#The greatest good for the greatest number

[fictionadventurer]

Why did no one tell me about Cats Don't Dance? I had to hear it mentioned in an off-hand line in a Youtube video as an example of a good movie that flopped because it was screwed over by the studio, then I had to seek it out for myself, and only then find out:

It was the first non-Disney movie to win the Annie Award for Best Picture (it beat out Hercules).

It's an animated tribute to 1930s movie musicals done in the 1990s, which gives it a very Animaniacs vibe.

It has an insanely energetic and stretchy animation style.

It gives us the story of a starry-eyed song-and-dance man (who happens to be a talking cat) who leaves small-town Indiana hoping to make it big in Hollywood, only to find that talking animals don't get any starring roles. And then of course he meets a motley crew of eccentric animal actors who've had to content themselves with stereotyped bit parts and inspire them to try for better.

It has a romance where the cynical girl who had her dreams crushed gets inspired by the innocent, wide-eyed idealist to chase after hope again. (Which happens to be one of my special favorite kind of romances).

It's directed by a guy who'd go on to direct The Emperor's New Groove.

It's got songs by Randy Newman.

Scott Bakula voices the lead (and has a surprisingly decent singing voice).

Don Knotts plays a superstitious turtle.

There is a piano-playing elephant voiced by John Rhys-Davies.

The actress who voiced Cruella de Ville came out of retirement to voice a chain-smoking elderly fish (who might be my favorite side character).

Gene Kelly did the choreography (and it was the last project he worked on before his death).

The villain is an utterly insane Shirley-Temple-type child star who gets some of the most over-the-top animation I've ever seen.

She has a giant monstrous butler--like, it is absurd how giant this guy is.

And there are wild setpieces and big musical numbers and a scene with a clever use of color to show inner emotions.

It's not like the greatest movie ever made or anything, but it's a solid B-tier story that's a lot of fun and happens to perfectly fit my taste in so many ways, so I'm upset no one bothered to alert me to its existence.

[dude-ew-gross]

Happy Birthday, Victor

2k words and some change

@void-my-warranty @simplynerdilicious-blog

Thanks for the brainrot. Had a lot of fun writing this. I'm going out for a gyro now.

It was nice to do regular girlfriend things with Victor. It was easy. All you had to do was be there, and what a relief it was not to walk on eggshells for once. The history of your relationships was a list of long, sordid affairs. A few flings here and there that never went beyond the bedroom paired with one miserable marriage and a divorce under your belt, you never thought that you would be where you were now, and where you are now is using your boyfriend as a pillow while he uses you as a blanket. An equal trade, laissez-faire and all that jargon.

You had to admit it was pretty damn nice to have someone around who matches your love of physical affection. The fact that he just so happened to be a walking furnace was merely a coincidental bonus, and if you were being completely honest, cuddling into him was probably your number one source of therapy. Victor never once rejected your advances, much less affection, gladly opening up his enormous arms and adjusting himself to make room for you in his lap to your incoming attack.

There you are, late in the morning on a random sunny Tuesday, so late in fact that most people would be taking their lunch break right now, you are now gleefully loving Victor up on the living room couch, nuzzling into his neck the way he does to you, snuggling into your boyfriend with all your might. You feel him plant a kiss on the top of your head as he hugs you to him just tight enough.

Laying your head on his shirtless chest, you listen to his heart pump his blood through his body with every beat and relax into him with each breath he takes with those strong lungs. You can't help but feel quite pleased when it doesn't take long for him to begin, for lack of a better word, purring. That familiar rumbling starts up and the solid torso underneath you begins to vibrate as he runs a large hand up and down the length of your back, the greatest indicator of “Hell Yeah” there ever was.

“There's that motor,” you giggle, burying your face into a furry pec as if trying to sink into the sensation. His chest hair scratches your face wonderfully. You inhale his scent, taking a deep breath of him and letting it out long and slow. For a moment you two lay there, basking in the warm compassionate touch of a lover. You know you could fall asleep on him right now but something snaps you awake just enough to ask a question that's been drifting in and out of the forefront of your cortex.

“Victor,” you begin. “How old are you?”

“Old.” He answers matter-of-factly. You take it that he didn't take offense to the question on account he didn't immediately stop purring, a good sign.

You continue. “How old?”

He's silent for a moment as he considers what to say. You knew he'd been around the sun a few times more than the average person and had been trying to guess his age for a while but didn't know how to bring it up until now.

“I was a grown man when I saw a light bulb for the first time,” he says.

The absurdity of that statement makes you lift your head up to quirk an eyebrow at him. He's stretched out beneath you, one arm wrapped around you, the other he's using to rest his head. The muscles of the arm that cradles his neck are handsomely flexed under his skin but you are not paying attention to that. He looks completely relaxed at the moment, unbothered. His eyes remain closed and his face doesn't change when the only response you can provide is a blunt “What?” because while you know he's old, there is absolutely no way he's that... old.

Victor makes an affirmative noise, refusing to elaborate any further. Well, if the motor underneath you is still going, that's a good indicator as any that it'd be ok to ask a few more questions. You think for a little bit, attempting to do the math but since the official year of whenever the lightbulb became patented then commercially available escapes you at the moment so instead you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“So you're older than indoor plumbing?”

This makes him chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Cars?”

He nods. “Yep.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Did you ever have to tell time by looking at a sundial?”

His immediate response was to laugh. “Once or twice,” he grins, finding your questions amusing. His fangs are on full display. “Used to get around by horse, if you could afford one. I remember riding in the back of a sled pulled by a single mule led by my father. My mother rode next to him with a shotgun,” he begins to fiddle with a strand of your hair, finding a small knot to loosely work his fingers through. “My brother was next to me. Suddenly, he's pointing up at something in the trees.”

The tangle is smoothed out and he resumes brushing his fingers through your hair with just a little bit of claw, careful not to give you an accidental trim.

“I look up, and there's this barn owl staring down at us. Takes off and flies above us without a sound.”

You blink at him. That was a core memory of his, a little piece of something long ago. Before he figured out he was a mutant, before he and his brother were locked away in that cellar. The paradox in the shape of a man that is Victor Creed who used candlelight and horses as a main resource during most of his formative years, yet he looks like some guy around your age, in the prime of life forever stuck at his physical peak until time itself remembers that he has to age, but that probably won't happen for quite some time. He's older than social security, older than the wars that shaped this continent (probably participated in a few from what you could gather) and was probably older than dirt, and you make an attempt to bite that comment back because he may not find that funny as you, but you say it anyway.

“Heh,” he snorts. “Good way of putting it.”

He probably doesn't even have an official birth certificate if he's as old as you think he is, and he's telling you all this as if his entire backstory is nothing more than just idle chit-chat. You think of how many centuries turned over for him to get here. He sees your expression.

“C'mon, let me hear it,” he goads, a soft smile gracing his face.

You adjust yourself a little to lace your fingers together and tuck your hands under your chin and look him straight in the eye and with all seriousness, you ask “When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?”

This makes him pause. The prolonged silence carries on a bit too long for your liking as his brow furrows, as if he never really considered his birthday before, much less celebrated it. His eyes drift away from yours and his eyebrows knit together even tighter as he takes a moment to think about the last time someone thought about his birthday, and that makes your heart ache.

Finally, he opens his mouth. “A while.” He lifts the hand that was in your hair and brings it to his face to scratch his scruffy chin. “Pretty sure the year started with “eighteen.””

You blink. “You're shittin’ me.”

The look he gives you has no indication that he's being facetious in the slightest. He stops scratching his chin and returns to using you as an armrest, draping the long limb around your upper back. His hand comes to rest on your upper arm, running his thumb back and forth on the flesh of your delt.

“Oh my god,” you begin, laying your head back down on his chest. You listen to his heart for three beats. “You really are older than dirt.”

He laughs at this, and you lift up and down with each laugh. It's nice to hear, it's deep and warm, and you can't help but laugh with him.

It takes a while to calm down. “Do you have any idea when it is?” you ask when you finally regain control of your breathing. He hums and you feel his arm constrict you ever so slightly as he squeezes you to him. His other arm comes out from under his head to completely cage you in, not that you mind. You feel him press his lips to your hairline as he takes a deep breath in, chest expanding with the volume of air he could breathe in, then slowly exhales.

“Sometime in the fall,” he finally says. “I don't remember the date.”

You “hmm” at this. “We're totally celebrating your birthday as soon as I see a leaf turn yellow.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nostrils and you feel his chest shudder with a silent laugh and he relaxes underneath you. Time passes and you end up spending the rest of the morning on the sofa with your legs tangled together. You're pretty sure you fall asleep on him once or twice or more, but he doesn't mind. You're pretty sure he falls asleep, too, and you're both content to let the world pass by as you nap together on a sunny weekday afternoon.

….

Months pass, and you decided you weren't kidding when you said you were celebrating his birthday. Seasons change, summer gives way to Autumn, the days are getting shorter and cooler, trees turned from the supple verdant green to the brilliant hues of Fall. Your backyard is a blended masterpiece of reds, oranges, yellows, and on a particularly chilly October day Victor decides to take your dog on a long walk on the trails in the woods behind your home.

You take advantage of his absence, preheating the oven and bust out the ingredients needed for a cake recipe you found in one of your mother's old cookbooks that you think Victor would like. You remember to separate the wet ingredients from the dry until you're ready to combine the two parts in one large bowl. You pour the batter into two equal size round pans, eyeballing the level to make sure they are even, then place them in the hot oven to bake.

You set a timer on your phone and place a kettle to boil on the stove for tea. Soon enough, the kettle is whistling and you pour the boiling water into your favorite mug with your favorite tea. You pocket your device and decide to pass the remaining time by spending it outside, parked in the big rocking chair with a steaming mug of tea keeping your hands warm and a small blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

It's a perfect Autumn day. The sky is overcast, the wind brings a chilly breeze, and the wonderful colors of the trees as the leaves lose their chlorophyll and fall to the ground has you beaming. You sip your tea and think about the present you didn't get your boyfriend. That's been bugging you for a while; what do you get a man who can buy everything in the world and still have spare change? Oh well, you hope the cake and the card you made are enough.

You're still outside and Victor has yet to return when the timer goes off in your pocket. You head back inside, locate your oven mitts, and carefully slide the rack out of the oven and transfer the pans onto a cooling rack. You poke the cake with a toothpick to check that it has baked all the way through and can't help but pump your fist in victory when it comes out clean. You keep the oven on to toast the coconut flakes you bought specifically for this and set to work making the frosting. The kitchen is smelling nice and toasty as you run a knife along the sides of the cakes, separating the layers from their pans. Both layers come out clean when you flip them over (another victory). You apply a liberal coat of frosting to the cooled layers and stack them, then add the toasted coconut to the sides and top.

You take a step back to appreciate your work, pride swelling your chest. You grab the pack of candles you bought specifically for the occasion and stick one right in the center of the cake and retrieve the card you made, placing the envelope right next to the cake. Just in the nick of time, too, because right on cue, the back door opens and Victor returns with your dog. Once inside, he immediately turns his head in your direction to see you standing behind the kitchen island with a freshly baked cake and an envelope, looking expectantly at him. Both eyebrows are raised in pleasant surprise.

You greet him with a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoes, stooping to unleash the dog. “What's this?”

You shrug. “I've decided it's your birthday. Happy Birthday!”

The leash comes off with a click and your dog rushes to greet you, nails clacking on the kitchen floor, tail wagging as he gives your hand excited kisses. You kneel to give him a few scratches and ask how the walk was, and your dog takes this opportunity to lick your face.

Victor huffs. “Little guy decided to take a swim, that's why we were gone so long.” He gives your dog an accusatory look, to which is blissfully ignored as the accused attacks your face with wet kisses. Your dog's fur is completely dry. You stand to get away from the barrage and your dog trots away to go lay on his bed.

You hand the homemade card to Victor. He considers it for a moment before opening it to read the little message you scrawled out for him in what you tried not to look like your regular chicken-scratch. While he's distracted you get two little plates out from the cabinet and the necessary silverware out from the drawer. He doesn't look up until he hears the flick of the lighter you're using to light the single candle on the cake. You return the lighter to your pocket.

You take a deep breath in. “Ha-”

“Don't.” Victor stops you from subjecting him to the mortifying experience of being serenaded with your acapella rendition of “Happy Birthday”. You're thankful for that.

You giggle and he smiles, and he's looking at you with those peculiar eyes of his with so much warmth and love you feel like you could fly.

“Alright,” you say with a grin. “Blow out the candle and make a wish, birthday boy.”

With a roll of his eyes he does as he's told. His lips form an “o” as he lets out a puff of air, immediately snuffing the candle out. A small plume of smoke rolls up to the ceiling and you can't help but clap in delight.

“Yay! Don't tell me what you wished for, it won't come true if you do.” You warn. You cut the cake and serve him a large slice, then you cut yourself a slice and you both decide to take this into the living room. The first bite he takes has him making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. That's the only criticism you receive because he's silent as he eats the rest of his slice. The cake is supple and moist and the frosting melts on your tongue as the rich flavors of vanilla and coconut play together on your palette. You're barely halfway through your portion when he gets up and goes back to the kitchen, returning with another slice of cake.

“This is really good,” he tells you, gesturing with his fork. He takes another bite and voices his delight, making you smile as you take another bite. Excellent. He could eat the entire cake and you would not feel bad about it. It's his cake, he deserves to eat it, too.

When you're both finished he grabs your plate and you're about to protest that people don't wash dishes on their birthday when he sets them aside and stacks them on the coffee table. He turns to you and suddenly you find yourself wrapped up in a strong hug and a sweet tasting kiss is planted on your lips as he pulls you onto his lap. “Thank you,” he whispers, kissing you again.

It's not quite the birthday bash you think he deserves, but you did what you could, and he's enjoying himself and that's all that matters. You cup his face with both hands and kiss him back.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you tell him in between kisses.

[dav-suburbiia]

drdt ch2 ep14 spoilers

compiling some of my thoughts

god . fuck . the way Teruko’s “let go of me” was so soft and apprehensive as if she didn’t want to scare Eden further than she already was . I’M SICKKKK/pos

I still love Hu but yeah her insistence got a little much in this episode . thank you for everything girl but please . please take a break . that desperate smile as she begged Nico to let her defend them… she has some harrowing issues she needs to work out. I can’t wait to learn more!

david chiem secures his number one placement at the “top ten worst bisexuals” list /aff. god. I’m actually insane about him and Teruko’s foils it is everything to me. he wants Teruko to give into her nature so he can use her as a method to prove his worldview right- that every person is born with their permanent “nature” in their blood, and that it’s pointless trying to change that. he wants her to do what she’s always done, because that’s how he gets the advantage on her. that’s how he gets his satisfaction, when there’s nothing left to feasibly criticize about his words because he knows for sure he’s right. all he wants is for him, the man born to lie, to be proven without a shadow of a doubt that he is CORRECT.

but Teruko is not giving him that fulfillment. she knows he has a point, she knows he’s using her word against her, she is visibly affected by this “easy choice” he’s dangling in front of her. yet she doesn’t take his bait. she chooses to make room for a little bit of trust. not just to spite David, but also to make the trial more organized and efficient. she is working to fix her fatal mistake from earlier in the trial. and it’s fucking awesome.

Teruko as a character is just so engaging. she wants to find excuses for not trusting others, yet at the same time she also protects herself with excuses TOWARDS trusting others.

“I’m repaying your favor, and nothing else. That’s why I’ll trust you, just this once.”

she is so conflicted about what she wants. about what she THINKS she wants versus what is BEST. she wants to do the right thing, but she wants to be safe. I hope to see that grow and blossom as DRDT continues, because she is truly one of, if not, THE greatest fangan protagonist I know of

gah, and here comes the Ace culprit accusation. it may not be Huover after all… but, we’ll see where this goes. I think they’ll bring up Ace’s gloves (for the rope burn) and his strength (for getting the rope over the ceiling, which I assume was done with the starch ball…? he did have a chance to get the clothes, because he was a part of the redesign gang) when talking about his possibility as a culprit. either way, I look forward to what happens next!

good shit, DRDTDev. I’m loving everything about this. thank you for all you do . 🙏

[nuttersincorporated]

The Narrator wanted to found Omelas and the Contrarian would choose to walk away

There is a short story by Ursula K. Le Guin called ‘The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas’. You can read it here or listen to it here.

The basic summery is that Omelas is a wonderful city. People are happy, kind and intelligent. The arts and science are celebrated and people can pursue their passions. There are no kings, police or army because they aren’t needed.

However, for all this to work, one child is locked in a basement. They are frightened, abused and underfed. Everyone knows that the child is there and they all accept it. The child must suffer so that everyone else can be happy.

If the child leaves the basement or is ever shown any kindness at all, then the good fortune and happiness of everyone in Omelas ends. Omelas would become like any other city. Instead of one child suffering and everyone else being happy, most of the population would suffer so that – like in the real world – 1% of people could have their every whim satisfied.

Everyone in Omelas knows that the child is there. A lot of them go to see the child but even those that don’t know the child suffers for them to be happy.

Sometimes, someone in Omelas will go quiet for a few days before they leave Omelas forever. Where they go to no one knows, it is a place even less imaginable than Omelas.

Anyway, the point of all this is that the Narrator is trying to turn the universe into Omelas. One person has to suffer so that everyone else can be happy. Unlike the child in the original story, the Princess wouldn’t even have to suffer for very long. She would die and then everyone else would be saved.

I think the Contrarian would be one of the people that walk away from Omelas. He thinks everything is all fun and games and enjoys annoy people. However, the moment he realises that his actions have actual consequences and that the Princess is being hurt by them, he stops and wants to help.

I think, if he was in Omelas, since he couldn’t save the child, he would choose to leave rather than be part of the reason the child has to suffer. For the same reason, if he had to slay the Princess to ensure everyone else’s happiness or save her a damn everyone else, I think he’d choose to leave. Even if he can’t save her, he wouldn’t want to be one of the people she had to suffer for.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[bitch-exe]

the new the 1975 album is already altering my body’s chemistry. i have listened to about you on repeat for half an hour. i am not who i was when i woke up. matty healy i want to kiss you and also hit you with my car.

[icklewolfiekins]

songs from musicals that are the same but also one of them is a good person and one of them is my personal enemy something something anyway it’s Hard to Be the Bard from Something Rotten and Moving Too Fast from The Last Five Years have such similar energy??

[twistedtummies2]

Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes - Number 20

Welcome to A Gathering of the Greatest Gumshoes! During this month-long event, I’ll be counting my Top 31 Favorite Fictional Detectives, from movies, television, literature, video games, and more! Today, the countdown enters the Top 20!

SLEUTH-OF-THE-DAY’S QUOTE: “Kill me if you can!”

Number 20 is…L, from Death Note.

So far, all of the detectives on this list have been protagonist figures. Not all of them have been the MAIN protagonists (although the grand majority have been), but the focus in every situation up till now has been on the detectives trying to solve the cases. This, of course, is not always the case: not every protagonist is a hero, not every antagonist is a villain, and there are two sides to every story. While antagonistic detectives are somewhat rare, they do exist, and in various forms. Most I didn’t feel deserved placement on this countdown, however, due to one or more of the rules I established at the start. This character, however, is an exception.

“Death Note” is a highly-acclaimed anime and manga franchise, which sort of toes the line between crime/mystery drama and supernatural horror. The plot focuses on a Villain Protagonist: Light Yagami, a.k.a. Kira. Light is a precocious young man with a lot of high ideals: he sees the world as a corrupt place, and wishes there was a way to right the wrongs and bring true justice to the people. This desire gets twisted and warped when he comes into possession of the titular Death Note: a notebook with a very dark and dangerous magical ability. Whenever someone’s name is written in the Death Note…they die. And the person who writes the name down can even choose how and when they die, if they so wish. Light realizes the book has the power to grant him the justice he craves so much; consumed by the Death Note’s power, he goes mad and becomes the serial killer “Kira,” using its power to destroy anybody he deems unfit of living in the world he wants to create…or just anybody who gets in his way.

Light does not go unchallenged in the series, and this is where our contender for today comes into play: a mysterious private investigator known simply as “L.” This young fellow is a foil to Light, in a lot of ways: Light is seemingly normal, well-spoken, clean-cut, and conventionally attractive. L, in contrast, is a reclusive little hobgoblin obsessed with computers and candy. What both share is the fact they are each geniuses, both wiser and more clever than their youthful years would indicate. L becomes determined to solve the case of Kira, and it’s his actions and choices that create much of the conflict Light must face on his self-righteous and deadly quest.

Much of the show revolves around the concept of a single word I’ve used here already: “justice.” All of the major characters have their own philosophies and outlooks on what “true justice” really is. Light believes justice is as simple as punishing the guilty; as he is corrupted by the power the Death Note brings to him, he comes to think that the only way one can achieve true justice is to eliminate all of one’s enemies, so that those you care about can be rewarded and saved. L believes much the same, but he sees it from a different point of view: he believes Kira should be punished for his crimes, because that is what “true justice” is, regardless of his motivations. However, L is not a pure and simple hero in this story; he does things that are legally and ethically questionable in his pursuit of putting Kira behind bars. His ideal of justice is set up by the precedent that murder is wrong, and therefore catching murderers is just; how one actually goes about doing that is not something he really cares about on the whole.

Another thing that makes L interesting is his relationship with Light: while the two are dead serious about destroying one another, each comes to see the other as probably the closest thing either has ever had to a real, true friend. Indeed, there are, one could argue, subtle implications of romance between the pair. This makes what happens to L later in the manga and the anime even more tragic, because – SPOILER ALERT – in both, L does not survive the entire series. However, even after he dies, he’s far from done with Light Yagami, as things L did before his destruction ultimately do lead to Kira’s downfall. In the words of a different story, “Neither can live while the other survives.” Their twin paths ultimately result in mutual destruction, which is wonderfully poetic. I would argue the musical of Death Note (yes, there IS a musical, and it’s actually pretty good) does this even better than either the anime OR the manga…but that’s another story for another time.

Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 19!

CLUE: “Everyone has thought about killing someone, one way or another.”

[jakeperalta]

first kanye surprise dropped his album for ysuft release week and pushed maisie to #2 and now this time she might only get #2 again because of elton john's greatest hits album....... can these men please get out of the way!!!!

[cowboy-robooty]

one of the biggest mistakes of my life was not watching jojo rabbit in theatres swear to god... one of my top 5 movies

[meiloorunsmoothie]

I am very invested in your Finding Neverland journey. This seems like a reasonable time to bring your attention to:

https://www.tumblr.com/tofangirlonly/710437827861725184/so-future-me-approximately-97-years?source=share

😊

i am equally invested, and i haven't even watched it yet XD. i've been staring at this copy of peter pan that's on my bookshelf for the past month, and it just feels like it's time ✨

believe it or not, i actually just saw that post today! (when the jj tumblr content is low, you take a dive through the archives to the good old days 💀). why do i feel like i'll probably join you and @wellmanneredthief in this sentiment...

[mariana-oconnor]

Playing Baldur's Gate 3 and being on Tumblr when you're not into vampires is kind of... limiting.

Also I'm playing very slowly, so trying to avoid spoilers limits things as well. But not as much as the vampire thing.

This is what I get for hanging out on the vampire-fucking website I guess...

Feel obligated to add that I am not upset about this. You go, you funky little vampire fuckers, you! Just an observation that fandom is skewed in a very definite direction.

[unityrain24]

btw i fucking hate complimentary colours.* no it is not ""science"" or ""colour psychology"" that they compliment and look good together, it is not a """fact"""! No!! They Look Horrific Together Actually! Like they are actually anti-complimentary, like the worst possible colours you could put together!! "complementary colours" my ass they should be called "warning never pair together colours"!!!

[thestarfishghost]

Yeah. Again.

[bumpscosity]

too scared to go off anon but we are mutuals and i love seeing your posts about the disney rides and such. its like peeking in a window to something i know nothing about but enjoy seeing on my dash regardless

HAI MYSTERY MUTUAL!! glad ya like it! disney parks are a hyperfixation so it's always fun to post about for me :)

[judasisgayriot]

FOB - Where Did The Party Go / Tinchy Stryder featuring N Dubz - Number 1