Get cosy and lend me your ears, amigos. I have something to share with you all. It’s a deliriously delicious theme park deemed just for adults and it’s opening its gates as soon as I scrape the funding together. It’s name? Cascadia. You’ve learned about the rules in part one and lay of the land in part two. It’s time for the meat of this adult theme park sandwich. And if you’re vegetarian, relax, meat is just a metaphor. Now open wide.
I have dreamed a thousand dreams detailing how the main attractions of Cascadia will swallow up entire crowds of misbehaving adults in a sea of bodies and booze and debauchery. Incidentally, these aren’t just my dreams. I’ve had some help from some pretty spectacular friends and visionaries. But I’m just going to publicly declare for legal reasons that this thing was my idea. There. No suing.
Also, no: You don’t get royalties for these ideas, friends. I’ll let you come to the park which should be ample proof of my saucy approval.
I asked around and got some great feedback from friends about what would really get them wet while at the park. Unanimous agreement: Wetland. This refers to everything aqueous if it wasn’t obvious. We’ll have four UV-filtered, heated pools, and one or two cold pools for those idiots who like to dunk their balls at breakneck speed. There will be one underwater entrance as requested by Craig Grocott. Dip your digits in a natural hot spring after we secure a geothermal drilling permit from the local Oregan Geothermal Committee. Or soak yourself under a waterfall, play in a water park with neck breaking slides, or muddy yourself in a spa that will pamper your noodle and other body parts. We’ll compliment the pool with an underwater cave, and we’ll tie in a swanky strip club behind the waterfall for all the lads and lasses who like to watch a little pole shimmy before they’re down to dunk.
Pools And A Sexy Water Park
I don’t have the square footage on this wonder yet, but we’re talking magnanimous detail splitting the pool and park area wide open to the public. I’m going bullet points because you’ll die if you try to ingest this all at once. It’s a footlong of fabulous.
- The pools will use an advanced UV filtration system the likes you have never seen.
- Pool water will chemically change from clear to neon if you pee. No peeing. Don’t be a dick. We can give you diapers if you’re incontinent, but everyone has to share the pool. And if you’re into peeing, do it in Sexland where people like to be pissed on. God, I hope the pools don’t take on a permanent violet hue. That would be bad for business. No pissing! Or pooping yourself either. It’s gross and incontinence still isn’t mainstream.
- Water canons and guns shaped like giant penises and voluptuous breasts that shoot crisp Portland water at imaginary childhood enemies. Don’t sit on the jets too long, kids. You can get internal damage.
- Multiple water slides all boasting amazing pump power; one aloe lubed propulsion slide just for fun.
- That one slide with the sides of a plastic canyon, where you dip down and come out the other side before being shot down finely tuned white water rapids. We’ll make sure the air mattresses have little cup holders so you can drink. No throwing up.
- Gin and vodka water guns housed in BPA-free plant derived plastic. Don’t aim for the eyes or we’ll boot you. Tit targets are fine as long as it’s consensual.
- Tasteful dolphin fountain that lovingly sprays vodka and sparkling water into your mouth right from its slit (half credit to Jeff Bolton).
- James Bond-like water blaster that boots your ass straight from one end of the park to the other inside a tube of water traveling at 500km/hr (another idea by Craig. Such a clever boy).
- Swing ropes and a giant bouncy fun bag lounging in the water. Use at your own risk.
- South facing patios with high-end loungers and hammocks that don’t make your skin look like a scabby pork shoulder.
- Poolside service. But no straws, no umbrellas, no disposable cups! They’re wasteful.
- Full inflatable stage with a movie screen to feature classics that kids most definitely can’t watch. Some rom coms, some tasteful porn. You know…the water lover basics.
The Underwater Cave
This cave will feature a sexy underwater entrance on the way to Sexland for all those overzealous kick swimmers. You probably want to have at least gotten your blue badge in swimming lessons to try this one out, folks. It’s a tad life threatening (don’t worry, there’s a current, you’ll bob up like cork under the dome two metres down). But you might get the bends and that’s your own fault, dumb ass. We warned you.
Once you kick float your way down the tunnel, you’ll emerge under the dome of an underwater cave lit by the wizard technology of a thousand glow worms on the ceiling. I think I have to import those from New Zealand, and the TSA is going to be a dink about it. Maybe I’ll give every member half price entrance for turning a blind eye.
Here’s where the jello shooters come in. I normally hate these disgusting diabetic delights, but here it feels somehow fitting in an underwater cave. Either that or patrons can slurp back glowing vodka fruit gummy bears. Not the sugar free kind.
Need I say it? No, we will not be playing dubstep. And no, you can’t hold your breath for four minutes, Aqua Man. It’s impossible. If you mosey on a little further, you’ve found your way to Sexland’s back door.
Watch out, the stairs are slippery.
Squirt: A Strip Club
Speaking of almost Sexland, I didn’t explain the waterfall and strip club, did I! There’ll be a breathtaking waterfall framed by natural river rock that guards the front entrance to Sexland. To enter, you’ll have to walk behind it and up a hill to a hidden, insulated forest that harbours your wildest fantasies. But if you’re not quite into bangin’, you can just hang out and watch beautiful dancers work the Squirt pole like nobody’s business. I think I’ll keep the viewing area in the water complete with swim up bar, so you’ll get pretty wrinkled and pruny if you hang around more than ten hours. This will incidentally make you look like a total perv.
After careful consideration, I’d also like to open up a series of pole and lap dance classes for my lovelies so inclined. We’ll be hiring like crazy and it’s a good way to suss out the talent. You’ll get a staff discount if you make the cut.
Note: We’ll allow tickling in the club since it’s right on the cusp of Sexland turf, but nothing really kinky.
Shiny Bars and Restaurants
If you’re thinking ‘standard carnie faire,’ you better back right up and go home. If you’re salivating over shitty Captain Hook servings of overpriced cod fingers and grainy belches of Bud Light, this park is definitely not for you. Also, you should really get your cholesterol checked.
Cascadia is delicious with a whole new pretext. Sustainable, locally grown, seasonal, mostly organic food that would make your mother proud (if she wasn’t raised on chuck steaks or grew up in Texas). There will be no frozen-thawed fries at Cascadia. There will be no deep fried coke or butters on sticks. There will be no ‘soft drinks.’ What the hell is a soft drink anyway? What’s soft about acidic, teeth melting syrups being poured down your gullet? You don’t need that to quench your craving for a little boozy highball. Everything you can do with pop, you can do better with Soda Stream. They’re not even paying me to say that.
We’re reinventing theme parks and all you can think about is butter on a stick and soda pop? Jesus Alexander.
You’ll want to bathe in our food
This will blow your donut-soaked small intestine away. Forget the puke-inducing food of theme park past. Depending on the season, at Cascadia we’re talking:
- Local artisans baking fresh breads and pastries every day.
- Rich brownies wrapped in bacon and cigar leaves, soaked in bourbon.
- A coffee and chocolate roastery and a brewhouse.
- Kraft Diner: A train sporting specialty pastas (I already told you about this in the last article. Show a little respect).
- Grass fed, hormone-free meats and cheeses from sister states.
- Good meat: even the assholes of our hotdogs will be healthy.
- I’m toying with the idea of Chickie Noobs, that fabulous chicken-tree-that-feels-no-pain idea from Margaret Atwood’s Year of the Flood. Feels like it could be an animal rights nightmare, but it’s still better than chicken beaks being cut off, am I right?
We’d even have a local beehive. I like bees.
Some important notes:
- If items run out because they’re seasonable, suck it up, buttercup. Have the squash.
- We’ll put all that biofuel from the frier to good use and power our shuttle busses. Fear not.
And actually, screw Soda Stream. Unless they’ve patented carbonation, I can totally see tapping into the carbon dioxide reserves in the Oregon earth as a way more feasible plan. Carbonation on tap. Sassy.
You’ll want to have sex in our booze (don’t, it burns)
- We’ll import regionally distilled sprits whenever possible.
- I’ll invite local brew makers to set up pop-up shops (the licensing is a bitch, but totally worth it).
- We’ll either cultivate our own wine or import the best bubbles and fermented grapes this park has ever seen from upstate.
- Booze would all be ‘on-tap’ except if it came in a bottle or something.
- No Budweiser. You’re a douche bag or an asshole if you support the right to drink shitty beer.
To keep things sustainable, we’ll have to be hard asses. So no straws—you can buy high quality reusable glass straws if you really need to suck on something, but your drink will be garnished solely with love. No fricking plastic tubes or little pink umbrellas or other stupid shit that just gets thrown out or floats in the swimming pool will be added. That also means no throw-away plastic cups. We’ll stick to corn, bamboo, or other stiff plant-cellulose plastics that will be mulched and composted on site for our gardens. Other packaging will be compostable or made of vegetative gelatine. We’ll partner with local farmers and donate our soil to kick the fields into high gear. God knows they’ve been leached of every nutrient available to humans and could use the help.
You can bring your own stupid sandwiches into the park, but whatever garbage you bring in, you take back with you. Yes—to your shitty car where it will sit and rot in the heat for three days because you stupidly thought you’d be saving money packing your own lunch. Amateur.
All that nifty shit like art, clothing, and fine goods or anything worth wanking over or coveting will be provided by local artisans and shopkeepers in a strip of rotating pop-up shops. This’ll give new shop owners a chance to lay out their wares to see if people are interested in supporting them longterm with a lease. A portion of sales or taxes on those sales will go towards saving the whales or climate change awareness or some shit.
You’ll have the chance to shop, glut, and eat pie, and feel pretty good about yourself, because, hey: you’re giving back to the local community.
Rides and Carnival Magic
You can’t have an adult theme park without its succulent share of midway rides and carnival games, my precious dewdrops. So you’ll be pleased to know that Cascadia takes crappy classics like the Zipper and Ferris Wheel and turns them into real guts and glory rides with a sexy twist.
For example, The Tilt-A-Whirl. What a lame excuse for a good time, am I right? What if the Tilt-A-Whirl became the Pearl Necklace? Perfectly crafted, slippery pearl cars attached to giant cables shooting you like a whipped bull around the slender neck of a happy lass? Way more fun, in my humble opinion. Like a money shot for your adrenal glands.
Look what else…
You saw it before and you’ll see it again. This time, an ergonomic wonder ride teases as it pleases. Jump aboard a silky moustache mane, hold on and ride the rails. You might die, but at least you got a moustache ride before you did.
Now that I’m letting my creative juices dribble, I discover that there’s a market for used carnival rides. What if a person were to create the ultimate Franken-ride? A disgusting (yet stylish) amalgamation of all of the sad-panda carnival rides desiccating on the buy-and-sell market? A ride so scary it might decapitate you a little. Of course, I aim to avoid any lawsuits from machinery malfunctions. This could be big, you guys. I’ll be looking for ideas if you gott’em.
Mud pits and racetrack
In case you didn’t get your fill of haemorrhoid-inducing excitement, we’re also offering a full dirt track with a mud pit for hottie wrestling, right in the middle of the midway. You can mudsling around the track in a full-sized bumper car (with fixer-uppers courtesy of Junkmycarportland.com. They’re “helping our environment 1 car at a time.” Then you can stand in line and watch cut young men and buxom young ladies duke it out in the mud.
There’s a butterfly garden nearby to absorb the additional carbon dioxide fumes and soften the roar. We’ll position waterfalls around it to deaden the twisted metal sounds, too. We’re not complete jerks.
The space simulator
This one will be a simulation of the simulator that NASA has been using to train its astronauts. If you don’t know that story, buff up. Zero gravity weightlessness is fucking cool. If you don’t want to hang weightlessly suspended, you probably shouldn’t come to this park. We’re all about walking on air and making dreams come true. How do I plan to make this happen? Secret connections with a few altruistic scientists that shall remain nameless. Steven Hawking is one.
Naked flying and the Pleasure Pit
These aren’t necessarily tied together, they’ll just sidle side-by-side. To hone the art of naked flight, we’ll use jetpacks fuelled by orange peels and opium residue. You can let your shrivelled bells and whistles hang lifelessly five hundred feet in the air and later ease your way into the Pleasure Pit (five feet of clear, naturally antibacterial stress balls waiting for some raw hide). Relax and get to know your neighbours while you sip on a fancy aperitif. The balls are hosed down each day by the militantly attentive staff. No pubic hairs survive.
If you like to ease your knees into a rubber dingy or pinch yourself inside a banana canoe (that’s kayak for the rest of you), we’ll offer professional and self-guided tours down the Sandy river. You’ll have to sign a waiver for that because we really can’t be held responsible for your drunk, naked ass getting mawed on by a black bear four miles downstream. Really. Don’t be dumb.
We’ll have it because you just have to these days.
Note: You have to do it in hot pants.
Imagine row upon row of juicy strawberry and blueberry plants offering up their sweet delights to any little tarts willing to pick them. We’ll figure a way for people to pick as much as they can carry with a minimum berry donation to fill the delicious crusts of the pies we bake at the Cascadia Pie Shop. The berries are also a real hit at Sexland.
Kitten petting zoo
This one’s a charmer. We’ll partner with the local SPCA to look after the unwanted fur balls of the Oregonian towns of Sandy, Welches, and Boring. We adults love kitties. You can pet them and feed them and brush them and clean off their eye goo. Then, when the kitties get too big, we’ll let them loose in the park so they can kill the mice or round them up and ‘relocate them’. [wink]
I kid. I’d sooner relocate the human race to Mars than fuck with a cat.
Video game, h.j. lounge
What could possibly be better than playing video games while getting a hand job? And by hand job, I mean either a genital treat or a hand massage for men or ladies while in the throes of premier video game action. We don’t discriminate. We’ll make sure the den is solar powered, and we’ll keep the area well ventilated. Sorry, no Doritos. Those things are air pollution.
Renamed from its original, ‘Lookout Point,’ Fuck Mountain is a towering spectacle overshadowed only by the volcanic Mount Hood, 23 miles away. As its name suggests, there will be a side devoted to fucking—because there is simply nothing better than a clear view of old pines through the front windshield while wiener deep. Plus, we’ll get some cozy cabins and a gondola straight from Sexland set up there. Pure bliss, I’m telling you.
The other side will be an impressive network of runs that will feature downhill couch and go-kart racing in the summer and board sports and tubing in the winter. We’ll tack on some LEDs and tiki torches for fun, but only if they’re sustainable. I’ll have to get my suppliers on the phone.
By the way, this isn’t an exhaustive list. I don’t really have all day to wax poetic about our extensive encyclopedia of carnival offerings. Just come and you’ll see what I mean soon enough.
Sexland (AKA The Fuck Park)
I know you’ve been priming yourself for this one. I ought to warn you: Sexland is serious business. It’s not the whole park, just a component. But an important one nonetheless.
Sexland is a place of wild fantasy and grown-up delight. It’s Hedonism surrounded by sustainable farmland. There will be naked hotties and there will be naked oldies (I’m not an ageist). Just no douches or assholes—we have to have rules. Bottom line: if your bottom needs a little attention, this is the place to go. You can pork 24/7/364 and nobody will have a thing to say about it. If you’re a prude, stick to Six Flags and don’t complain about your shitty hotdogs.
In order to manage the onslaught of a lot of really old, freaky people wanting to just take over Cascadia with their old people sex, I’m considering having a Seniorsland—it’s not a segregation, it’ll just be sensitive to the needs of older citizens and give them biodegradable wet naps and hammocks for narcolepsy and stuff. Some people like to watch Wrinklers do it, but lots don’t. We want to be fair to everybody. I’ll let you know where we end up.
I figure Sexland be about three acres—the size of Disneyland. That gives people plenty of room to romp-a-roo without infringing on each other’s territory, so to speak. And it will follow Hedonism rules but less grossness and more fucking. I really have to stress, people, this is not some free-for-all where you throw your seed wide and just leave it for the maid with a $2 tip. You can do all the things you imagined short of breaking pedophilia, necrophilia, rape, and bestiality laws (‘they didn’t get a choice’ being the common thread here). But you better damn well grab a mop and pail when you’re bone dry, because you won’t have fluffers cleaning up after you. That includes shit and piss, too, if you’re into that.
In fact, we may just have advanced wristband UV technology that can DNA spot match your contribution and flag you down for littering and allowing indecent exposure to airborne bacteria. The lesson is: don’t be a dick with your dick or box or you’ll be escorted out and drowned in a nearby lake by unaffiliated members of the community who are disgusted by your behaviour. I wash my hands of this. I’m not paying my highly trained staff to scrub your crusty semen stains off the whirlpool lights.
Anyway, there’ll be that fancy strip club waterfall to look forward to, but in addition you’ll be looking forward to the following:
- Cunt Swagger: a fancy dance club filled with cadillac tables and giant fishbowls filled with topless mermaids doing backflips.
- An airy dungeon that will smell of mint.
- A plethora of natural forests, boulders, hot pools, and sex pillows will be scattered throughout.
- We’ll feature a lubed slip n’ slide with a gentle downward slope (completely water based, aloe formula).
- We’ll utilize the trees in the area for fancy sex swings and acrobatic hoops. We’re all about sustainability and stewardship here at Cascadia.
- Natural rubber and bamboo sheets, regularly bleached (with borax—it’s nature’s gift).
- No vinyl in this park if we can help it. It sticks to your ass and leaves a pungent greasy puppy odour. Plus it doesn’t biodegrade very well and that off-gassing is a real pain.
- As an instalment of Clayton Cubitt’s Hysterical Literature, people can be tickled with vibrators whilst reading aloud from their favourite books.
- The Fuck Hotel will, of course, be built alongside at a premium price. To ensure no brothels or human trafficking, we’ll employ the ‘No douche bag/asshole rule’ since, by default, all pimps are both douche bags and assholes and they’re not allowed in the park. If men and women want to bang you for a Benny, that’s up to them, but we highly encourage bartering for vegetables or high quality cheeses instead.
There’s plenty more to the fuck park, but I’ll let your imagination run wild. After all it’s not the focus of the park, it’s just a component.
I guess that just leaves one category left: what you won’t see at Cascadia. Might as well be honest, even though this park will impress you and encourage you to invest in its phase two vacation property high-rise, it’s not the be all, end all. There will be plenty of try-hards that fail in its footsteps. But if this park spurs on imitations, I’m all for it. We honour childhood all the fucking time. How about a tribute to the meat and potatoes of human nature? Unabashed, unapologetic adulthood.
Things You Won’t See At This Park
Zoo full of caged animals
This is not a zoo or a wild life park. I just don’t agree with holding wild animals hostage in your own backyard. No peacocks, tigers, or orangutans. This is not some tropical paradise with monkeys free-balling in the trees. You want that? Go to Costa Rica.
Bottom line for animals: roam free or stay out of Cascadia. Except for the crows that will be spying on the people’s kinky sex moves and the cute fur balls in the open air kitten park, don’t expect to come to Cascadia and be wowed by animal splendour. It’s just not that kind of park.
Oh, and no pets. We’re not cleaning up your teacup poodle’s cute little coils.
Who really even likes clowns?? I mean, there are the juggalos, but we don’t need idiots lighting things on fire and spray painting their faces while masturbating, now do we. These guys have their own get togethers. They give a whole new meaning to clowning around, and frankly, it bores me. Now, I’m not saying they can’t come to Cascadia, but only if they behave and don’t pull any asshole/douche bag antics. And seriously, no Insane Clown Posse rap. It could start a revolution.
Certain illegal drugs
Whatever is legal in the state is legal in the park. So don’t be an idiot and bring your crack pipe onto the sun deck thinking you can sit and sip a fine chardonnay while you work on your crack-burnished tan. Not gonna happen. Now, I ain’t No-Fun Nancy and we’re not going to treat enforcement like a turkey shooting sport, but we’re aiming to create a cornucopian balance between all-out bliss and the long hand of the law, see? We don’t want Cascadia to be unjustly shut down, so your participaction is required.
The rule is: IF you get caught, we’ll look disappointedly away as we hand you right over to the nice police officers waiting for you in the parking lot. You’ll have to spend your weekend making it up to them with scented foot rubs and soft whispers while sleeping it off in the local Welches, Oregon jail cell. Tough love is still love, kids. Plus, we really don’t want broken glass pipes and fake snow littering the pathways. Know what I’m saying?
It makes sense to keep this a cash-free park. Your entry bracelets will act as your money trackers, wired right in with a set rate you predetermine when you remortgaged your home. Remember, these are the sophisticated bracelets I mentioned in the last article. They also monitor your blood alcohol level and report douche bags who sneak in.
When your money’s gone, we’ll be nice and give you access to ATMs that will add funds right your bracelets if you really think you need them. We’re not trying to bankrupt you, but it’s your responsibility to be a adult. We don’t want anybody throwing burning coins at the strippers (they do that here in Canada).
Instead, you can tip the talent with a little tap from your bracelet. Get it? Tip tap? In a cash-free environment, nobody is diving to the bottom of the pool for that godawful nickel, and your shorts aren’t going to look bulgy because of all those rolled up Ben Franklins. Don’t even lie, they’re ones.
Instead of offering those stupid stuffed animals made in a shitty factory when you nail the ring toss, we’ll make it worthwhile. You can either win back funds on your bracelet so you can go get boozier, or add your name to a draw for a shiny thing like an iPad or dildo or something. It really is a win-win.
If you’re pissed off because you wanted a stuffed bear and didn’t get one, this one’s for you. NO weapons. At Cascadia, the only accidental discharges we tolerate are from your lovely flesh guns. And we’ll hand you a biodegradable napkin and a tender smile if that happens.
This is a place of loving and boozing and enjoying each other, and in my opinion, if you need to bring your numchucks or your butterfly knife to a fun show, you’ve got a few more ideas on the brain than a friendly playdate. Show that sucker, and we’ll promptly frisk you and boot you from the park. Then you’ll be stuck in Boring, OR and that’s just no fun at all.
Well, there’s probably more, but shit, I still have to write the Terms of Service and call those lawyers up, so better get back to work. For now, let me just say this…
Cascadia is the one common dream resting lightly on the eyelids of every adult man and woman habituating this tiny little planet as they drift off to sleep. They may not know it, but this is the truth.
This is the dream that there is more to life than working and complaining or cleaning, or even parenting tinier humans. As the species lucky enough to be at the top of the food chain, we are granted, on average, 2,515,968,000 seconds to eek out a measly existence here. And guess what? If you’re 42 and reading this, you’ve already wasted half of that time. Probably eating Doritos and feeling bad about yourself, too. It’s time to stop that nonsense.
Cascadia isn’t some rocket ship ride to oblivion so we can screw around all day and forever forget our responsibilities (although that is a good idea. Let me write that one down). This is a wake up call. To stop living our lives for other people and instead have a little fucking fun. It’s a chance to be a real human being again. To stop letting our analytical brains turn us into a puddle of guilty soup—soup that is never satisfying nor satisfied. To stop trying to plan what we could or should be, stop trying to be rich or celebrated, stop trying to screw Scarlett Johansson. Seriously, she’s a nice lady. Leave her alone.
Cascadia lets us be what we are and love what we love. Do you want to come?
☝ Back to top. ☝