Two knuckleheads were on their way to Disneyland and came to a fork in the road. The sign read: “Disneyland Left”, so they went home.
They also fired their entire IT staff. All of ’em. They didn’t explain why. They just cut them loose. True Story. Can you imagine having to tell your significant other that you’ve been fired from the happiness place on earth? And how do you explain that on a resume?
Forget it. Time to move to another country. One that hates Disneyland. Maybe France. I know that they have one there, but thousands like to attend the one in Florida. Perhaps it’s because all of the major characters have mustaches. Even Minnie Mouse has one. Gross.
Also, they serve wine to all ages. I know! Wine and cheese for everyone! By the second day and I had acclimated to the custom and what it stands for. Rest. A rest period in the middle of the day. Brilliant! Everyone goes back to work refreshed and just a little bit hammered.
I loved the wine, bread and cheese. It was a very pleasant nap time, one which I carry for the rest of my life. In a good way. If course I haven’t checked the stats on how early they croak, but that is significant, unless we just know we want to die young anyway. Some people just want to die on foreign soil. All I know it’s what I want. Fill the coffin with cheese, my favorite baguettes and escargot.
Then bury me with a hologram of me like an international double spy so everything I say will need to be encrypted. No one will figure it out unless it’s April and it will tell the world of undying love for Ann. Even death can’t get and it.