Joined: Jan. 2006
[Graffiti moved to Bathroom Wall. -Admin]
TOTALLY OFF TOPIC, BUT I CAN'T RESIST
Hermagoras: "I've been traveling for a couple of days and my crappy motel didn't have an internet connection in my room. (The Comfort Inn in Newark, Delaware is a fleabag horror-show)."
Sorry, Mate, but THIS is a crappy motel: About fifteen years ago, my Aunt and Uncle wanted to go to Oregon to visit some friends and also see their daughter in Great Falls, Montana on the way. My mother decided to go along and I was "invited" to join them and handle the baggage and do all the driving. So we took Amtrak (which was only six hours late leaving Wisconsin, a record, I hear) from Wisconsin to Great Falls, then rented a car and drove to some national park, then took a train, then a car and finally we ended up I don't remember exactly where, but it was a medium sized city where my Uncle (who, bless his departed soul was rather tight with a buck) had made a reservation at a Super-8 motel.
I found the address on a map and started tracking towards it and we couldn't help notice that the town, which shall remain nameless because I can't remember it, started out looking kind of pretty, but as we drove on it was starting to look rather ... industrial. Low rent industrial. And the closer we got to Ground-8, the more low rent and industrial things got.
We finally found the Super-8 motel and I swear, it had a refinery behind it, a quarry/rock crushing plant to one side of it and something that smelled like a skunk rendering plant on the other side. The front faced a freeway interchange (with 24 hour semi traffic, of course).
We checked in ("Find another motel? But we have reservations here!") and the place seemed to have been made by parking a bunch of double-wide trailers next to one another and punching a hallway through them. The surface of the floor varied up and down by at least eight inches as we walked to our room (which was on the rock-crushing end of the motel). I couldn't help but notice that our room (me and mom- don't ask) also had a floor that listed perceptibly, but that was okay because I like to sleep with my head higher than my feet. So we all went to sleep.
We were awakened at about 6:30 am by a loud, piercing shriek coming from the connecting door that led to my aunt and uncle's room. The loud, piercing shriek turned out to be coming from my aunt. She had woken up, walked into the bathroom and stepped into something wet. She turned on the bathroom light and discovered that the sewers had backed up and every bowel movement that every inhabitant of that cursed motel had taken in the last two weeks had gurgled out of the toilet and all over the bathroom floor and half of their bedroom floor. (That was about the time the shriek started.) When I got there, I noted that the bathtub was about two thirds full too. My aunt was and is rather fastidious (think O'Leary, but with a sense of humor) and stepping into three inches of crap upset her a tad. As did discovering that she had the remains of a turd squished between her toes. IIRC, she didn't stop shrieking until exhaustion and fumes from the bathroom overcame her.
We left that enchanting place as soon as four people could use the one remaining non-BMed bathroom (and my aunt could pry the rest of the turd from between her toes) and my final view of that wonderful Super-8 motel, which was in my rear-view mirror as we headed for the freeway at about a hundred miles an hour, was of the sewage truck sucking out their cesspool.
Now THAT is a bad motel!
We now return you to your regular programming where I invite you to note the top of the page where young Salvador Cordova, YEC, reminds us all that his blog is "Dedicated to exploring the possibility that all universe(sic) and life have come into existence very recently by an act of Inteligent Design".
Now don't go calling ID Creationism again, you heathens!