I'm here to be entertained, you know

The skies were a pale shade of grey and the morning as crisp as a cracker. We'd decided a few days previous that a weekend trip to the San Diego Zoo was in short order since we hadn't been in a couple of years and my fancy shmancy digital camera hadn't been used on the critters inhabiting our "world famous."

We don't often venture out of the house on a Sunday since we spend so much of our time in the presence of botards and fuckwits, stuck in traffic and lines and all other matters of urban sprawl but we won't be here in Southern California for much longer (gawd damn willing) so we need to soak it up while we can.

We woke up relatively early, ahem, let me clarify, I woke up at my normal retarded hour of 6:49 a.m. and he didn't sleep past 10:00 so our day began almost at the same time (please note my use of the sarcastic font.)

We drug ourselves out of the house and hopped in my car. After a stop for coffee (him), water (me), and egg mcnasties (us) we were on our way. I was hoping the skies would stay dark since that's a much more comfortable time outdoors for me on account of I'm the heat miser with better hair but any temp upwards of 65 and over has me sweating and whining and melting into the floor in a crabby mess. And, lower temps won't heat up the animals sending them into dens, under brush or otherwise comatosed.

All was going smoothly down the road and I hadn't had a panic attack yet. Oh, haven't I mentioned? Ever since last January when I was taking whitey to the airport, and I was positively dying from bronchitis, I've had heart-stopping, head-swirling, fucking hell I'm going to pass out while driving 75 mph panic attacks. It's so much fun (saracasm again.) So anyway, going smoothly, driving, yada yada when I noticed a long string of orange cones on the freeway as far as my sleepy eyes could see.

Hmm, I said to myself, they've shut down the fast lane, strange. After moving a lane to the right I was forced over another then another and WTF! The whole fucking freeway was CLOSED and before I knew what was happening I had no choice but to detour to a whole 'nother freeway and consequently travel on one that does not go past the effing zoo. Well shit damn crap.

Fucking hell, I said out loud realizing I'd screwed up my days and the reason for the closure was the stupid Rock-n-Roll marathon. I mean, who the hell needs to run 26pointasshole miles and on a friggen freeway no less, anyway? Argh! After switching to our 5th freeway, yes, 5th, we were finally on the right road and made our way into the Zoo parking lot which didn't look all that crowded yet so maybe it wouldn't suck too bad.

However, by the time we arrived 20 plus miles to the South the sun had poked through the clouds and I was squinting. Great. I hoped we were still early enough and it was cool enough that the animals would be a little active. Ha ha. I'm funny. Whitey and I half-heartedly joke that we have no luck and when we're together we have bad luck times two. Today was no exception.

Our first stop was the flamingos who, if you didn't already know, smell like a shit house full of shit covered in shit. But they are pretty. It must be brooding season or whatever you call bird porn because these feathered fellows had turned most of their enclosure into a birthing ground. I had no idea they made giant nests out of mud. I didn't get any closer than this because of the shit.

P. U.



After we got a good smell look at the birdies we pointed ourselves towards the children's zoo, which, unfortunately, you can only get to by passing the snake house. I have a pretend-you-don't-exist/hate relationship with snakes and lizards and tend to be very prejudice picking and choosing what I think is OK and what should be gathered up, stuffed into a rocket and blasted into another universe.

Of course the boy wanted to look at all things gross and fatal so we started at the first corner of the 4-sided structure where I was promptly face-to-face with this beauty.

She was a big-boned Caucasian gal.


That is the kind of snake that doesn't make me want to throw myself onto the ground and stab my minds eye out with a rusty spork to avoid the memory recall I'll undoubtedly have at wonderful moments like when I feel a tickle on my leg and don't automatically think it's a stray hair hanging from my yoga pants or something else reasonable but probably something like this:


Blech.


I know!

I'm proud to say I only freaked out (loudly and publicly, mind you, there was plenty of silent screaming) about 5 times and I made it all the way around with only a little stress rash starting on my right arm, go me. I tried to take some decent pictures which was not easy through old warped glass not to mention they were of reptiles anyway. Such as these:

Blech. Blech.


And this:

Anyone need any insurance?


Next we went to the komodo dragon house (hello! We're supposed to be going to the children's fucking furry babies and no icky snakes zoo!) and was surprised to see the big guy out and about. He was crusing around and I was all "yay, he's not laying around! We're getting lucky!" And I took some pics! And he was actually cool! And I didn't vomit!

How yoooooo doin'?


And then exactly one minute later he booked over to a rock and laid down and didn't move again.

I'm so over it.


Sigh. On our way to the children's zoo and the nursery that I was so excited about because baby animals squeee! we stopped to gawk at the parrots. Who did nothing but stare at us.

You got a problem? I'll give you a problem.


or refused to look me in the eye. Hmf.

I'm not looking at you, you know.


And that's where I knew our double-whammy bad luck had followed us again and I was not to be proven wrong.

The dik dik wasn't havin' it.

Who you callin' a dik? Dik.


The ducks were aloof.

Gah, I'm so fucking full.


I'm blue.


And the goat wouldn't get out of the bucket.

This bucket is all I need.


The bat-eared fox was unresponsive.



The meerkat was tuckered.



And I think a little depressed.

~sigh~ What does it all mean...


Of course there were no babies in the nursery to squeal over, unless you count the 50 pound porcupine, so we went over toride the sky tram thingy and check out the polar bears, smelling the flowers along the way, well, at least the bee did.

Does this flower make my butt look big?


No moonboots on the tram!



We arrived at the other end of the zoo and watched a small animal chase around and kick the crap out of another small animal and since I couldn't do anything about it I took pictures of a hummingbird.

I should NOT have had that last cup of coffee.


We walked down a hill to steep you practically had to scoot down on your butt and went to see the polar bears. At least one of the two out in the enclosure wasn't snoring under a log. We finally had a few minutes of entertainment watching this giant set of teeth try and chew an even gianter ball.

Mmmm...balls...


And then it was over.

Mmm...dreaming of balls...


I wasn't ready to give up just yet. I was determined to see something good! We pointed ourselves towards another part of the park and knew we were getting close to some critters when the log-jam of gawkers came to a sudden and impacted halt. All to see the following.

Bored hippo.



Melancholy okapi.



OCD tiger.



Hungover monkey.





CRAP.

We were now hot and sweaty and squinty and had enjoyed the melodious (sarcasm) sounds of a million screaming children and had played dodge the stroller for a few hours and were ready to head home, by way of the best thing we saw the whole fucking day. A wall of art one could only be explained as precious. Horrible, bad and precious.

Mentally Challenged Bear and his cousin Beer Belly.



Crack Pipe Bear. Rahhh, we're my pipe?!?



Fancy Gay Men's Chorus Bear. ~jazz hands~



We'd almost made it home when after taking our normal exit discovered my little town was having a celebration and the whole street was closed. After another effing detour and a brief stop to get provisions we got home safe and sound armed with beer (him), ice cream (me) and enjoyed the rest of our day. In peace. With no snakes.

The End.