Hurricane Emily hits Disneyland

Yesterday I went to Disneyland for the first time ever. And those of you who live in LA might remember that yesterday the sky flowed with elegant torrential rains off and on all day.

We hid out from the rain for two hours at a bar in Downtown Disney.

Ever rode Space Mountain? Ever rode Space Mountain while drunk? Way better the second time.

The Indiana Jones ride is not that much to write home about, but it's infinitely better when you scream at the top of your lungs like the Cloverfield monster pops out from every corner.

"Oh my God, scarabs! Oh my God it's a fucking cobra! Holy crap it's animatronic Indiana Jones! Get the hell off my fake Jeep animatronic Indiana Jones!"

At first some Disney employee told us the Pirates of the Caribbean was closed. "That's gay!" I shouted. "But not in a homosexual way!"

My cohorts looked around fearfully as if we were about to be attacked by the gay Disney mafia. But I think my cunning tactics worked because ten minutes later the ride was open again.

Did you know that ride goes right by people dining outside in a fine restaurant? Not a good idea. We'd just come off the Indiana Jones thing so we were kind of punchy and loud. To that guy who's shirt I made fun of as we were floating by, I'm sorry.

One of the members of my group is a writer on an ABC Family show, so I bugged him all night for stories about his experience. He was very forthcoming and cool. We had a lengthy discussion during the Pirates ride about the thought process Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio must have used to get from this low-key ride to the well-written film that was the first Pirates movie. We decided that another actor might not have made Jack Sparrow work like he did and that if nothing else that film proved that any decent director needs to let Johnny Depp do what Johnny Depp wants to do.

The rain made things interesting. We rode the Matterhorn and every time we came out of the cave we got drenched, then went back into the cave again, then came out and got drenched, then back in. I thought it contributed to the realism of being on bobsleds in Germany with yetis attacking you.

They won't embroider anything onto the ear hats except your legal name. How lame is that?

I bought a hat and a Jack Skellington purse. That's right: a Jack Skellington purse. They also make Jack Skellington earmuffs and a Jack Skellington alarm clock which one of my group members who makes like eight times what I do at his job kept trying to convince me to buy him. I did not.

They make a Jedi Mickey and a Darth Goofie. Darth Goofie? Really? If anybody's Darth anything it should be Donald Duck, I think. Goofie should be the wookie.

All in all a fun experience was had by all. A the bar we watched a group of teenagers all dressed in matching black hoodies and carrying matching wallet chains line up neatly for their rebellious Social Distortion concert held at The House of Blues at Downtown Disney. It's possible that we heckled them.

We were very bad boys and girls.

When I go back I'll make sure it's sunny out and I'll buy more Jack Skellington paraphernalia to round out my collection.