Archive for the ‘Tourist attractions’ Category

Mon­keys: Ooooo

Cho­lo #1, tap­ping rough­ly on glass: Heeeey mon­key! Oh! Mon­key!
Tree­hug­ger in san­dals with socks, hys­ter­i­cal­ly: Stop it, stop it! Oh my god!
(cho­lo #2 and #3 snick­er and speak Span­ish to each oth­er)
Cho­lo #1: Crazy gringa…needa get laid.
Tree­hug­ger: Well, at least I did­n’t have ten kids by the time I was twen­ty! Like your moth­er!

Na­tion­al Zoo
Wash­ing­ton, DC

Over­heard by: Meag­goo

Good Thing Plu­to Did­n’t Hear That

Choco­late store girl: You’re a dick­suck­er. You know that? I mean, why both­er with you? You seen my ass, you know I’m good-look­ing. You’re-.
Guy in Goofy cos­tume, muf­fled: What­ev­er. There are oth­er tits. I’ll be just fine re­gard­less. And just so you know [low­ers voice as kids ap­proach] you’re gonna get us both fired if you keep this shit up.
Choco­late store girl, loud­ly: Fuck you, and fuck your fuck­ing ass! I hope you get fired! Then you can go home and suck your ass­hole!
Guy in Goofy cos­tume, los­ing it: Bet­ter than suck­ing your ex’s dick when you’re sup­posed to be work­ing.
Choco­late store girl, stunned: Who told you that?!
Guy in Goofy cos­tume: Jen, af­ter I fucked her!
[Girl walks in­to the shop quick­ly and goes in­to back room look­ing like she’s go­ing to cry. Goofy goes back to wan­der­ing around aim­less­ly, wav­ing to lit­tle kids.]

Dis­ney World
Or­lan­do, Flori­da

Over­heard by: af­ter that, my g/f and i ap­plied for jobs there

How Many Tons Of Vom­it Does Dis­ney World Pro­duce a Year? Show Your Work.

20-some­thing guy in the mid­dle of a group: Guys, guys. I’ve got big news.
(group qui­ets down)
20-some­thing guy: I just got a text from Ross. It says “Let’s put it this way: they’ve stopped the ride, are clean­ing up my vom­it, and I’m leav­ing in a wheel­chair. Space­ship Earth.”
(group cheers)

Dis­ney World
Or­lan­do, Flori­da

If He Dies, They’ll Prob­a­bly Let You Cut All the Lines

Eight-year-old kid in line for Uni­ver­sal Stu­dios park tick­et: I know how to get a dis­count tick­et.
Eight-year-old friend: How?
Eight-year-old kid: You get your friend to come along with you, then you stab him in the neck and say “My friend’s dy­ing, can we have dis­count tick­ets?”

Uni­ver­sal Stu­dios
Los An­ge­les, Cal­i­for­nia