The Vacation from Hell: Ch 2: The Excrement Slingers

Last night as we prepared for a night of pain and suffering which would make us long for the sproingy springs from our first Bed From Hell, we realized that there was in fact no ceiling fan in the living room cum storage and music room cum Sleeping Chamber from Hell With Only The Faintest Illusion of Privacy Since It's Actually Right By The Front Door.

"At least we'll have a ceiling fan" had been the mantra which made the Sleeping Chamber Etc seem bearable.

At this point in The Vacation from Hell I just broke down laughing. As I told DH, it was like we were being carted along on one o' them conveyer belt thingamajiggers. Standing alongside it were groves of people with a handful or two of excrement. As we passed, they regarded us gravely, and slung handfuls of shit at us.

Splat!