Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Notes from the edge

So I'm in LA (the state, not the hellhole city) and I think I might have inadvertently checked myself into the Lizzie Borden suite at La Quinta.

Check mah bloody hand prints:
There's several sets in and around the bathroom. Had I noticed them before unpacking, I might be inclined to ask for a new room. However, I be lazy, and I be tired- having broken my own personal record for awesomeness last night- so for now I'll just hope they captured the criminal and that the joint isn't haunted.

Also, I tried to get a tour of an alligator meat farm and was denied. Apparently "No Tours" even means me. Who knew?

2 comments:

The Great Explorer said...

You should add to that for the maids... get some more on there! Soak the bed with ketchup! Razors all over the place and some ropes tied to the headboard that look like they have been chewed through. Oooo... maybe even splurge on a realistic baby looking doll and put in the bathtub for good measure?

The Great Explorer said...

Also, fuck the "farmers". I learned how to hunt for alligators and was told the tails are extra tasty when fried into little nuggets. If you want something that beats a stupid no you can't come in here tour any day of the year, we'll come back when hunting the bastards is in season and we'll "tour" our asses anywhere we damn well like leaving death and destruction in our wake. All we need is a strong rope, a good sized hook and some chicken parts. I bet the Scion can fit about 6 - 7 full sized dudes lashed to the roof before it starts getting hairy. If we can find someone with a pick up, we really don't have a limit.