July? When did it become July? Oh, what's that you say... today? Today it became July? Well, hot damn. Color me red and call me an Injun. That's crazy!

Anyway, we have good stuff to do this week! We're taking a road trip to Six Flags Magic Mountain. Me and my wacky husband will be taking off in the Rav4 for two nights of California madness and hopefully a touch o' mayhem. We'll be spending the 4th in a theme park!

This is where it will get exciting. I wonder how my old, creaky and sickly body is going to fare when it comes to being strapped into roller coasters, scramblers, loop-de-loops and flibberdee floos. I bet my teeth will chatter as the pain ripples down my compromised spine. I'll feel tremors in my ruptured disk and along nerves that have been enjoying a peaceful, non-jarring existence for the past 10-odd years. It should be wicked cool. I can't wait to see how many different views they will want to take on my x-rays. Wonder if I'll get good painkillers, or just marginal painkillers. They better not tell me to just go to Walgreens and pick up extra strength Tylenol and apply ice to my back. Eff that. I know how it will go down, and I know I will want what's coming to me. And what's coming to me is hardcore pain relief, damn it. Even if I've got to suck someone off in an alley to get it, I will have the good stuff, by God.

And then there will be the stomach upset. The ever-present threat of sunshine-induced migraines. Maybe some very sore feet coupled with scraped elbow (because I will trip at some point). Oh, man, this trip is going to rock me to the very core. Literally. My 'core' will be sprayed all inside my adult diapers once those rides are through with me!

Ahh, but I jest. I believe we will be FINE. I never once became nauseous on a ride, and I know how to stabilize my spine by tightening my core muscles, similar to what one does when lifting weights. The pleasure and unbridled fun will ease any slight aches and pains. Not to mention the greasy, expensive Six Flags food we'll ingest. Churros, pretzels, cotton candy, ice cream and hamburgers. What could be better than that shit for the Fourth of July! I can't think of anything. I believe our forefathers had celebrations like this in mind the day they signed that bitchin' Declaration of Independence. You KNOW John Hancock would be riding that Batman ride right next to Ben Franklin. They'd even scream like fratboys when their buckle shoes would go flying off as they went through those corkscrew turns. Then they would get off the ride, head to the beer garden, chill and cruise for hotties. That's what this holiday is all about: those dudes and their awesomeness.

I'm getting ahead of myself here, because it is still Sunday night right now and that means I shoudl go to bed so I can be bright and alert at work tomorrow. The party hasn't started yet. Duty in the form of work calls me like a siren on the high rocks of responsibility. But come Tuesday morning... look out. All bets are off. We're completely guano insane. It'll just be us, the open road, a cooler with snacks and refreshments and maybe a few dead drifters along the way.

We are going to bring Magic to that Mountain for reals, yo. Our special brand of magic. I can't divulge all the details, because then I'd have to come and kill you, but suffice to say our magic will involve sunburn, ear-splitting screaming, Abe Vigoda, a few human kidneys and several plumbers (sans pants). Classic!

This trip is a long time coming, I might add. Look at us and how completely tired of all this everyday crap we are: I know what you're thinking: "Poor devils. They truly need a holiday!" Well, we are ready to kick Independence Day ass by freaking the hell out at an expensive theme park and hopefully killing its scary dancing old man. And that's final.