Crackle!
Pop!
Cereal in the sky and a milky drizzle of shimmer over the neighbours roof.
Still, it can't beat the display over Lake Disney.
Well, it could, if they had a Wicker Mickey. Filled with Pushy Mothers who ram their riotous brood into the faces of Disney Personages so no-one else can get a photo, and fat as fuck foreigners forcing through the queue due to their severe lack of manners, and inability to form an orderly line.
Not to mention them Gormsters who, when you are taking a photo, decide at that moment that they have to pass in front of you so all you get is a big fat gormsters head. Or when you're watching a parade, with the whole of an empty street to choose from, they simply have to stand right in front of you. And then pop their brat onto their shoulders so you can't see a damn thing.
And reserving all the breakfast tables, and not using them. Or if they do, simply stuff their big fat monky faces without taking in the view. Apart from the view of their plate, filled with a mountain of mystery meat and croissants.
And just why would a monasterial convention for mystical enlightenment be held in Disneyland? It may indeed be an ideal place to let your hair down, but it's a bit hard to let your hair down if you're a baldy buddhist.
I've heard of the Tao of Pooh, but the great Bodhisattva Kuan-Yin doing the Pirates Of The Carribean ride on the offchance of perving over a Jack Sparrow lookylikey?
Om mani padme hum? More like...
Yo! Ho!*
Yo! Ho!
A pirates life for me!
* A POPULAR GREETING BY BLACK GANSTAS TO THEIR BITCHES, OR SO I'M LED TO BELIEVE...
