally, not as a hyperbole), I repeat literally had a shelf extending from her lower back to the furthest point of her booty. She made J-Lo look like an old man who can't keep his pants up. I don't wish to ban her however; I don't wish to see that ever again. So she will be asked to vacate the premises for the day. Please feel free to come back any of the other 195 days of the year that my season pass is blocked out.
Allow me to preface these next comments by stating that I am not a hugger. I much prefer handshakes. I certainly don't like hugs from other guys. That being said, I will give a lifetime pass to the guy who wore a t-shirt with a picture of two hands shaking and underneath it was written say no to hugs. I am definitely in favor of that sentiment. I don't do this sort of thing but if "say no to hugs" had a Facebook page, I would become a fan.
There was only one long line-Toy Story Mania, well worth it to be sure and it afforded me an extra amount of time to people watch. If I had my way, the line would have been much shorter as many of those standing in queue would have been banned.
Not too far from us in this line was a veritable treasure trove of degenerates. My favorite was the next generation of the jersey shore cast. With their over pomaded hair and apparent lengthy sessions in the tanning bed, they were just the sort of falderal to be banned. Nearby them was a guy wearing a t-shirt that had different types of martial arts written on it. It was a championship shirt. It listed all of the different tournaments he had won. BANNED! A real ninja doesn't advertise. Directly across from us was a guy wearing a shirt that had "streetwise" written across it. If you wear a shirt that says streetwise, I think that is a pretty good indicator that you are not "street" and far from wise.
There was also a guy who was wearing a Dodger hat, now normally that alone is not enough to get you banned for life, just the days I am there (I have no desire to hobnob with Dodger fans-and yes I realize my wife is a Dodger fan, but to every rule there is an exception). The reason I wish to ban him is that he was trying to look all thug or gangster...errr...gangsta or ghetto or whatever adjective best describes someone trying to intimidate and stare down the other people in line with him waiting to shoot a cartoon canon at virtual midway games.
Also in line to shoot imaginary eggs at imaginary farm animals was a real desperate orange county housewife. With her white, linen pants, air of entitlement and over-applicated spray on tan, she gets to stay-mostly because I think it's hilarious to imagine her sitting in the Toy Story buggy with legs crossed and arms folded obviously too good for such childishness.
I would like to inform the girl with the Flashdance, off the shoulder sweater and headband that she is not Jennifer Beals and this is not 1985. BANNED! Speaking of the 80's, we took in the Captain EO tribute that is playing in tomorrow land. It would be better if it were playing in yesterday land. What was once groundbreaking, state of the art film technology is now worse than a movie you would see on theSyfy channel (and subsequently The Soup). The costumes were horrible and, despite the raucous cheers of the people behind me, Michael Jackson was laughable as the far out space captain. Every time he spoke I just wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of this soprano voice in the white, bedazzled space suit. I have to say that I think Dule Hill (better known as Gus from Psych) does a way better and infinitely more entertaining Michael Jackson than Michael Jackson.
I saw an extremely corpulent woman with a RUN DMC t-shirt on. I would just like to add a comma to that shirt and say RUN, DMC for your life! Then there were the two guys scooting around on electrical convenience vehicles. They both looked like they were just fine and they both were with their respective spouses who were left to wrangle the millions of kids and they had with them. You lazy punks need to get off your butts and help your wives. I am not sure what great evil these women committed to be saddled with these two but it must have been pretty bad.
To the pot-bellied man in the shape-ups: Do you always believe everything you see? Oh, and no pair of shoes will be able to fix what you got going on there. BANNED! Also banned for life are the people who wear ponchos on a water ride. Either don’t go on the ride or take your chances and pray you don't get wet. If you want to enjoy the ride, then enjoy it as it was intended. If you want to stay dry then go play in the desert.
So that you don't think I am only a hater, I would like to offer a lifetime pass to the family in front of us. When their little boy wouldn't behave, they followed up on their threat to leave the line that they had been waiting in for 20 minutes. I applaud you and if I ever see you again, I will be happy to let you take cuts in front of me.
But I would be remiss if I didn't include the best spectacle of the day before I closed these observations. I am referring to the Mexican Elvis cruising Main Street. Complete with Elvis shades and huge pompadour, he was wearing a black trench coat and trying to look incognito, just like the real Elvis (who is currently in witness protection). He was hilarious, trying to pass himself off as the real Elvis despite the fact that the real Elvis is neither Mexican nor in Los Angeles (my sources tell me he is managing a Piggly-Wiggly just outside Mobile, Al).
We had a good day and enjoyed ourselves immensely. On our way out we were treated to the overzealous hand gestures of the crowd traffic controllers (distant cousins of the parking lot attendants) but that's a different rant for a different day.