I went to six flags. Without GKING.
That's right, I did the unthinkable, and made the journey up the jersey turnpike (which sucks, by the way. Firstly, people in jersey can't drive to save their lives. Throw in a high-speed bypass and fog...well, i'm certain you can imagine the sorts of resulting carnage that ensued) to Jackson, paid my way through the gates (with a friend and his friends), and began a FUCKING COLD trip through the park--ALL WITHOUT GKING. Needless to say, it was replete with your typical park-attending morons: wannabe mobsters, NYC trash, Pennsylvania hick trash, hobos who've never left the park, and worst of all, the psychos who actually work there. I've probably said this before, but the people who actually work at the six flags in jersey must all be drama-school drop outs. They wander aimlessly around the park, randomly break out into histrionic "look, I'm acting!" skits with each other (and then clap for themselves! That's like a comedian laughing at his own fucking joke!), and inefficiently perform the rest of their park-related duties. I hate them with the white hot intensity of a million burning suns, to borrow a phrase.
Other than the freezing cold, brain-dead mobs, and 3.5 total rides, it was quite alot of fun. You know why? Beer. Yes, we all went into the closest bar, bought large amounts of dos equis and poured it into coke containers. By god, when it comes to sneaking around illicit substances, that's when human ingenuity rears its ugly, drunken head.
The beer acted as a sort of time dilation device. The observers' (i.e. myself and my friends-hereby known as "z") percieved movement over time (hereby refered to as "a/x") as being faster (<) than the other, non-drunken observers (hereby refered to as "q"). That, my friends, is known as Doc's theory of alcohol-induced time-dilation relativity. Trust me, it makes more sense when in similar circumstances as I was that night.
Unfortunately, I made the horrendous mistake of trying to scare my buddy's girlfriend during our walk through the "HAUNTED TRAIL OF SPOOKY DOOM"--as one of the douchebag employees told us while waving his hands around in what he assumed would be a dramatically impressive guesture, but really just looked as though he had temporarily lost all fine motor functions. A vampire who had lost all fine motor functions. An obese vampire who had lost all fine motor functions.
It was stupid, is what i'm trying to say.
Anyhow, I hid behind a barrel in the dark, jumped out, terrified my buddy and his girl and (much to my surprise) almost lost consciousness as the girlfriend wrapped her left hand around my neck and squeezed. I have never been so scared in my life. I have never encountered such a vise-like deathgrip in my life either. I still have a vaugly hand-shaped bruise around my neck, and it's been over a week.
Lesson learned: women are scary!
--HK_Newbie
(next time gking, i swear. But it has to be like this:
::phone rings::
Newbie: "Hello?"
Gking: "six flags, bitch. now."
Newbie: "Okay!"
(That's opposed to this)
::phone rings::
Newbie: "Hello?"
Gking: "let's schedule a six flags trip for sometime in the distant future with a bunch of people!"
Newbie: "Sure!"
::Hell freezes over::
