Bucko's World

You wait all year for your posh trip abroad and then what happens? You get a cold, or in my case fatal pleurisy. Coaster buddy was ill too, but luckily she mustered the strength to go shopping with everyone else to the tackiest gift shops imaginable along the 192. The more T-Shirts for $1.99 the better. The torrential rain that had arrived didn’t really seem to dampen spirits too much.

 In the afternoon, with everyone chilling by the pool the deck area suddenly is overshadowed by the wings of some enormous birds, later identified as Turkey Headed Vultures. I’m sure they could sense my impending doom and we just biding their time.



 Talking of wings, we somehow find ourselves spending our evening in a joint called Buffalo Wild Wings. Guess what their signatures dish is? I’ll give you a clue or two…it doesn’t involve a jus or a roué or even something as basic as a boat of gravy. Wings it is then, except they’re boneless – so Buffalo Nuggets would be a more appropriate name. To be completely fair the five different flavours we order range from rank to Japanese flag, stopping at horrible and plain offensive in-between. Add in the fact that you can’t buy wine by the bottle, there’s twenty screens showing sport at deafening volume and people can actually play basketball in the restaurant, and we had to chalk this one up to experience………..until the cab arrived…………….



As always, we asked the restaurant to get us a cab, and when Julia's cabs turned up with a young black guy behind the wheel we expected nothing other than as normal five minute taxi ride home. After we had all buckled up he asked " where you all from?" Unsurprisingly "London" was our reply. "Do you know Welsh people?" he enquired. "A few" we replied. "They is nasty. I had them in my cab last night. Do you know they are sheep shaggers?" We, of course, all burst out laughing. "Yeah, they're well known for that" I replied, "It's the long winter nights you see?" "They told me," our wide eyed cabbie said, "they gets the sheep, they take it to the edge of the cliff, they fuck it, and then they kill it. That's nasty." "You’re not wrong mate" I replied "The Welsh are right dirty bastards, look at that Catherine Zeta Jones for a start!" "I know, they told me." He said. "They're sheep shaggers and they fuck sheep. That's nasty.." I'm biting my fist by this point..... He continued "I went home and I said "Ma, I had these Welsh people in my Taxi and they fucks sheep" and she said to me "Oh Lord, that's nasty."" I helpfully explained that the reason they fuck sheep is to keep warm. "are you sure?" he asked, "coz once you've taken all your clothes off at the top of the cliff before you fuck the sheep surely you'll get cold?" "No, no no, of course not," I explain. "You have to remember, you'll be kept nice and warm coz the sheep always goes on top" "Man, that's nasty!!" explodes our cabbie. "Why does the sheep go on top?" "Well, that simple," I reply "it makes it easier to kiss 'em"

.....We reach Friday (17/8) and find we need a rest day so that can only mean shopping until we drop. A visit to Mall of at Millenia is in order. well, there is a Tiffinay's there... And they saw Lisa coming. After swearing she was only buying some earrings, the rather clever salesman clocked the bangle she was wearing and just happened to mention the matching necklace he had....$500 later....



Americans drive like dicks at the best of times so when you get stuck in a traffic jam with them all hell breaks loose. We're minding or own business following the car in front, a few feet behind like you do, when from nowhere a Honda SUV driven by some daft bint decides it's going to simply pull into our lane without looking, promting anchors on and an "Oi you fuck wanker dick!" from our driver. The minimum she deserved if you ask me...



As some of our party were suffering from Pasta Withdrawal Symptoms, naturally no names can be mentioned to protect the guilty, we decided to visit a little Italian place called Carrabas to carbo load up. The place didn't disappoint with their special dishes especially designed for fat bastards such as meatballs and spaghetti, with Lasagne with and penne alla amatriciana on the side....guess what we had?

As always, we asked the restaurant to get us a cab home, and Big Jim (or Jimbo to his friends) turns up. A lovely bald headed, tattooed kind of guy. He has a strange tale to tell about his friend Frank, who despite not drinking or smoking or fornicating or bestiality of any sort no siree, has somehow woken up in a screaming fit at four in the morning, wondering, to put it mildy, what the fuck had happened. Well, Jimbo knew, as the young lady Frank had pulled had call Jim at 3.00AM saying Frank had gone beserk and could he come and collect her. Poor old Frank.....we awaited updates.. Jimbo was also good enough to regale us with proper protocol for behaviour on Daytona Beach - "Watch your stuff. I was there with an Irish girl, and some loser grabbed her bag and made a run for it, so I tasered him, then kicked his ass. He's lucky I didn't have my pistol." A large tip was guaranteed.

The revenge cast upon me and my coaster buddy COF has taken the form of a stinking cold, both of us feeling like shit probably due to walking in and out of air conditioning to 90F whilst in soaking wet clothes. Nice....



 With a morning of rest to get over a night of large steaks, a run was in order, but unfortunately proved Armadillo free, with only 747 sized Dragonflies to keep me company on my way.  I really have never seen so many of the huge buggers, but bright pink ones?  Everyday there's a highlight here!



 It was then off to Epcot for an afternoon wandering round before dinner in a Moroccan restaurant and firework display over the World Showcase Lagoon. Things were all going smoothly till the Holiday Curse of Conor Morris struck again. Having lost sunglasses, swimming googles, A DS and various hats last time around, he actually managed to top it by succeeding in losing his bag and all it's contents including a rather expensive Canon camera. To say Morris senior was not best pleased is an understatement.

Having then wasted the best part of 90 minutes with guest relations in an attempt to retrieve said bag, we were a bit short of time for visiting the various countries of the World Showcase before our dinner date. This meant we were unfortunately unable to visit Germany, France and Canada. Oh woe was us......



 Having had dinner in these Theme Park "themed" restaurants before (most memorably in Cinderella's Castle, a meal so vile it even had marmalade on the roast potatoes) I was not holding out much hope for the Marrakesh Restaurant and it's belly dancing accompanied supper....



  Lucky we were pleasently surprised and some top tucker was had all round. The size of the Lamb Shank and couscous will live long in the memory... After all this action, it was time for the main event, and it's one of the things Disney are always top of the class at - Explosions. The huge fireworks, laser and light show, all reflected in the enormous lake was rather spectacular - even good enough to take my mind off how lousy I was feeling, and rather rescued a day that for a while there looked like it was going off the rails...

Enough of rest days, it was up at Dawn's crack and off to Universal Island of Adventures, to make up for three years of hurt. After having watched it being built last time we were here, it's finally time to actually get to visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

 And it was good. Trying to get your head around a snow covered Hogsmead in 95F of heat is a stretch, but somehow it works. And the Hogwarts School is just superb - it's just like it looks in the films - god only knows how hey managed it! As for the main ride, well, I won't say too much, but it was well worth the wait, all three years. The queue was an event in itself, the moving pictures were amazing, and were all the proper characters from the films, very clever! All I'll say is that if you like the films, you're going to LOVE this. We also managed one of the Tri-wizard Tournament duelling dragons rides, which had been open last time, but we had forgotten how bastard it was, I think my stomach is still up there somewhere (I wish - LOL!)



 There were also two flume rides to attempt for the really adventurous, Jurassic Park and Dudley Dogood's Ripsaw falls. Unfortunately, only me and my coaster buddy Caitlin Oliva Fenty were man enough to take on the challenge, all others wimping out! Both of us ended up soaked us to the skin, an unfortunate side effect of which was that my self depreciating "Grumpy" t-shirt started to hum something rotten, so it was a good thing I had purchased a No 7 Grffyindor Harrry Potter Quidditch shirt to change into!

 Although there was tons more to do, an unfortunate incident involving Shark Bait and his shorts lead to us calling the day short, so the Hulk, Spiderman and Despicable Me ("It's soooo Fluffy!") will have to wait for another day! But that's the good thing about a 2 week pass, we can go again whenever we see fit.



 Once back home we decided to eat out in the most Amercian way possible. That's right, Steak and Beer. So it's no wonder we end up in an Australian restaurant called Outback being served by a gay bloke called Sean. Fortunately, the food was copious and excellent. Blooming Onions and Coconut Shrimp (more like small lobsters) whetted the appetite, before three inch think sirloins took centre stage to fill any gaps that might be left. A second visit to this place is an absolute must!



 And I leave you with this: Quote of the day - Conor to Kieran - "Dad, if Elvis hadn't died, would he still be alive?" Genius at work there....

Well, we got here sucessfully and, as you should, ordered Papa John's for our fourth meal of the day - including their new Chicken Parmesan pizza - beyond wonderful.



 Our first morning dawned hot and sunny, and a run through all the garden sprinklers was on the cards. What wasn't expected was the Amadillo hurdles when one of the little fuckers ran out of a bush and scared the living shite out of me. You know it's going to be a good day when that happens.



 As per the plan as layed down in the holy texts of Lisa, we were to have a brunch and shopping day and so it was off to Celebration and the Market Street Cafe for the most massive omlettes and the house speciality - a pint of fresh orange juice. Unfortunately Robert dosen't work there anymore. Whether he or the Dancing Tosser was the first person to be murdered in Celebration remains to be discovered.....



 Following enough food being left to feed a small African man for a week we're off for a walk around the lakes. We're always keen to see if we can spot a croc in the water but today, as always, all we see is some long necked turtles and fucking crickets - crickets fucking everywhere. And Dragon Flies, enormous butterflies and something huge chirping in the trees...... And then, whilst trying to photograph an elusive bird, Conor nearly dies...... .....death by treading on a sunbathing Alligator would be an impressive way to go - except that despite all the shouting and yelling that he'd found a croc, the bloody thing barely batted an eyelid, posed for photos and then with a dismissive flick of its tail shot into the water and was gone. That, by the way, up there, is the ACTUAL alligator...no messing....



 Still marvelling from this amazing encounter, we're on our way back to the car hwen we spot a huge writhing black mass in the shallows at the edge of the lake. Thinking it was one massive gator we prepare to run - before we realise it's a family of Otters having a bit of a play and a fish supper - completely gobsmacking. If tomorrow starts with anything close to Armadillo hurdling I know we're in for a good day.....