The Beginning Of My Trip; The Head Of Mickey Mouse Lords Over My Dead Body

So I know you're all dying to hear about my vacation. No you're not, but there are a couple stories I'm going to throw out into the blogosphere anyway. The whole trip got off to a rather inauspicious start when this thing greets me at the runway:


Important informational note; I was nowhere near Disneyland at the time, and the plane was going to be taking me about a thousand miles further away.

As I boarded through Donald's hat, I immediately pictured the news footage that would occur should the vessel go down in a ball of flames. I don't know if this holds up in real life, but it seems like in a lot of pictures I've seen of plane crashes, for whatever reason, the tail seems to survive mostly intact. So as I settled into my seat, I closed my eyes and imagined what it would look like to have Mickey Mouse's grinning face perched over my broken, battered, bruised, and completely unidentifiable body . Then I kinda chuckled. I hoped that if the worst should happen I would at least have time to text message one of my friends on the way down:

watch news 2nite; look 4 irony. Goodbye.

I decided that if I have to go anytime soon, that wouldn't be a bad way. I suppose this makes me some sort of sick bastard.