Surviving the psychotropic death camps
In a moment of weakness I acquiesced and agreed to spend ten days trudging round the soulless, dismal psychotropic death camps they have spaced out round a certain bastard hot southern city situated part way up the only American state that resembles a flaccid, diseased scabby cock when viewed from the orbiting space station.

You see, the ring leader of this place, the Chief Bringer of Merriment and Joy, the Grand Priest of Everything Fun and Gay (the old scary use of the word, not the new fun use of the word), reigns supreme there like a tripped out fucking rodent GOD. And mere mortals shuddered at his MIGHTY big eared furry presence and immediately attempted to stuff hundred dollar bills into the oversized pockets of his frankly dodgy red trousers to cut out the middleman – the cunt's going to get all your money anyway. Might as well give him the lot up front and fuck off to the nearest Hooters to spend what little change you had left on a nice cold beer while ogling the braless girls in their sprayed on t-shirts as they demonstrate the art of jiggling unnecessarily as they fill up the saucers of beer nuts and ask if you’re from Australia.

Mickey Fucking Cock Sucking Corporate Whoring Mouse....

Ok, more a symbol of an evil empire than a celeb, as such – but I bet you show a kid from the Sahara a photo of Susan Boyle and another of the freakishly large, demonically grinning plague carrier and I’d be willing to put money on which one the kid recognizes.

It’s not the kids twatting about like Ritalin junkies. That I can handle – they’re so bombed out of their skulls on refined sugar I imagine they’d be having nightmarish flashbacks and sessions in therapy for years to come. No. It’s the adults. The FOLLOWERS OF THE MOUSE. The weird grownups kitted out head to toe in Disney merchandise. The couples in their late forties who pose for photos with the real live version of the cunt with the weird possessed eyes and the sort of voice you usually only associate with a botched gender realignment operation performed on a coal miner from the Valleys named Trev who’s currently undergoing some serious hormone replacement therapy and pulling tricks in the car park on the side to support a troubling amphetamine addiction.

It was like going to a fucking cathedral with a load of Catholics, some kind of religious experience (except you got to complete your Mickey and the Magic Kingdom snow globe collection, a snip at a zillion dollars – no refunds given).

Mickey Mouse. Cunt... Worst holiday I’ve ever been on, EVER !!!

OK, it might have had something to do with the fact I’d shelled out a couple of grand I could barely afford for the trip and my girlfriend of the time thoughtlessly and incredibly selfishly started her period the first night we landed and I didn’t get any sweet poonani action for the entire length of our stay...

Ever tried finding wank material in a Disney World resort hotel?

Frankly, its unpleasant finding yourself tugging one off in the bathroom to a glossy postcard featuring Ariel having a little bit of a dance round a clump of seaweed, showing a little bit of supple white tit while that talking lobster winks at you knowlingly, poking out from behind one of her (sexy) little ankles...
( SpankyHanky, Fri 5 Feb 2010, 0:16, 6 replies)

Been there too and hated it
Corporate shit pit. Didn't wank over that mermaid bird though, you wrongun ;)
(Accounts Dracula, Fri 5 Feb 2010, 0:55, closed)

ariel, my arse
it was ursula and you know it!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 5 Feb 2010, 1:38, closed)

Have to disagree...
Have done the Disney thing, and enjoyed it, mostly. The trick is, to get real enjoyment from the parks, you have to start at the back and work your way forward...

Universal Studios is much better, though.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 5 Feb 2010, 1:59, closed)

Shoulda just MTFU and gotten your red wings, mate.
That said, I have no desire at all to ever go back to Disney. Been there twice and that's sufficient.

For that matter, the same applies to the state of Florida.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 5 Feb 2010, 3:07, closed)

Ah, Ariel...
Snow White was always more my scene, although it would be fucking confusing coming out of her bedroom after a one-night stand and finding a load of little fellas running round with pick-axes.
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Fri 5 Feb 2010, 12:11, closed)

Just to be a pedantic arse
but Ariel was a mermaid unless I'm very much mistaken, so how a lobster would be peering round her "ankles" when she has a tail is quite interesting.

Sorry, it's a minor detail, I will slap myself for mentioning it.
(wehttamman via B3ta for microwave, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 12:50, closed)