I have been off of the BNL cruise ship for a week now, but my legs are still wobbly and certain sounds and images won’t go away:
The casino dealer, offering up “insurance” before testing the ace of spades in the little blackjack-tester. “Sorry,” says the casino dealer.
The breakfast buffet, at first a cornucopia of colorful fruits, tasty sausages, and omelette-chefs in klan hats. Yes I’ll take a fresh plate for my next trip. But by the end merely a monotonous line-up of diarrhea suspects — was it you CRACKLE? et tu, SNAP? — I suppose the Rice Krispies are blameless but the scrambled eggs get my squinty eye.
The voice of Ed, several times a day over the in-cabin PA system, louder than a truck dropping a piano in a PT Andersen film, reminding me of all the recreational opportunities on the vessel. Reminding me that I shouldn’t be napping. Reminding my two year old that she shouldn’t be napping either. Lazy! If only the words that he were speaking were less funny, I could be mad at him.
The penis of Tyler, and this is something that we all share, Ships & Dip 4-ers. Because while technology and D.F. Yonkman make it possible for anyone to experience the cruise ship from the rhea-free comfort of our homes, the actual, uncensored, bouncing-fruit-and-nuts of a 43 year old man is something we, and only we, have to celebrate. L’chaim!
And while we’re on the subject, please revisit this modern day Yonkman classic from 3 years ago on a Thundergod-free boat: