Okay, where was I? We got through with the gay Comic Strip Island (that was very [un]tastily decorated with Beetle Baily, Hi and Lois and Broomhilda paintings and shit everywhere) and ran as fast as our stubby little legs would take us over to Jurassic Park Island of Dinos and Monkey Sounds in the Bushes. I guess those noises were meant to invoke thoughts of prehistoric jungles and monkey-eating dinosaurs. Who knows. What I do know though is that the Jurassic Park Raft Ride was kinda lame, and it was the only attraction in the entire Island. There were close to 142 gift shops there, but only one ride. That logic drove Mehve to insanity and we had to sit and watch as he ran around in his boxers for 25 minutes rambling on about the logistics and probabilities of such odds and how the chaos theory of their existence might irreparably damage the space time continuum thingy that he's always talking about... Well, we didn't have to sit and watch him do that, but it was more fun than the cheap-ass dino flume we just rode.

I don't think we spent much more time in the Jurassic before scurrying over to the Island Continent of Lost Ideas and Imagination. I suppose it was meant to be a "fantasy" land full of exploration and non-shame... Unfortunately it missed on both accounts. It did, however, have one of the coolest roller coasters I've ever been on in my entire life inside its mythic walls: The Dueling Dragons! Once you make it through the 20 minute hike through the outer walls and the inside of the line-waiting castle (yes, 20 minutes of non-stop walking to get to the front of the line when there is nobody in front of you), you get to choose which of the two dragons you want to ride in. Stefanoly, the Diva and I thought that the Ice Dragon was the coolest, and the rest of the guys can suck my dick with their thoughts about the Fire Dragon. The Fire Dragon was a homo.

This picture pretty much speaks for itself. I saw the boat from Water World in person. Now I can die a fulfilled and yet still lonely man.

After we rode the kick-ass dragons a few dozen times (there was nobody in the park, and we found a shortcut to the front of the line right after you exit the coaster), we thought it would be best to walk around a bit before our next attraction. Plus one of us (no names!) threw up on the last Dueling Dragons trip and it came right back to hit him in the face and rugged ninja shirt. The only cool thing about the incident was that for a second or two it actually looked like the plastic dragon masthead at the front of the cart was spewing some sort of disgusting, but wonderful, chunky-fire.

Soooooooo, after a quick rinse, Team Greenwood was on the fast track to the Demented Dr. Suess Island of the Grotesque and Darkened Souls. Seriously... It freaked me out a bit. The good doctor's fucked up illustrations were never meant to be seen in a real life 3D setting. That Cat in the Hat ride convinced me that I was "Thing Three" for a few minutes of noticeable unclarity. It took a double smacking from both Matt^2 and PW to jolt me back to my semi-normality. Then we had to go on that godforsaken merry-go-round with all those lorax and sneetches and hunches and herpes and gonoreabaloos!! That was the worst that I had ever tripped without taking anything stronger than a few shots of Nightquil.

Dr. Suess World was all I could handle at that point. Things were getting a bit too hairy for me in the Islands of Adventure, so the crew packed up, pulled Mehve out of the dumpster he was diving into behind the Dr. Suess Circus Stampede of Sillyness Cafe, and we took a little breather by heading to the park next door: the Indomitable Universal Studios Movie Park!

I think that it was right after I had tripped that little girl, punched that baby in the face, and gave that cute little midget that monster-noogie that Wolverine (of the X-Men) approached me. At first he was acting all high and mighty and he tried to bully me around for my so-called "crimes" I had just perpetrated (fyi, that little bitch deserved to get tripped and thrown into the grey water beneath the Hulk roller coaster, that baby wouldn't stop "goo gooing" and "ga ga-ing" while I was trying to check out his mom's cleavage, and that midget actually asked me to give him a noogie... he just started griping when I wouldn't stop urinating in his ear). At first I tried to ignore the berserker canook, but he wouldn't shut the hell up about his "unbreakable Adam Westian bones" and his "razor sharp Lee Press-On Nails" so I had to knock him down a few pegs. Using my patented Rossman really smart memory powers, I laid out a cunning plan. I called Psycho Weasel over to us and kicked him in the intestines with just enough power that it caused him to rupture his spleen (or something just as hideous) and spill a cloud of toxicity from his bum so incredibly putrid that Wolverine's "animal senses" began shutting down faster than you could say "Who blew up the sewage treatment plant?" Not even the hairy Canadian's often bragged about "healing factor" could save his olfactory senses from committing seppuku that day. As a souvenir I stole his mask and his athletic cup. That last thing might come in handy if I ever have to face Dr. Doom again (he likes to go for the "orbs and scepter" during fights).