You Can't Spell "Amusement" Without "Semen"

First waterpark I ever visited was an indoor park called Great Wolf Lodge.  For the uninitiated, there are a number of Great Wolves scattered throughout the US.  They are set up like gigantic faux log cabins, housing hundreds of hotel rooms with a manufactured wilderness feel that is almost racist towards woodsy folk.  I would almost expect to see a Johnny Appleseed-type molesting a Native American in the background of one of their many cheesy murals.

(I’m referring to that shady guy with the gray beard and pipe on the far left side.)

The waterpark itself was utterly disgusting.  I like to judge the cleanliness of these establishments on 3 criteria:  1) Loose band-aids floating by in the “Lazy River”, 2) Fecal incidents and their subsequent response time, and 3) Swim burkhas… Which I realize is a religious necessity, but whatever the fuck you are housing underneath that neoprene swaddle really gets my Spidey-Sense tingling.

Although Great Wolf properties are typically on huge tracts of land, with the waterpark only taking up acreage in the center of the “resort”, they manage to inject an almost unbearable smell of chlorine throughout every nook and cranny of their expanse.  Even the parking lot on a windy day smells like you are cleaning out the filter in that disgusting pool on the North end of Central Park.

“Yeah Large, but you get what you pay for… Buck up and take the kids somewhere real.”… Okay, asshole, but Great Wolf is not cheap, and it was only an hour drive from where I lived at the time.  I didn’t then, and still don’t have the dough to waste on giving my kids trips they will probably forget.  I was foolishly looking for an easy fix, and it wound up biting me in the ass.

Actually, it didn’t bite my ass… It bit my mouth.  A couple days after I returned from great Wolf, both my infant daughter and I were diagnosed with Coxsackie A virus. We had to feed her with a syringe for the next several days, and I had a blister on my tongue that was reminiscent of the gravely ill triceratops in the first Jurassic Park movie.

Is there a worse name for a virus that affects your mouth and throat then “Coxsackie”.  Would be like calling Crohn’s disease “Dickrape”.

Moving along, I have been to several other outdoor water parks: Splashdown Beach in Fishkill, NY, Hershey has one, Land of Make Believe in Hope, NJ has Pirate’s Cove, Mountain Creek, Six Flags, Water Country down in Williamsburg, VA… And a ton more.  No matter which ones I go to there are 2 cardinal rules of waterparks.

I grew my hair out and wrote them down in Hebrew on 2 stone tablets for this picture, but will type them out again for you below.

TWO CARDINAL RULES OF WATER PARKS

1. Thou shalt always get whatever type of FAST PASS option the park offers.  I don’t necessarily do the fast passes when I visit a regular “dry” amusement park. At those establishments, I go either very early or right before closing, when you are usually able to fly around from ride to ride with little or no wait. And if we do decide to be there at peak hours, I sometimes feel that if my kids get frustrated with waiting on line, they’ll pull the ripcord early, and I can go back to the hotel where my kids can jump in the pool whilst I drink vodka/molest the bride.

With water parks, the fast pass option is a must. There are usually less rides than you see at the traditional dry park, and your kids want to go on every fucking one of them, so ponying up for them to stroll past the most miserable cocksuckers on earth waiting on line for 45 minutes is a luxury I am proud to provide.  It really is the second closest feeling my kids have to being wealthy.  The first involves the second rule, which is…

2. Thou shalt always pay for the Private Cabana at the water park.  Again, dry parks are totally different.  There are no storage or rest stop needs that can’t be solved with a drawstring backpack and a shady bench.  Water parks are the opposite.  Sun screen, towels, bug spray, glasses, phones, wallets, dildos, firearms, crackpipes… All the shit that you bring with you on a day trip has to go somewhere, and the lockers they provide at the water park are for people who don’t mind traveling by bus (if you know what I mean).

Call in advance, and buck up for the cabana, and you will thank me profusely.

The cabanas are little huts with ceiling fans, fridges, a couple of lounge chairs, and a locker. They are usually in cordoned off sections littered around the park, and entry can only be gained with a wristband.  It’s essentially the VIP section of any water park, and it keeps you away from “the great unwashed”.

I personally like to stand outside of my cabana shirtless with a boat drink, staring at the peasants below like Ralph Fiennes in Schindler’s List, except without the rifle or overwhelming antisemitism.

So now that you know the rules, here’s a couple observations from my family’s last trip to the water park.

We went to Dollywood’s Splash Country in Pigeon Forge, TN.  It was spotless, compared to a lot of other places we went to.  And unlike places up North, the good people of TN actually trust bathroom users with faucets that have handles and unlimited paper towels.  Seems like a small luxury to mention, but I despise having to wave my hands under a sensor faucet like a dirty wizard summoning luke warm water, and I hate hand dryers that just blow water from your hands onto your feet.

The employees there were very nice. The cabanas were spacious.  The “Timesaver H2O” plan worked out swimmingly (I used swimmingly, and there’s water involved… You saw that?).  All-in-all, it was probably the favorite of all we have ever visited.  And if it is not the favorite, it is certainly the best water park owned by a country western star with huge tits.

I mentioned the cleanliness and friendliness, but there’s one thing Dollywood is not concerned with, and that is nutrition.  I had a couple chocolate dipped frozen bananas while there because compared to the other fare offered, a chocolate dipped frozen banana is the quinoa of Splash Country.

I was actually standing on line for a banana, standing behind a lady and her son, who was probably 5 or 6 years old.  The lady was on her phone, and her kid looked up at me and asked “How tall are you?”

I answered “I am 6’5″.”, just as the mom was hanging up her phone, so she heard what I had said to her child, and she looked perplexed.

I should’ve left her to her own devices, but before she called Dateline, I told the mom, “Your son asked me my height while you were on the phone.  I don’t want you to think I am the kind of guy who drives his rusty van up to a random kid while holding a couple frozen bananas and tells him my height.”

And we all laughed… Uncomfortably.

Three other things prevalent in water parks outside of unhealthy foods are, beards, tattoos and overweight people (myself included).  I felt so comfortable there among people my own size.  I walked around with my shirt off which is something I rarely do, and is something I am forbidden to do within 500 feet of a school.

And looking at some of the couples, here’s a rule of thumb: The longer the beard, the bigger the wife.

If you want to prepare yourself better before heading out to the park, Google “drop belly”.  And if you need even more of an intro, Google “fat wings”… Which you would ideally love to see on a plate at The Anchor Bar, but not in front of you for the 20 minute wait to ride the log flume.

Last thing before I leave you is the newest phenomenon I witnessed in parks recently, and that is obese lifeguards.  Which I think incensed some of the other parents (moms and dads) who budgeted a fair amount of time at the park staring at young, hot life guards while waiting in line for rides.  Instead, their only viewing option was to spy a couple young men and/or ladies who I am relatively sure I could share a belt with. But I guess in today’s society, that is acceptable… Like obese cops, female firefighters, and Irish teachers.

That’s it on water parks, and if you didn’t learn anything today or enjoy what I wrote, at least you’ll never look at the word “amusement” the same again.

You’re welcome, and take a report.

-Large

*The correct term for a group of jizz enthusiasts is a “handful”.