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Yeah, there's been a black Green Lantern for some time now. Sigh--I miss Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman. No one filled that suit as well as she did.

Oh, so you were responsible for that noisy jet over my house, eh? Looks like your fight path took you right over the James River.

^That's understandable--it's a crazy world, particularly the online part of it. Better safe than sorry (although I doubt you have much to worry about from the folks who post here, you should stick to your own age group).

^OK--try not to go too insane on the job.

If only they'd made a deal with Florimonte's Deli or the Jamestown Pie Company in Williamsburg . . .

No other takers so far, so I'm bumping this thread up, just to make sure it isn't lost in the shuffle of the great "Travisfolgeralvey" debate.

If I pull this off, it'll be the greatest Elissa and Louise hot-action video ever!

Anybody planning on Kings Dominion this weekend? (I recall some scattered references in other threads.) I'm planning to be there on Sunday (but who can foreseen the unforeseen?), and wouldn't mind meeting a few more of the nut cases who post on these boards. Why we could all get together and . . . Have lunch Get our brains beaten in on Anaconda Riot and demand that they open Flight of Fear Snap ourselves silly on the Flyers Act cool by pretending to ignore each other while snapping embarrassing pictures to post later Whaddaya say, folks? Or will I be forced to do another "sad-and-pathetic" trip report? Chuck

Great horny toads! There are hippies on the UK trip? Git a haircut, ya dad-blamed varmint! Or at least have a Happy Birthday, Bill! Chuck

Well, be sure to use the right attachment. And kids, he is a professional. Don't try this at home.

You know, if this were a true "trip report," we'd be following the capsules as they work their way through Wally's system. What I dread is the final picture. Elissa's right--we should be very concerned.

That's on my agenda, too--probably on Sunday.

Anyone for some Sierra Nevada Bigfoot Barleywine-Style Ale? Ahoy, mates! Steal yerself a bottle 'o' this grog, sez I!

^And "Polkamania" is still running wild, I see.

So what if they get to run with the bulls in Spain! It takes a real man to bike with the ostriches!

Yes, I think "sad and pathetic" is sure to join DL castle stomping and donkeys in TPR lore. Any folks who are headin' a'Busch-ward let me know--I'm not always so "sad and pathetic." And thanks to everyone for the kind words, which warm the cockles of my sad and pathetic little heart.

Thanks, John--always a pleasure to be humiliated in public! Actually, I got a kick out of your announcement (as did the ACERs who rode before me when you announced them, I'm sure). There were some Coaster Zombies in the park that day, too. Yes, it was a sad day when Hummel Boy stopped moving; why, he was the scariest thing in the Festhaus during Howl-o-Scream! Watch out is the weather's good next weekend--the joint should be jumping.

I was waiting for front seats on all the coasters I rode, but the longest wait was for the front of Alpengeist. There's a sign saying that there's a 40-minute wait for the front seat, and it's not far off. So, crowds weren't bad at all (especially for a Saturday), thanks to the weather. If the weather's nice, the park should be busier (Sunday is usually the best day to go). You could walk on to Pompeii, LeScoot, and Roman Rapids, temps being in the high 40s and all.

I checked out Winterfest with some friends last year, and we all liked Carowinds quite a bit (especially Top Gun). I'm hoping to check it out this summer (my PKD pass works there, too) when it's going full bore. Maybe after Boomerang Bay opens--my North Carolina friends are always up for water-park action.

Sorry to hear about you guinea pig--it's never fun to lose a pet.

^When I first moved to the 'Burg (about 20 years ago) they were Busch Gardens: The Old Country and Busch Gardens: The Dark Continent. But political correctness made those terms unfashionable. Will the "new names" catch on? We shall see. That boat-of-beer pic was for you, Wally! I did sample this new "wheat" concoction while listening to the musicians in Grogan's--not bad beer, actually, but a bit on the weak side.

BGE opened "officially" for the season on Saturday, March 25, so I made my standard, sad-and-pathetic solo visit to mark the occasion. T'was a cold, damp, drizzly November in my soul, matched by a cold, damp, drizzly March day as I sallied forth, camera in hand, a lone traveler out to find a warm light to thaw the frozen reaches of my spirit. Was there no balm in Gilead? Would the laughter and screaming of the masses lighten the heavy places in my heart? Was there still joy following the long off-season? Well, yes. I enjoyed myself as I usually do at BGEburg, and there was only a light drizzle that day, hardly enough to dampen what's left of my hair much less my spirit, even though the coasters (particularly Alpengeist) roared to the tune of "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out." (Nothing on the Alvey's sojourn to Blackpool, though.) A pretty normal "day at the park," otherwise, but here are a few specific comments: In their enhancements to Curse of DarKastle, Busch has made an already great ride better. The upgraded show scenes are definite improvements, and that much-touted "fall" sequence has more force. Keep it up, Busch! The entrance to the train station at Heatherdowns is now through the gift shop. The big shop in Rhinefeld (with its Black Forest cookoo clocks, beer steins, and Hummel figurines) has been quite nicely reorganized and redecorated, with an expanded Christmas shop (well, if this is the South, ya gotta have a Christmas shop). Never, ever wait in line for the front seat of Alpengeist behind three 14-year-old girls in matching pick jackets who are busy eating green, plastic-looking, sugar infused glop when they're not punching each other in the arm or yakking on their cell phones. And now a bizarre interlude: While trying to get a picture of the Big Bad Wolf near the old Drachen Fire entrance, I had a rather strange encounter with some rather freaky looking old dude in an NRA ball cap. As I stood there, clinging to the black iron fence, waiting for the train to swoop by: FREAKY NRA DUDE: They shore do make it awful tough to take a pitchur, don' they? Y'all been on this'un yet? ME: Yep. Hello--I must be going. What this fellow was doing hanging out all by himself by the side of the Festhaus was beyond me. Perhaps he was another "sad and pathetic" solo rider. And now, in my obvious appeal for attention and sympathy, some pictures, with appropriately sad-and-pathetic captions. At the last, he returns to the one friend he can count on--Huge Hummel Boy. He confronts the towering Apollo's Chariot, the very size of which humbles him and confirms his lot as an insignficant speck in the eye of God! (And it's fun to ride, too.) and sweet Irish music. But the fiddler's rolling eyes speak volumes. In Ireland, they try to cheer him with a boatload of beer . . . But DarKastle beckons, and he considers leasing a garret in the topmost tower to forever join King Ludwig in his Dance of the Damned. But the rent is too high. The fluffiness of the lemon mousse in Aquitaine serves to, er, "enfluffen" his soul somewhat. At long last lunch, and his first ribs of the season. He is urged on by John, a TPR member, at his post. (When in Euroburg, y'all go and say "hi" to John.) He eundured 35 minutes of the antics of three obnoxious teenage girls in matching jackets, merely to ride in the front seat, while the monster mocked him: "Ha! No sad-and-pathetic, single rider line for you! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!" Next, he faced the cold claws of Alpengeist. only to face the tyranny of Father Christmas. ("Be good this year, or I will so beat you with this bundle of sticks!") He seeks the light of Yuletide next . . . Next up is the Big Bad Wolf--but his attempts at a new photo are shrouded in shadow and darkness, and disturbed by the presence of the freaky NRA dude. He takes the traditional first ride of the season on the Loch Ness Monster. Nessie's rough embrace serves to shake him from his lethargy--for a time. but his cheer is dashed on the rocks of despair when he sees this summer's concert line up. (Anybody up for a TPR meet to see Frankie Avalon? Didn't think so.) For a moment, his heart is cheered by the park's pretty new signage . . . The clock of Banbury Cross merely reminds him of the inexorable forces of time and decay--and that there's still two hours until lunch. Here, we see the sad-and-pathetic solo rider, after begging a cast member to take his picture, smiling sadly in an attempt to cover the desperation in his soul. Either that, or he feels hungry.

How about "Big Thunder Monsterhorn"?

^Boy, talk about a tough hoe to row (or something like that).