The Flags Stand for "DANGER"

Going back to the office after a five day "vacation" is not entirely unlike smelling the jug of milk in the fridge with yesterday's due date. You know you're going to have to do it, putting it off and dreading the moment only makes things worse, and the scrunched up face you make doesn't really protect you from the foul viciousness of it all at all.

At least if the milk is still good you get to have Apple Dapples. If work is good then someone else gets yelled at instead of you. Today was one of those days. So far.

While we're on the topic, another "good" day that I neglected to mention was the weekend before last, when B and I jetted over to Six Flags America to pick up our bargain basement season passes. $40 for 5 months worth of potential death-defying entertainment?! Wells hells, sign us up!

Six Flags America, ghetto as it may be, has at least two kick-ass extreme coasters. There was a line for the season pass picture dealie so we trotted over to the coaster section of the park, all the while trying to ignore the fact that we were probably the only persons there in our age group who were not saddled with offspring. And we were definitely the only 30+ year olds holding hands, skipping, and singing "peanut butter jelly time".

We pretty much hopped right on to B's favorite coaster and were screaming our way through the first 1/3 of the Superman, Ride of Steel when this horrible thought bubble appeared in my head and it occurred to me that $40 might not be enough to cover the level of security and maintenance that I personally would prefer of my 0-60mph in .4 seconds with a 190 foot vertical drop vehicular mechanisms!

I'd been on this particular ride dozens of times and for some reason this particular trip scared the bejesus out of me. By the end of the ride, I literally had no bejesus left in me, and I really, really, really had to pee.

If you look closely, you can see my bejesus somewhere around the second drop.
Oh, and B's becapped head.

J. Lo and behold, the car immediately following ours got stuck on the track and every one on it died a gruesome and horrific death! Right before our eyes, bodies were falling like Florida rain!

Ok ok ok, no. No one fell, no one died. I kid, I kid. But the car directly behind us did really get stuck up in the sky causing our train to get stuck mere yards from the loading dock. We were all trapped in our seats for what felt like hours but was probably about 10-12 minutes in reality. Full-bladder minutes have time zones of their own.

Once again, we managed to cheat a horrific ghetto death! Whew!