When did you ever go to a carnival and not see a few clowns...man I want to see some spooky baloon hawking painted morons jumping through the hallways, and what do I get - Indonesians who I have to explain what a Cape Cod is, and take the smirky smile they give back to me when they bring me another fucking monkey head filled with some sort of elephant piss libation that makes my nipples invert and the hair on my head turn green...maybe they call it Carnival because, much like the modern day carnival, after a few of those, I start asking folks if I can guess their weight for another fucking monkey head filled with magic juice...
As if guessing their weight would be difficult - Jesus H. Christ - I am beginning to wonder if cruise operators need to start charging by the meal - I watched a guy tonight shovel down 4 (no less, no more) all beef hot dog smothered with everything except the jism from a silver back gorilla - and the only reason he did not have that was that you have to pay extra for jism from an endangered species - he did however spring for a nine dollar diet coke, which should make it much easier for him to squeeze into his sixe 48 pants and not have to fart to make them fit...
Now don't get me wrong, I am by no means the answer to health - I smoke like a stack, drink way too much to be the next Lance Armstrong, and certainly don't carry the card that says "Meat is Murder" - but c'mon folks - put down the fucking fork - will you - I mean we are on a ship filled with skinny starving Eastern Europeans and Indonesians who make the equivalent of eight dollars per day in bone carvings and shells - but yet you want a third helping of lobster? The funny thing is that the quietest and most peaceful place on the ship is the gym - I was there today (and will be there in another 4 hours sweating Monkey Drinks and vomitting on the attendant) - the hardest appointment to get is the "weight loss wrap" - the spa sells them like hookers at a truck stop - but why do these people think that wrapping yourself in seaweed for 3 hours, having a tube of diaretic shoved up your ass, and then being bathed in caustic mud will save you from the extra helping of bacon fat that you had? Trust me - if you want to get skinny, you really need to stick with the sticky rice, and not the "fat free yogurt" machine -
Speaking of the fat free yogurt machine - this appears to be the best place on a Carnival cruise ship to check out really big tits in really small bathing suits - I guess that is why they place it next to the bar - I have never seen more women dressed in clothes that say "In ten beers, you will find me beautiful" than I have in the past three days. The pools are salt water, but you would have to be pretty fucking delerious, not to mention the ten beers, to even take a bite out of the forbidden fruit that I have witnessed...
This may sound terribly sexist and somewhat shitty for a guy to say - but trust me, I don't wear a speedo because my package can't support that kind of pressure - I wear clothes that are a little too baggy to hide my 36 year old stomach, and I make sure that my bathing suits are somewhat appropriate attire - how would you feel if I started wearing a gold sparkly speedo with holes in the ass, positioned just perfectly so that you could see not only the stretch marks, but a few strands of ass hair hanging out...you probably would feel like you do right now - a little disgusted. The feeling is mutual. I guess the point is - you are not sexier because the clothes are sexy - in fact, it would be best if you found something that fit (or was a little too big) and just tell everyone you lost 50 pounds because Uncle Freddy died, and you were really, really close to Uncle Freddy...
Well, I now officially will get 4 hours of sleep - I want hari coverts. Green beans my friends - simple, plain, green beans. That's what I want. Sometimes, even saying green beans in French makes me feel better - I mean, a man could live off of green beans - you can do much like Bubba in Forrest Gump did - there are a million things that you can do with green beans, and never get tired of them. I have found that simplistic and youthful vigor in finding things to do with green beans - they are soft, they are warm, and sometimes, they are the best taste around - they can be cold, somewhat canned, and you know what, they can even be helpful and wonderful at times. Their pure honesty (after all they are green beans for pete sake) can make you wonder if you are really eating green beans - I guess it is the simple fact that they are what they are that makes them so wonderful - when you are a green bean (or a fat middle aged man somewhere in the midst of his 4th mid life crisis) you find the simple things ring true - you never have to do laundry or wash dishes with green beans, you never have to balance a check book with green beans, you never have to decide who should come to holiday dinners - but the funny thing is - green beans are so ready to be a part of your life - they grow and grow and grow - and just want you to include them, and want you to be included with them...simple. George rule number one - the rest of my life should have the maxim - no meal is complete without sitting down with hari coverts - or at least thinking of them once or twice before taking a bite...
Considering I spent $100 for 250 minutes of air time, I better sign off now - I don't want to miss my opportunity to walk through the halls of the cruise ship tomorrow morning as I see the walk of shame taking place for the girls who know they will never get another phone call, or the guys who realize that they were terribly inadequate - it is a great time in the morning - even the room stewards parade the halls with smiles, as if to say, "I know you just did (fill in the blank here) and I see it every week with different folks - just remember, I make eight dollars a day in bone carvings and shells, and you deserve every ounce of (fill in the blank here) that you have coming to you." Unfortunatly, it usually comes out in a shit eating smile and "Meester, you needa more creen Trowels in jor staterum" - pardon the obvious dialetic and slant - but hell, I know those guys are busting their ass for their living, and I think they deserve all the little things they can get out of us lazy, fat Americans -
Carnival my Ass, I want rythm, rythm, rythm, and to wake up and feel the hope of having green beans. Time to go get another monkey head....
G
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