I just got back from having a happy hour with Sitcom Kelly. That’s always good for a blog post idea.
I had an idea of what I wanted to write about tonight, but I know that it would take time, sensitivity and care. I don’t have any of those things right now, because I’m basically still drunk. So I’m calling an audible. (Mrs. Bachelor Girl, that’s football-talk for changing the play at the last second.)
First, there are 2 factors at play here. For one, Sitcom Kelly (SK) has been promising that she’s going to start a blog, any day now. I’ve been prodding her along because given the material that her life hands her every freakin’ day, it would have to be a riot. So tonight she promised that she was going to start her blog this very night, as soon as she got home from happy hour.
There is no chance of this happening. The cats will need her attention, or she’ll spend 3 hours on the phone with her sister or some friend from out of town, or raccoons will have gnawed through her modem connection… there will be something that keeps her from starting a blog tonight. (Most likely, the 2 pitchers we sucked up tonight.)
The other thing is that she just got back from a trip to California and Colorado. Included in that trip was an excursion to Disneyland. One of the things she told me tonight is how she basically had to elbow kids out of her way in order to get the perfect photo of Donald Duck. (I don’t doubt this for a second.)
While I maintained that what follows would make a great post for SK to write, I know damned well that she’s not going to start anything tonight, other than a fresh bottle of wine. So with apologies rendered, I have to write about this idea.
Our discussion went on to wondering how marketable it would be to have some kind of Disney After Dark… an alternate Disney universe where there were no kids, the adults could revel in their lost Disney memories and fantasies, and the characters could let their guard down and enjoy a little adult interaction.
Can’t you just see it? Donald Duck gets to take off his top, as well as his pants, which he hasn’t ever worn in the first place. Maybe Mickey gets to put on a paisley shirt, since he never gets to wear one at all. He’s belly up to the bar and commiserating with the bartender without having to use that fake high-pitched voice. In my head, he sounds more like Krusty the Clown…
“Ehhhh… Fuckin’ Minnie… always busting my balls… look at her over there, playing the slut for the tourists…”
Minnie is in the back of the room, letting the grownups do body shots of Jagermeister out of her belly button.
“And look at those two,” pointing to Goofy and Pluto, who are smelling each other’s butts. “You just know they’re doing it doggy… well, you know.”
“Freakin’ Cinderella… she’s not even out of the pumpkin-mobile 10 minutes and she’s got Princes lined up out the door. Carrying on like she’s the Little Freakin’ Mermaid.”
Mickey points giant white thumb toward the redheaded mermaid across the room.
“Look at her… She says they all wanna ‘Kiss the Girl’. You know what I say? They’re just happy to find a hot chick that doesn’t talk! Bitch barely has legs for 10 minutes and already she’s got'em in the air.
“And what’s with those fucking dwarves, anyhow? They got their own high Ho, why they gotta be singing about her all goddamned night? It’s enough to drive a mouse to drink. It’s all I can do to squeak by any more.”
The bartender brings Mickey his food order… a fish sandwich. Mickey lifts up the bun, noticing the colorful fish within.
“See Nemo? Should’a listened to your old man. You wouldn’t have been in this predicament. Barkeep, a little hot sauce please?”
I probably should say that SK wouldn’t have taken the scenario quite this far. Perhaps she has more sense than I do…
*Note: This is just a product of my fevered imagination. This is NOT a paid advertisement for Walt Disney Enterprises, nor is there any such adults-oriented Disney attraction. Yet.