DMorgan's Zoo - Literally

Road trips can't really be considered fullfilling unless the unexpected strange of the world comes out to great you. In California it will find you, no need to go seeking.

At our first rest stop there were armed police men, hands leisurely on their firearm. I decided I didn't want to pee that bad. Mr. Morgan said they were transporting bad guys.

Second rest stop I thought I'd try again and maybe even get a few stratcher lottery tickets. The bathroom was busy for a long time and when it's occupant came out, his head was down and his stride was so fast he actually hit me with the door. I called him a jerk and went in, wishing to god I'd called him worse for what he'd done in there. There is no way a person didn't know that he did what I walked into. Once again, my naked ass was going no where close to this level of prestine sanitation. On the wall was a Health Mart. Interesting choice of titles. I implore you to click and enlarge.


Got your extenders - try all six in rotation!
Pandora's Box - a grab bag of sexy surprises, you'll want them ALL!
Super Studded Lubricated Condoms - Arouse her!

and finally....

I emerged gasping and frowning deeply.

"You won't believe what they've got in there."
"What?"
"Genuine Horny Goat Weed."
"What is that??"
"I don't know."
"Why not?"
"I didn't have 75 cents, but there is a picture of one goat, upright smoking a cig right at the ass of another goat."
"Sounds genuine."
______________________

Arrived!
First stop was the seals. This portly fellow was doing no tricks, no cute little back-swimmg, absolutely nothing except bobbing in the water,begging. His length to width ratio was pretty damn curious. The begging clearly is working in his favor.

Not sure why he's making that face. Probably because the Beer Cart chased him off and wasn't yet open. Maybe it's his "denied!" face.


Also don't know why I'm making THAT face. Maybe I somehow intuitively knew the Churro I'd just eaten would be making me very sorry for the next 48 hours. So we'll call that a "whatcha gonna do?" pose.


Dolphins are really hard to get a photo of, being all slippery and jumpy. Be that as it may, we could at least safely say we got some tail that day. /beat, kne-yuck, kne-yuck.


This is one of those misting machines. The snide little comment at the bottom did not go without note. I can't say I even understand it completely and don't think I paid full ticket price to be asked to think, but maybe I'm just dumb. Is the contradiction that pale people don't like things tropical? It's tropical - but even YOU in your white skin can enjoy it. Thoroughly. Huh?

Destination! We aren't sure why the little one on the right is laying down, it confused Mr. Morgan.

"I don't think giraffes can lay down."
"Of course they can, and seemingly - are. I would presume that as a giraffe, you'd have to really weigh the worth of sitting down. Probably not easy to get up and very likely not graceful."
"Think it's sick?"
"Maybe, it is kinda weird but wouldn't the zoo keepers be shuffling it from the public?"



Feedings weren't for another few hours and I was tired from the long drive, the sun and my consistant way of thinking that booze is actually a form of hydration. So no feedings this trip.

One hell of a lippy snear.

I'm still in belly and sun turmoil, but that's what taking me anywhere leads to. The people there are so unbeleivebly fucking rude, I was glad to be home. Everyone is in their own asshole world and will trample you without a second glance then give YOU a dirty look. I'm sure the heat intolerance on my part didn't help but I inwardly began to feel racist and angry. I didn't like that at all, but I was stewing over these terribly mannered flocks and began running sterotypes in my head everywhere from racial profiling, to being pissed at large people in those carts, people with kids who are out of their fucking brains - yet being pumped full of cotton candy.

Name one nasty thing and I'm sure I entertained it. I even began to hate skinny white bitches in tan jumpers who smiled for no reason and had the balls to hold up the pretzel line with no change. It's bad and time to go home when you are resorting to hating on yourself. Really though, that is why I hate California, some parts I'm sure are lovely....this place was just a free for all to promote shitty ass conduct. While I know my energy from impatience could fuel most houses for a month, I've not found myself in such a deplorable wretch cunting state that I can ever remember that I was stooping to muttering slurs at tiny children because they were wearing purple or had waffle cone on their stompy snouts. Mass crowds are not my fortay is would seem. Or that one wasn't. Exception was one man who saw me trying to take a photo of Mr. Morgan in front of the walrus statue and he said no. I said "Cmon you know you want to touch the tusk!" The man stopped, laughing and said I was right, he'd be happy to photo us. Sadly he didn't understand my camera and didn't hit the right button before wishing us a good day.

I'm back to being my normal self, a house fell on my nasty sister or something the minute we crossed back into Nevada. A lot of it was also the congestion and being knocked into so often. No touchy, and I increasingly seemed to take each careless smashing into as a personal insult. In fairness, if my clutsy fucked up ass can navigate.... so can everyone else.

Hope all had a nice 4th.

- DM