We’re back from a week in California, and visits to relatives and two theme parks. Ordinarily a coaster lover, the Gibber’s very coaster ride of the trip — the large, rickety Ghostrider at Knott’s Berry Farm — set the tone for further adult-ish attractions (“No, I don’t want to go on that”) and in turn kiboshed a planned visit to yet a third park. He did fine on the smaller ones.
For me, Legoland is still bringing forth entertainment in the guise of being internally re-colonized by another brand of e-coli. I contacted the park and had a pleasant chat with their head chef, who promised to do an investigation. A lesson learned: Don’t eat anything not cooked while on vacation (e.g., salads).
I will finish with: Immodium is fucking magical.
I have to go.