What To Expect From The Disney College Program

          The other day I woke up to find my entire bathroom covered in vomit. This was after one of my roommates shit himself but before I watched a three year old pee into a bag while waiting in line to ride Soarin’. Let me back up. Before all of this, eight people from my apartment complex were terminated because they decided it would be a good idea to have an orgy in the Vista Way hot tub. I’m sorry, let’s go a little further back. The Disney College Program is magical. I’ve written several blogs (keep in mind, blogging is still totally hip) about Disney but this is the ultimate What To Expect When You’re Expecting Something Completely Different Blog.

                First of all, the application process for The Disney College Program is redonkulous. Applying for the CIA is easier than Disney. Believe me, I’ve applied for the CIA. They didn’t accept me because I was too well known with my blog getting at least 14 hits a day. So. After you apply you’ll get an e-mail saying that you’re an idiot or a phone call from a Disney Princess saying that you’ve moved on to the interview round. Then, after you’re phone interview you’ll get an e-mail saying that you’re an idiot or a Disney Princess will congratulate you for becoming a slave for a fortune 500 company.

                Don’t get me wrong. I love working here. I wouldn’t have done a second program if I didn’t. But I see a lot of people asking about the program on the Google and the Facebook and I am now performing my duty as a Disney slave to let all future CPs (college program students) know how this whole process works.

                So now you are one of the 6,000 that was accepted of over 60,000 applicants. Awesome! Feel good about yourself? Don’t! You are going to be working with some of the dumbest people you have ever met. Imagine working with the invalid from The Goonies, the invalid from Glee, and the invalid Nicholas Cage every day for four months. Imagine going to work and having these people as your bosses. You have now made a journey into your imagination. Welcome back. The Disney College Program website will tell you all of the things you should bring with you. The Disney College Program website fails to mention things like pillows, sheets, your fleshlight, and other essentials. Think of coming here like your freshman year at the dorms. You wouldn’t start your freshman year without your gravity bong would you?

                That brings me to the next topic of discussion. Termination. Don’t actually bring your gravity bong. And if you do, keep it in your car. And if you keep it in your car, use your That’s So Raven eyeball zoom to predict when the drug dogs come and sniff out the place. You can literally get fired for anything. ANYTHING. My roommate literally just got termed because he was deemed “too unstable.” Granted, he did act like an arthritic elephant nearing its final days but still. Just the other day two CPs got fired because they tried to ride the rides during magic hours with expired hotel key cards. If you get termed, you have basically 24 hours to pack up your shit, call your parents, and book a plane ticket home. Then, Disney leaves a card for you congratulating you on your experience!

                So you get to Orlando, you’re nervous, you have to go to someplace called Vista Way but it doesn’t really show up on your GPS, you’re probably overdressed and you’re probably gay. Most of the men who work at Disney are indeed homosexuals. Strangely enough, the company gets lots of Mormons as well… You’ll show up, see a lot of other kids your age, and you’ll spend the next two hours waiting in line getting your housing processed. It could be really boring but my favorite game to play is Spot The Closeted Kids! Or another good game is Spot The Unfortunate Girls Checking Out The Closeted Kids! It’s fun. While you’re standing in line, you will have the option to live in a 1, 2, or 3 bedroom apartment in either Vista Way, Chatham, or Patterson. Vista is where the party’s at, Chatham has the biggest rooms, and Patterson is the nicest. If you’re reading this now, you’re probably thinking, “Well duh, I should pick Patterson.” Beware, the kids who do research like you’re doing now are probably antisocial, introverted, and gay. Everyone who lives in Vista didn’t do their research so they’re probably not-so-smart, really social, and gay.

Vista Way-

Chatham-

Patterson-

                After you unpack your things and meet your roommates, you get to stand in another line! You will be going to the Casting building to get all of your paper work filed and your work location. They say it lasts two hours. Expect four. I like to call this process the WE NOW OWN YOU process. They take your fingerprints, do a background check, photocopy your IDs, and probe your anus to test for a positive or negative reaction.

                Phew! Day one is over and you survived! Time to go home, get to know your roommates, and call your parents to say that everyone you live with seems pretty nice. Come three weeks you’ll be calling them crying because Brittany keeps accusing you of stealing her Pringles. In the next couple days, you’ll go to the All The Different Ways You Can Get Fired Meeting, Traditions (where they teach you the history of the company), and Discovery Day (where they tour you around the park and you finally find out what your role is). As I’m writing this, a four year old girl with a Jew fro is tap dancing next to me in Starbucks.

                Before we conclude, let’s wrap up this whole gay business. 80% of the men who work here are gay. Nearly all of the women are straight. It’s a sad, sad world for the girls here; surrounded by princes who are only interested in other princes. If you are straight and a boy, you are in luck. With just these two features alone, you can save seven dollars on your Axe Body Spray. Imagine throwing thirty female cats in heat in one box and then adding two male cats. One of the boy kitties is impregnating all of them and the other boy kitty is clinging to the top of the box saying, “Icky.” People come to Disney to come out. They may not know it yet, but when Darth Maul gives Tigger sex eyes in the changing rooms, you can bet that they will be overcome by the Dark Side.

                 What can we learn from today’s lesson? Brittany is bitch. All you need to do is call housing and tell them that she keeps talking about how she wants to kill herself. They’ll fire her because they don’t want to deal with hassle of a death and they’ll say that, “she clearly isn’t happy here and needs professional help.” Then, before she leaves, steal her fucking Pringles. 

How To Survive College

            “Oh, there goes that crazy, gay kid.”

            “Who?”

“Bradford something. He literally made a girl cry in my class last semester because she was sitting in his spot.”

“Oh yeah, him. I heard that he went to Disney World and when he came back he just lost it. Like, he’s failing all of his classes and I heard he’s run over five cats with that super bright gold car. Oh, and I heard he’s dying of AIDS.”

                This is how I imagine my classmates talk about me. To be fair, I don’t kill animals with my car, I dissect them in my basement and save them in Welch’s grape jelly jars. And I’m the worst student in the entire world. THE ENTIRE WORLD. Thank Jesus Christmas that I am done with school. One time, my teacher threatened to move me to a different part of the classroom because I was so disruptive towards everyone. And I was like, “That’s not going to do anything! I’m just going to have to talk louder so they can hear me!” I am 22.

                I was basically the devil. I did everything in my power to escape class time. In the beginning of my college career I would just not show up to class. It turns out that is a bad idea. Like, I thought my absence was going to go unnoticed when I’m always raising my hand, lecturing someone, or falling asleep. And then, when I would get lectured at I would say, “Girl! I’m sleeping because I spent all night reading your stupid book!” “Girl! Lady Gaga is completely relevant and topical to this discussion!” “Girl! You know we’re best friends.” It’s extra effective if my professor is a man.

                So eventually I figured out that if I go to class but I just leave early that 90% of the time I would still receive attendance points. Then, if the professor would bother to ask where I was going I would say one of two things. 1. “I have an interview at three so….” Or 2. “I have to poop….” Both were extremely effective. THEN, just this past semester I created one of the most amazing things. I just Google image searched “Doctor’s notes,” opened Adobe Illustrator, and then designed my very own doctor’s note!

Thank you for your signature, Dr. Roommate. Oh, what illness did I pretend have you ask? That’s actually very personal. 

Oh, I did this just the other day and it worked like a Charmander. So let’s say that you have a paper that you have to submit online to your professor. All you have to do is search “notepad” in the search bar under the Windows icon. I don’t know how this works for a Mac but you can just find yourself a nice school computer to use. Then, open Notepad, and click File, Open, and use literally any document in the world. When it opens, the screen just looks like a bunch of symbols. Delete a chunk of the symbols, then save it under the same name and submit it! If you try to open the document, a little screen will appear that says something about how Word is unable to blah blah blah. Then, your teacher will e-mail you and simply ask that you resubmit the paper. It buys you at least 24 hours to finish.

                If I actually had to be in class, I would do all that I could to disrupt the lesson plan. It’s really easy. You just have to shout the following sentences to avoid assignments or class time.

    "I think I speak for everyone when I say that we should leave early.”

                “Let’s watch Avatar!”

                “It’s soooo nice out. Nobody wants to be here. You don’t even want to be here.”

                “Isn’t it time for your cigarette?”

                “I wanna watch Charlie Bit My Finger.”

                “With all due respect, we’re so over it. I mean we’re over all of it. We should just go. Like, now.”

                One semester I had two classes with the same professor. She has chronic pain in her legs and her medication makes her super loopy. So not only is she slow but she couldn’t even teach because her head was all fuzzy. We used to play this game where we would count how long she would pause in the middle of her sentences. This is how it would go, “So a Press Release is really about… (46 seconds later) …giving information to the public about the client.” 46! Count to 46 right now. Imagine waiting that long for a completed sentence. I can’t even wait 10 seconds for the You Spilled My Coffee video to load.

                So since she couldn’t walk too good, she was always late to class. One day I logged on to her computer, turned on the projector and the speakers and started playing Youtube videos. Nobody stopped me, but nobody was encouraging me either. So we watched Otters Holding Hands and Boom Goes the Dynamite and by the second video everyone was having fun and laughing. Then, Old Miss Legs Don’t Work Too Good walked into the classroom and everyone got very quiet. So I played another video. She was so high that we just got to watch Youtube for the first half hour of class! And then I said, “Can we leave early today? We’ve basically covered everything.” Forty five minutes early! BOOM!

                I tried all of these tricks for my 21^st birthday and nobody was falling for anything because I already missed too much class so I had to go to all THREE of my classes on my birthday. I was pissed. So I decided that if I had to be in class I was going to be inebriated. I went home between my second and third class, filled up a Pepsi bottle with vodka, threw it in my trunk, and drove back to school. Then, I chugged it in the hallway and arrived singing Paparazzi probably louder than I realized.

                So I’m in class, and I’m feeling good and I think to myself, “This is great! I should do this all the time! Nobody even knows!” And as I’m thinking this, the girl next to me leans over and says, “Are you drunk?” And I was wha-?! But in my real life I probably sounded like Scooby Doo. “I can smell it on you. You reek.” And as she’s saying this, my professor goes, “Oh, Brad since you missed class on Tuesday, why don’t you do your presentation?” Um. Welp. I don’t remember exactly what happened but I do know that I stood up and then the next thing I remember is everyone clapping and my teacher telling me how “interesting” my presentation was. I received an A.

                What can we learn from… (count to 46) …my academic dishonesty? I don’t know. It’s like whatever, man. Life, you know?  

Cindy Quotations

                Normally, I think that I’m pretty funny and offensive and those are two of the best qualities about me. I’m also pretty good looking. I’m proud of my ability to write a decent one-liner but I didn’t realize how sophomoric my skills actually are. My friend Cindy (we’ll call her) can literally beat the shit out of you with her words.

                Cindy is one of the funniest people that I have ever met. She got mad at her mom once because they disagreed as to why they named their dog “Coco” and Cindy was so enraged with her mother’s answer that she threw her phone against the wall as hard as she could. One time she passed out in a pile of leaves in front of my house. Another time, we just had a nice breakfast.

                I posted a disclaimer on one of my last posts about how that was the most distasteful (thank you Microsoft Word Thesaurus) thing I’ve ever written. Well, this isn’t the worst thing I’ve written but it certainly is the most shocking and horrifying post I’ve created. And I didn’t write these things or make them up. These Cindy quotations are verbatim. I give this blog a NSFCP: Not Safe For Children or my Parents. Further, Cindy does not have a drinking problem, she is not mentally handicapped, and she is not an abusive girlfriend…

Oh and Ben (we’ll call him) is her BF BTW-

Cindy:

I had an interview at this bagel shop one time but I couldn’t figure out how to use the bus system so I didn’t go.

God I’m so thin and beautiful, it’s disgusting.

I woke up in a giant pile of leaves last night.

Do I sound drunk? … Ok well yeah, I am what I am.

Ok this is probably too soon but… Can I move in? This couch is so perfect because I’m so tiny and thin and small.

And I still haven’t told Ben I have my period. It’s going to be so funny when he penetrates me and I start bleeding and I scream, “You hurt me! You hurt me!” Ha it’s going to be so hilarious.

Oh my god. I’m going to have to start telling him that his balls smell like rice because I don’t know how to communicate with him differently.

I don’t think I have any makeup in Mankato… God I’m such a lesbian.

I was super drunk and my dad tried to forcefully make me leave and I was like, “I’m 23. I’ll drive home.”

We were at this baby shower and we were taking shots upstairs and this bitch wouldn’t let me hold her baby.

I once watched my brother pull a chip out of his boxers and eat it.

Don’t you ever imagine what it would be like to just have nice sex for once?

I’m so lucky I don’t have a super attractive brother… It would just be so hard for me…

I’m going to try to convince Ashley to change her baby’s name from Amelia to Ke$ha.

That’s the gayest thing I ever… Ok by “gay” I mean faggy.

Duh. Of course bisexual women are more prone to being overweight. Duuuuuhhhhh.

Tiffany fell down a flight of stairs. (laughs) Then, I crashed a wedding. It was the best night of my life and I don’t remember any of it.

We got in such a huge fight on my birthday because I thought that it would be an appropriate time to tell him I had sex with someone else… he almost started crying. (laughs)

I was talking to Ashley about her baby and I hear Ben go, “Well I just dumped a load in her.” What the hell! I’m not a cement mixer.

And the thing is everything is blamed on my drinking…

                You can see why she’s my friend! What can we learn from Cindy? She’s a trooper and we all must aspire to be like her. She will be blackout and will still demand to drive home or hold a baby. That’s tenacity, people. That’s tenacity. 

How To Not Handle A Break-Up

I haven’t had very many real romantic relationships because 1. I didn’t have friends until I was 16 and 2. I don’t like people very much. I almost got kicked off the speech team my sophomore year because of how much I said I disliked everyone. Sometimes my dad will ask, “Did you get beat up yet?” because he’s seen how I behave towards slow drivers and front butts. Anyway, seeing as it has been nearly a year since I broke up with my ex, I think now is an appropriate time to write about it. “You know I'm not goin' diss you on the internet,” said Destiny’s Child and I’m not going to “diss” him either. I’m just going to factually state everything that happened from my perspective which is the correct and only true perspective.

                First of all, let me break it down for all y’all what happened exactly. We dated for four months when I was living in Mankato and then I moved to DISNEY WORLD where dreams come true (sung in a sing song voice). He came to visit me once but then he cheated on me so we broke up blah blah blah. He also told me that was happening over a text message. Has he seen the Kelly video Text Message Break Up?! It came out in high school and everyone was watching it! There was a dancing storm trooper in it, how do you forget that!? Ugh, I’m writing this on campus and something here keeps making my ears vibrate.

               Well, I did not handle this separation very well. I handled it like a mother who’s baby is diagnosed with SBS. My baby just kept on a shakin’ all over the place and I kept trying to hold it still! That’s how SBS works, right? Different analogy. I handled it like a 6 year old rapist. That six year old just wanted to kiss someone and no one would let him so he would have to trap them inside of the twirly slide and they just wouldn’t sit still so he had to handle them! … Someone needs to put me down.

So I Googled “How to deal with a break-up” (like any other person would) and I found good ol’ WikiHow’s How To Get Over A Break-Up. There are 14 steps and I failed 10 of them.

1.    Think through everything thoroughly but not obsessively. Welp. I had nothing to do but obsess because I was working in the Speech office where all I do is sit on Facebook all day and every so often answer the phone and make copies. As I was obsessing, I found this AMAZING website. http://www.getrevengeonyourex.com/ It’s phenomenal. The best service is that the website will call your ex as many times as you want and say what you tell them to and of course, it’s completely anonymous. I never did anything on this website because I took the effing high road but it sure is a sneaky temptress.

2.    Don’t rethink your decision. I rethought my decision to slash his tires but instead I commented on a picture of us on Facebook- “I completely forgot about this picture. It’s so weird to think that I was standing next to people that in the future I would hope would die in a terrible fire.” The best part was that three people “like” it so I felt justified.

3.    Keep your space. I did this one okay because I spent most of my time lying naked around my house watching Grey’s Anatomy.

4.    Cope with the pain appropriately. Is anything I do appropriate?

5.    Deal with the hate phase. I think that I’m dealing with it right now. I think I also dealt with it when I told anyone I knew to go to Caribou (where he works) and throw hot coffee in his face. Okay that would not be as funny if someone actually did it BUT I did find out that Caribou flooded and there was shitty water all over the floor so that made me feel better. I also saw him the other day (which was awful) but I saw that he gained some weight (which was awesome)!

6.    Talk to your friends. Friends? Oh right. My speech friends moved away and Stupid Head’s friends decided not to tell me that he was seeing someone else who looked just like Todd Flanders but with Down Syndrome.

      My friends consisted of The Real Housewives and the drunken people that walk by my house at two in the morning. Don’t worry though. I found out that Todd graduated last year and he’s sticking around Mankato to date a douchebag so I talked about that with some of the drunkards and felt way better.

7.    Write all your feelings down. Blog time, baby! I got one!

8.    Make a list of reminders. I did actually! The two best ones are, His breath smells like sour milk and, He’s not nearly as good looking as you. Thanks for the reminder, depressed me! Your correct!

9.    Out with the old, in with the new. This means cleaning. I’m not super about cleaning especially when my apartment is just so messy. But it wasn’t even that bad! Four bags of Jimmy John’s orders and a dozen Starbucks cups lying around doesn’t mean anything!

10.  Remove memory triggers. Okay. I blocked him on Facebook pretty quickly but then I had a moment of weakness one day. I looked up his Twitter and the bastard’s profile picture was of us at DISNEY WORLD where dreams come true sometimes (you were a little off key that time) and I’m CROPPED OUT! SEE?!

      I had a friend look at this to make sure that I wasn’t crossing this imaginary line that I everyone seems to know about and she said that posting photos of actual pictures of him made her feel uncomfortable like she was watching The Break-Up or a mentally challenged person waiting for the sign to say “walk” when everyone else knows that the light won’t turn unless you hit the button. So I gave him a new face that I like better. But then she said that the caption for the edited photo should say, “I’m feeling self conscious about myself, please like my sexy photo.” Which is hilarious because I don’t need to take pictures of myself to make me feel better. I’ll eat a pizza, instead, okay.

11.   Find happiness in other areas of your life. Does Ice Hole count?

12.   Stay active. Does going to the store to buy a bag of Skittles for lunch count?

13.   Let go of the negative emotions. … Okay. (Clearly I need to work on this one).

14.   Remind yourself of the negative things. I can do this one! I can do this one! Um… I started typing all of the negative things about him and then I just saw on WikiHow that I’m actually not supposed to do that. So. 

                     What can we learn from WikiHow and my break up with Stupid Head? (Besides the fact that people are going to read this and think that I’m a crazy person and I’ll never get a date ever again). We can learn that I am stronger like Britney or Kanye or Kelly or any other artist who has nothing original to sing about. I saw this meme the other day that said, “It is better to have loved and lost than to be with a douche bag for the rest of your life. Valid. Also. I found a Teletubby on the black market for only two grand. It’ll follow me wherever I go so I can watch Avatar on its tummy anytime I want. Suck it. 

Letters For My Coaches 4

Laura is super awesome and she came back to school to get her undergrad and her masters when she was, like, 40. She likes guns, motorcycles, and being amazing. 

Laura,

Your ability to be the team mom is comparable to MTV’s teen moms.

Your beauty defies your age like an ill mannered step child.

Your bad-assness is more hardcore than Obama with a pinky ring and a neck tattoo.

Your fixation with guns is similar to Gabby Giffords. She just can’t stop talking about them.

Your magic purse of goodies is only slightly more awesome than your other magic purse of goodies.

Your return to and excellence in academia is more remarkable than an uninfected Prince Albert.

Your capacity to love is only outmatched by a hoarder’s capacity to love flattened cats and “treasures.”

Your husband is more supportive than the Pope for all his priests with a “younger” taste.

You’re loved. Like teenagers love texting and driving so much, they will drive to the death for those messages. Like Timothy McVeigh loved the FBI so much, he set fireworks off in their honor. Like BP loved the Gulf so much that it penetrated that Gulf and then lubed it up. You’re loved. And your love will continue to stretch like the marks on an underprivileged obese child with a “thyroid problem.

Hearts,

Brad

What can we learn from these letters? That I'm a sick person for creating such similes? Nope. More like... fuck it. I couldn't even type that out. I'm seriously messed up.

Letters For My Coaches 3

Ben is married but I like to give him a hard time and say that he's gay. Why? Oh because it's hilarious. He can sit down and accomplish anything whereas I sit on Perez for an hour and then take a nap. 

Ben,

Your organization is more anal retentive than you are anal receptive.

Your jeans may be from Penny’s but your wife certainly wears them in this relationship.

Your masculinity is only outweighed by your femininity.

Your care and love are like the sex scene in Ghost. We have the clay but we need your guidance to create something beautiful… and to orgasm.

Your ability to make first years feel welcome is stronger than any Kool-aid.

Your listening skills are like that of a quadriplegic. When we talk to you, we know that you’re not going anywhere and we appreciate that.

Your ability to go the extra mile is like that of a true American. You know that you’ve won the war but you’ll bomb two Japanese cities just for good measure.

Your persistence is like that of the last person in line on a human centipede… I’ll leave it at that.

Your drive is like that of a chronic masturbator. It doesn’t matter where you are because you will always find a way to completion.

You’re loved. Like Mary loved her virginity so much, she lied about it. Like Abraham Lincoln loved plays so much, he lost his head. Like Dianna loved the paparazzi so much, she got a little too excited when she pulled over to say “hi” to them. You’re loved. And your love will continue to spread like a cocaine ridden girl’s legs at an independent music festival.

Hearts,

Brad

Letters For My Coaches 2

Alyssa is incredible. Girl has better style than everyone in Mankato combined. She's also very quick witted which is important to me in a friend. She also loves her cat.

Alyssa,

Your duo blocking is more shocking than a knifey dildo.

Your pop culture knowledge is only trumped by your Sperry’s

Your ties are borrowed more than prostitutes borrowed on Christmas.

Your hair indicates your sexuality more than the broken chromosome that made you that way.

Your wit is quicker than the length of time people cared about Darfur.

Your aura is as electrifying as fucking a Pikachu. It’s super effective!

Your personality is explosive… like the Challenger.

Your future is like the World Trade Center. Things might fall apart but a bigger, better World Trade Center will always be built in its place.

You’re loved. Like Ukraine loves carnies so much they blew up a reactor to create a whole generation of them. Like Jesus loved the world so much, he died and left. Like John F. Kennedy loved parades so much, he celebrated by taking three or four shots. You’re loved. And your love will carry on in our hearts like those little worms will in over 2.7 million puppies this year.

Hearts,

Brad

Letters For My Coaches 1

     So I was on the speech team but now I’m done and so are four of my coaches. They’re all grad students that work in the department and they invested a lot of work into me. I’m convinced that I normally talk like the “boom goes the dynamite” guy unless I have a coach beat the shit out of me. I’ve had the pleasure to get to know them all and so I wrote them really nice end of the year letters:) 


DISCLAIMER- These next few post are probably the most offensive I've ever written.


We'll start with Justin. Justin is stuck in the 90's but not like in a Portlandia way but in a gay *Nsync way. 

Justin,

Your crazy smile is crazy awesome.

Your shirts are only barely brighter than your soul.

Your talent is only preceded only by your flip flops.

Your soul patch burrows itself beneath your lip like your love burrows in our souls.

Your finely manicured nails represent your finely manicured thesis.

Your new job will be like bottoming: At first it hurts and you feel like you might die but after a while, it feels great.

Your organizational skills are like your hair: Each stiff piece meticulously locked in place and shiny.

Your work ethic is like a Chinese sweat shop worker. It doesn't feel like people appreciate your work but somewhere an Olympian is running across the finish line with the shoes you made for only 46 cents an hour.

You’re loved. Like Amelia loved the Pacific so much, she crashed and drowned in it. Like Jeffery Dahmer loved people so much, he ate them. Like, the tsunami loved Japan so much it gave it a big hug. You’re loved. And your love and skills and education will carry with us like HPV. The symptoms might go away but the virus will be with us forever.

Hearts,

Brad

Stressed Out

I don’t handle stress very well. I handle stress like I handle uggs and I say, “Why-hy-hyeee-uh.” It’s like everyone who’s wearing them is attached to the inside of a space ship with an alien about to explode out of their chest pleading, “Kill me… kill me.” And I say, “Okay.” That’s what my stress is like: Ugg wearing, ugly crying, alien occupied hos that I want to take a flamethrower to. Megan told me once that when life hands me lemons, I don’t make lemonade. I throw my lemons on the ground and step on them. Too many metaphors that don’t make sense? I say not enough!

First of all, my body changes when I get stressed out. I get like, a million gray hairs. Second of all, I make unhealthy decisions. When Stupid Head broke up with me I drank Ice Hole watched The Human Centipede by myself. Third of all, I make very rash choices.

When I was working at Disney World, I heard from my managers that Lady Gaga was in Disney World that she might be coming to the Rockin’ Roller Coaster. I nearly died. I begged my managers to put me at a position that I would see her. They almost didn’t because I was hyperventilating and they thought I might pass out in the tracks. I promised them that I wouldn’t and that I would totally behave but instead I called my managers every ten minutes asking them where she was.

Brenda: Coordinator Base, this is Brenda.

Brad: Hey, Brend-

Brenda: Brad, we’re working as hard as we can to make sure you are moved to a position to see her if and when she comes.

Brad: Okay, I know, it’s just that I love her so much, and I’venevermetherandthiswouldjustmeantheworldtome (gasp) andIpromiseIwon’tcry-

Brenda: Brad. We’ll take care of it. Stop calling me.

I think I only called five times after that. I spent all day freaking out, thinking what I was going to say to her. Would she like me? Would she be impressed with my crying skills? Or my self assumed ability to seize out upon viewing her? I bet both. My heart raced for over FOUR HOURS and then she didn’t even come. I literally freaked out all day and she couldn’t even ride my ride. So then I freaked out even more because she didn’t visit me. I blew off some steam that night and chased an armadillo named Henry. Literally, literally, the next day, the top headline on Google was how armadillos were spreading leprosy to people. So.

                Also, I tend to make things to control my anxiety but they often turn out terrible or are the biggest waste of time… like a blog. Or this picture!-

                So like, I think the main cause of why I get so upset sometimes is when something is out of my control. Like, when I lived at Disney, there were these girls who lived above us who we called the creatures because they stomped so loud. It was like Jumanji. Rhinos just paraded around constantly above us. Well, I had pink eye (which I think I also get from stress) and my roommate and I were fed up with the stampede so we went upstairs and this is how the conversation went-

                Brad: Hi, we have a roommate who’s culinary and he has to get up at five tomorrow. Can you guys try to walk lighter?

                Creature 1: Um, well, we’re not stomping around.

               

                Brad: Well, you are because we’re up here asking you to stop.

               

                Creature 2: You’re being really bitchy.

               

                Brad: OKAY! Well thanks for your time.

And then I shook her hand and she closed the door. The best part was that I wiped my hand all over my eye before we went upstairs. And then all over her door handle when she closed the door. That’s right. I implemented my own biological warfare. I call it the war on Fugs.

                And then I made this picture of me! -

The other day… I mean fourteen years ago, I was invited to someone’s birthday at this place called Gigglebees. Gigglebees is like the poor man’s Chucky Cheese. You could get tetanus on any corner but it didn’t matter because they had 25 cent ice cream cones! That’s probably why they went out of business… Anyway, I was , like, eight and I was really upset that I wasn’t getting any tickets out of game machines because everyone else was doing way better than me and I wanted a prize. This next part proves that I have always been the same person and that I have never changed. I walked up to the man at the counter with the prizes and I said in my sweetest, most confused voice, “Um, the machine with the light that spins and you have to hit it, yeah, um well I won and it didn’t give me my tickets… I don’t know it just didn’t.” I was a liar, liar, someone no one will hire… when they read my blog.

Here’s the thing. I really wanted this Buzz Lightyear pencil. It was the crazay kind where you take the lead out of the top and then push it into the bottom and newer sharper lead comes up out of the top! I needed it. I needed it. So lied and I got it. Welp, the next day when we were studying religion (because I went to a snobby, Catholic, rich kid school) we talked about stealing and lying and how it was NOT okay to do either.

I felt like Judas. I betrayed my Lord for the most awesome pencil of all time. I was racked with guilt all day and when I got home I decided to do something that seemed very appropriate at the time but in retrospect may have been a bit dramatic. The space between our garage and our house was filled with rocks and I dug a whole. I then smashed my Buzz Lightyear pencil into a million pieces while screaming and crying my eyes out. You know when Charlize Theron kills that guy in Monster? That’s what it was like.

And then I didn’t steal or lie for the rest of my life…

Another picture! I did this one when I realized I was I was still alone and I couldn't drive to Starbucks to make myself feel better... because I was drunk.

What can be learned from these tales of stress and drama? If you’re going to steal something, it should be better than a twenty cent pencil. Or don’t go to Catholic School. Either way.

#Twilight

            Okay so like a month or so ago, Josh and Tony and I went to Breaking Dawn. I don’t really remember it. Have you ever tried marshmallow vodka? It tastes like sugar plum fairies. You can literally hear them screaming as they slide down your throat to their death. Well we decided that we certainly weren’t going to see this god-awful movie sober. Then, I thought it would be a good idea to live tweet during the entire show. As it turns out fairies have mind erase powers so I didn’t remember that I had wrote any of this until the next day. But here it is. Each scene of Breaking Dawn summed up in 160 characters or less.

1.     Drunk live Tweeting Breaking Dawn. This is a porno starring Dawn, right? #Twilight

2.     Live tweet. The hunger games uses a lot of special effects for a movie about anorexia. #Twilight

3.     Live tweet. Edward has bears at his bachelor party? #Justsaying #Twilight

4.     Live tweet. Bella really had to pee but then she saw Edward and she was like, “It’s whatever.” #Twilight

5.     Live tweet. WHAT! The invalid from Grey’s Anatomy is in this movie! I guess she learned how to talk like a person… #Twilight

6.     Drunk whatever. Comparing biceps with Josh. #Gay #Twilight

7.     Live. White sheets were the worst idea ever. Jesus, Edward. #Twilight

8.     THAT’S ALL WE GET?! #Goddammit #Twilight

9.     LIVE. Is this a domestic abuse campaign? #Twilight

10. Magneto’s mother is in this movie? #Twilight?

11. Good mood food.

12. Bella has a razor. She’s so retro. #Twilight

13. Aww shit. #Twilight

14. HOLY SHIT

15. Oh it’s just a baby. Laaame

16. Ohmygod Bella wake up foR my fracking sake. The acting. It’s just too terrible.

17. Oh my God. Imprinting. So Deep.

18. Emmet is doing pretty good for being the retarded one. Oh my god. Retard is saved on my phone?

19. Throwback special effects from the first movie love it. #Twilight

20. I MADE IT THROUGH! I MADE IT THROUGH! #TWILIGHT

21. Live!!!! That was like a tenacious Survivor combined with Mormon propaganda combined with marshmellow vodka. BREAKING DAWN! THE BEST POR…

22. Jesus. The best porno ever. #Goddammit. …#Twilight

23. Ohmyfucking God. I have a final tomorrow. Twilight.

What can we learn from these tweets? BREAKING DAWN PART TWO: 2012 APOCALYPSE. It’s gonna be great.