Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
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M. Giant's Velcrometer Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks |
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Monday, December 02, 2002 Trash and I spent this past weekend in the Wisconsin Dells. Or, as some people know it, the Branson, Missouri of the North. Because there was a group of us, we rented a condo for the weekend rather than staying in a hotel. It was so much more comfortable and inexpensive than renting two or three rooms would have been. We had a kitchen and a fireplace and a VCR and satellite TV and plenty of room for everyone to sleep. We can’t complain, obviously. We benefited from our hosts’ willingness to do something we’d never do, i.e., rent out our living space to strangers. And they charged us a lot less than we ever would have charged people to sleep in our beds, cook with our dishes, and criticize our taste in wall art while we weren’t there. One of our favorite parts was the guest book. As far as we could tell, the condo is actually someone’s home (or second home), and they just clear out when somebody wants to rent it from them. It’s incredibly convenient for us, because we’re also renting their kitchen utensils, refrigerator, bedding, and every other household amenity. It’s all right there. People love it. And then they write about how much they love it in the guest book that the owners leave on the living room coffee table for that purpose. Something about the guestbook and the semi-rustic setting seems to have inspired a few previous guests to wax poetic when they should have stuck to waxing their back hair. We mocked them, of course. And we tried to come up with a few things we would like to have seen written in the guest book, just to break up the monotony a little bit: “It was so wonderful to spend our holiday at a place with a full kitchen. We never get to make tripe when we’re on vacation. Obviously we didn’t want to take your stock pot when we left, so the three leftover gallons in the fridge are there for you to enjoy, with our thanks.” “We were so looking forward to staying in a home with a fireplace, but we learned its joys are overrated. The living room got so smoky. We had the switch on “closed” the whole time, but the curtains stayed open and the smoke kept coming. We appreciated everything else, though. You must get so tired of repainting after every time someone visits.” “We loved everything here. That’s why we took it with us when we left.” “Thank you for making your home available to us during this weekend. This will always be a special place for us. After all, you only lose your viginity once.” “This place was perfect for us in every way. Between the garbage disposal, the fireplace, and the river flowing through the back yard, nobody will ever know what happened here this past week.” “I don’t get to spend many weekends with my kids, so I wanted to make it special. This place exceeded all my expectations. The kids had a wonderful time with their dad and we made memories that will last them a lifetime. None of us wanted our time here to end, especially after I figured out how to unlock the porn channels.” “As soon as I walked in, I knew this place was exactly what I’ve been looking for for monhs, and it would be the ideal location in which to end my life. My mortal remains are in the upstairs bathroom. Please contact…” We wrote our own entry in the guest book, but it included none of the above phrases. We kept our written mockery pretty low-key. Which, now that I think about it, may have been what everyone else had done before us. posted by M. Giant 3:29 PM 0 comments 0 Comments:
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