I agree on this wholeheartedly. Especially the most recent iteration thereof, ROL Dessert Party. No way.
You’re so violent lately.
Did you take your heartworm pills? Do you need your nails trimmed? Are you running short of the catnip? Don’t make us re-home you!
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How do you manage to be so comprehensively wrong about everything ?
Were you born that way? Is it a skill you’ve learned and honed over your many, many years of life?
The HEA dessert party is worth every cent. You get primo viewing of HEA with zero stress. Zero. Nada. None. No stress. You don’t have to bag a spot on the hub six hours in advance and fight off vicious marauding crowds trying to steal it from you. You don’t have to stand halfway down Main Street, crushed into a mass of hot, sweaty humanity for two hours.
And you get ooey gooey cake afterwards.
How is this not the deal of the century?
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I so agree with this! Well, I don’t want to do ROL Dessert Party, but the only way I will ever see HEA is if it’s in a dessert party. There is no way you will get me in the horrible crowds to watch it.
This is where DVC stoogery has an advantage, in that it admits one to Top of the World. Arrive perhaps 45 minutes before fireworks start. Take a seat in climate-controlled comfort, and order a Beverage. Endure 20 minutes of baroque insults from Mike the bartender. About 60 seconds before the show starts, stroll outside and over to the railing where one enjoys an unobstructed, panoramic view. Return back to one’s seat afterwards for a nightcap and a parting, soul-withering insult.
One doesn’t get unlimited trays of pre-baked diabeetus, but I consider that a strong positive.
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I get primo viewing with zero stress every time. Have you even seen the photos?
I never have done it this way. And I land in the hub every time. With room to spare. One has to create one’s own pocket. Perhaps you are in need of more skillz.
And the cake? No thanks. Not a fan.
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What kind of a person are you? I don’t even know how to talk to someone like you. You don’t fancy Vladimir Putin with his shirt off. You don’t want to eat ooey gooey cake off Vladimir Putin’s naked torso. It’s like you hate pleasure or something.
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Rather, I take great pleasure in the finer things.
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Sir Les Patterson approves.
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