Letters To Companies I Hate - Day 4

Dear Disney,

Throughout my entire childhood your gifted team of professional animators and producers provided me endless hours of mind numbing entertainment. It seemed like every year or two a new Disney Classic was released on the big screen to twist and deform my perceptions of life and the reality of love. I patiently awaited the day when I could court a gorgeous redhead with a seashell bra, or a beautiful, fair-skinned brunette with an obsession for short hairy men. Alas, that day never came.

Now, here I sit in my dorm room, a 24-year-old college student without a magic carpet, a band of best friends who dress up in animal skin pajamas, fight pirates and fly around with a sexy fairy, or a talking pet. I truly don’t think you understand the disappointment that I have experienced at your hand.

My disappointment is not limited, however, to a lack of fulfilled childhood dreams. The dissatisfaction I experienced only mounted as I witnessed the garbage that your sequel department released. Whoever is in charge of your sequel department should be burned in effigy, hanged, shot, burned again, kicked in the weiner, and then fed to a starving shiver of sharks.

The 40+ direct-to-video pieces of crap are nothing but a shameless ploy to extract and scam as much coin from precious 5-year-old girls who hope to become princesses and pre-pubescent 11 year old boys who hope to marry one. I mean, in The Little Mermaid II, Return to the Sea, you didn’t even stick with the original movie plot for heaven sakes! YOU DE-HUMANIZED HER! This poor half fish, half girl has undergone more species changes than Carrot Top!

I mean, you know you have reached a new low when you are exploiting a bear named Pooh.

Rather than beating a dead horse, why not just be creative again and make a new, original movie with semi-normal characters so that you can destroy an entire new generation’s belief by telling them that true love is easy, all fat girls are evil, all step-moms are evil, and that people randomly break into synchronized song and dance for no apparent reason when you walk down the street? Wait, that would require effort. And who needs effort when effortless allows you to wipe your butt with $100 bills?

Disney: “Where Dreams Come True”… and then are shamelessly obliterated by the painfully crushing blow of reality smacking you in the face.

Disney, you have ruined my life.

-Bags

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