I do a lot of things in my car that I don’t do normally do otherwise. I scream out loud, I sing, I lay down on a seat instead of a couch, I run from the cops, etc. There is just something about having a heavy metal layer of protection around you that allows you to be your bitter self instead of pretending to smile like I do at work, or when I shop or eat. You don’t even have to pretend to have holiday cheer while in your car.
On Sunday, my family and I were on a drive and we were listening to Radio Disney (because the Comedy Central Channel doesn’t target the younger demographic) and one of those radio contests came on. You know the ones. If you are the 12th caller, you get a prize, usually the most annoying one imaginable. My kids were in the back seat begging me to call and see if we could try to win.
My wife set up the bluetooth thing to her phone and dialed the number a few times to see if we could get through, but the first few times, it was just buzz, buzz, buzz. My wife turned the duties over to me, so I hit repeat. I was ready to give up after one try, as I always do, but unfortunately someone answered the phone (my old nemesis Phone strikes again). They all yelled “Are we the 12th caller?” and we handed the phone duties over to my daughter since they probably wouldn’t appreciate a bitter enemy of Disney being their 12th caller.
“What is your name?” the not so bitter Disney radio host asked. The family all whispered way too loud my daughters name to her in case she forgot. The not so bitter host told us that we were the 12th caller and we won. “I’m gonna pass you off to some person and they will get your information. Congratulations.”
She won a CD. And once again, my bitter rival, Disney strikes again. Just like Disney’s Darth Vader keeps popping back up over again to strike down the Rebels, Disney keeps popping up to strike me down with this CD. They used the Force to get our home address (like they couldn’t have just used the GPS tracker and cameras they set up in our house). Just like the Godfather, just when we thought they were completely rid of them, they puuuled us back in.
After we give one of their minnions our information, she tells in her sweetest Disney girl voice, “It will be delivered in 6-8 weeks.” Oh great, just in time for the holidays to wear off and us to have no use for it. Why does it take 6-8 weeks to get something to us, Dictator of Disney?
Is it because Pluto your delivery dog has a dog sled race planned before he can paw deliver it? Is it coming on Steamboat Willie Delivery Service but they need to wait until color can be invented before they can start delivery? Are they in the middle of acquiring the White House to change it to the Mouse House and nothing can be approved until that goes through? Is all the mail being changed to mouse mail instead of snail mail?
They made sure to tell us that we should hold on the line, so we could hear the brief 12 second discussion on the phone so we could get our edited 5 seconds of fame. So we waited through and unlistenable song by Arianna Grande, a Taylor Swift oldie and some other future former child star that will have their own E! True Hollywood story before they become less famous than me.
Why did they do such a devious thing? So they could Hulky(their Marvel version of bully) us into listening to their music so they could hypnotize our family with subliminal messages of “Go see Ant-Man. Wait in line for 8 hours at Disney Land. But some junky Star Wars dress up outfits. Watch the Disney Channel. Like Justin Beiber.” My family of course, was sucked right in, but I have anti-Disney Bitterness that protects me from the evil Cheeriness that most fall prey to. So I was safe for now.
Who knows what other evil Disney positivity hides in the wide open areas. Who can fight the Dismile with the Bitter Frown? No one really knows, but know this. You can lead a bitter guy to a Disney Water Fountain, but you can’t make a bitter guy drink the Disney Kool-Aid.
Bitter RadioNo Disney Ben