Saturday, November 20, 2010

I Droved!

This is long overdue, but I figured, "Hey!  There's still those really freaky pictures in your phone.  Put 'em up already and get 'em out!."

I started a new job a couple of months ago and one of the prerequisites was to drive 4 hours northwest to another location to receive training.  Destination: Clearwater.  Crap.  You mean I have to DRIVE outside of my comfort zone?  I'm pretty sure the anxiety kicked in a month before the trip.  I know there's a name for that disorder, but although I can't remember it and I don't feel like spending too much time trying to Google it, I did find this which would've come in useful at the time, thanks a lot.

Okay, so after a lot of research (including a Google Map and 2 GPS units), my decided route would be I-75 through Alligator Alley all the way up, then I-275 the rest of the way.
The drive went pretty well, I liked the Alley despite the boringness of it all - When you have a fear of driving, boring is good.  I had a bunch of CDs so I was prepared for the 4-hours and I knew I wasn't stopping for anything.

I made it to I-275 and noticed that it was leading me through the Gulf.  Neat!  I looked forward and noticed that way, way down was this really high bridge.  "Good thing I'm not driving on that," I thought to myself.  So, I did the smart and safe thing and proceeded to attempt taking a picture of it.

Note: I kept the picture the original size for effect.  What is THAT?!

So I continued the stretch of road wedged in between the no-doubt shark-infested waters of the Gulf and took another picture as I approached.

Dang, that's high.  And oh my God, it's a part of the road. 
So yeah, I drove over the gigantic bridge, scary scary, and after a few almost misturns (is that a word?) and minor freakouts, I made it to my destination.

The point though, is this freakin' bridge.  I learned that it's the famous Skyway Bridge and it has a lot going on.  I met one of the District Managers that works over where my training was and he said, "Did you notice all of the call boxes at the top of the bridge?"  I sure did.  "Yeah, I would be freaked out if I broke down up there, so it's smart that they put them there."  He corrected me.  "No, those are for the people who want to jump off.  If they pick up the phone, the authorities try and talk them off."  He was serious!

When I got home from my trip, I did more research on it and I also learned that the bridge had collapsed in 1980, so that made me feel awesome.  In all, it's just an interesting bridge and I enjoyed the experience.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Hell House Tours

Where's Your Final Destination?
Hell House Tour
Tickets $5 Per Person
October 30 & 31
Tours 7PM-10PM
Cooper City Church of God

I don't like religion at all and this is absolutely absurd. What are they gonna do, re-enact Dante's Inferno? Get lost.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Ryan Buell Breaks My Heart

This is a blogging emergency.  Ryan Buell, my own personal prince for over 3 years when his stupid show debuted on A&E, has revealed in his new book that he's bisexual.  My mother insists he looks like Isaac from "Children of the Corn" (1984 edition), ergo he must be something of the devil, and this is her confirmation.

Disclaimer: We're not very religious people, and she does not really think that gays/lesbians are of the devil. Thank you.

Now, I know being bisexual he still likes girls, but what I'm afraid of is, a) he was missing something from women/men that he went looking for in the opposite. I say "women/men" because who knows if he was attracted to women before men or vice versa, b) if he's only saying "bisexual" to make it more socially accepted, when really he's gay.  Also that would make me a really sad panda, and c) if in the future he'll choose to be with men. 

Granted, I shouldn't really care regardless because we'll never be together (thank you, cruel universe), but I seriously didn't see this coming at all and so, let us mourn. 

Monday, August 23, 2010

Death to TMJ Disorder

At this moment, my jaw feels like someone took a mini ice cream scooper, removed my lower mandible from the rest of my face, scraped the joint out leaving ragged, unprotected edges, and then reattached my mandible leaving bone rubbing against bone.

Hello, Vicodin. 

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Adventures of A&A: Here Fishy, Fishy

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."

Alicia: i've been having a lot of dreams with joe in them. makes me miss him, but i don't even know how to get in touch with him
Allie: i'm not going to lie, i thought you meant your fish
Alicia: lmao

well, in your defense, the fish was named after this guy

all 4 of em

(Note: Joe I, II, III, IV, were all Beta fish I've had. Joe IV lived over 2 years and passed a couple of months ago. Allie thought I might've been suggesting finding a way to speak to my deceased fish.)

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

"Captured: America in Color from 1939-1943"

Please check out this link.  These are pictures taken after the Depression in COLOR. Normally, when I look at black and white pictures of the past, it seems like a different world - almost easy and amazing! I find myself often saying, "I wish I lived during that time period." After looking at these, although different, it seems almost relatable - doesn't seem that different in color. Makes ya think.

Captured: America in Color from 1939-1943

Monday, August 9, 2010

Weepy McWeeperson

Feel like crying like a baby?  Check out this comp of surprise homecomings.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Movie Review: Inception

( via )

No worries, I won't spoil anything.  I know there are like, 3 people out there who haven't seen it, yet. 

So, yeah.  Inception was getting good reviews from the get-go, made a ridiculous amount of money (over $100 million and it's only been out for 2 weeks) and is still in the #1 spot.  

Plot:  Go into dreams and extract information, blah blah, twist, surprise.  Google it.

I was so excited to see this because of my own fascination with dreams and what they mean and why we have them and, and, and...
Now keep in mind, this film is 2.5 hours long.  For the first maybe 1.5 hours I'm thinking to myself, "Yeah, this is good, but what's the big deal?"  Leo's hot, even Joseph Gordon Levitt --whom I used to find kind of annoying -- was pretty nice to look at.  Maybe it's because he doesn't talk much, but I digress. 
The last hour or so of the film I started to get more excited.  The ending blew me away.

Why I Liked Loved it:  They incorporated actual ideals about dreams that we believe.  The fact that dreams typically last minutes or seconds, but seem a lot longer when you dream them.  The fact that dreams make more sense when you're asleep and when you wake up and try to explain them you sound like a psycho.  This whole idea of a "kick" where when you feel like you're falling you wake up.  I loved all of that.

Ah, yes.  Inception.  See it.  Call me, I'll probably go again.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Allah is our Protector

I've seen this van a few times driving locally.  I believe in freedom of speech, and more importantly, I'm pretty much agnostic so I don't care who you/what believe in, but what I'm not sure if I quite understand is this (look closely):

Notice it?  Well, yes, the obvious and maybe disturbing "ALLAH IS OUR PROTECTOR" sticker, but moreover, the middle sticker above it is a USMC sticker.  Now, I get America stands for tolerance and acceptance of everyone's personal beliefs, but at this time, is it not ironic?  Maybe I've got it all wrong, but we're fighting a war on terrorism - Al Qaeda's main focus (if I have it correctly) to be rid of anything that's non-Islamic. 

It could just be me, but at the same time, this person is driving around hickville and if I'm asking questions about it then I'm surprised this car is still in one piece.

Beach Day (Again)


Having a blank schedule sometimes has it's advantages.  A friend was in town and we made some spur-of-the-moment plans to go to the beach and lunch and take it from there.  We were never really close as she's a bit younger, and we've never really hung out that much aside from a meal here or there.  
Every time we get together, though, I learn something new about her.  She's full of so many experiences in her short lifetime and I'm amazed at some of the stories she tells.  She's been through so much, both good and bad and it amazes me at how she's turned out.  For me, the best type of friendships I have are the kind where If I were to turn off all senses I still wouldn't have to worry about anything because the person I'm with would make sure I'm okay and take care of me.  She's one of those people.


Tuesday, July 27, 2010

PMS Rant Session: Volume 1

My blog, I can rant if I want to, and today, we're going to touch back on the subject of irony.

In short, I'm actually exerting the effort to get to know someone. I keep in touch, I ask to make plans - whatever time works for them is good for me. I listen to them ramble on about stuff I don't know about and I can hardly get a word in edgewise. Enough about me, anyway, right?
Scenario: Sports bar, 2 for 1 drinks.
Conversation: Dating.
After some talk back and forth about the subject, he said something about my coming out with him for a drink. He said something about it being a good idea. Yeah, a good idea I had, just like the other two times we hung out. I boldly told him how it's usually me initiating everything. I think I even went so far as to tell him that I'm not doing it anymore. He obviously has no idea about my track record in dating. I never put forth effort, at least not for long. 
Not 5 minutes later, did he tell me how his sister told him to date as much as possible, so that's what he's trying to do - even though not all of the dates ever go anywhere. Apparently my expression and body language immediately changed because he asked me what was on my mind and what he said wrong.
Nothing! You said/did nothing wrong, but now I know that I shouldn't be putting forth that much effort when I'm obviously not getting it in return. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I don't date. This is most likely to be continued.

In other news, why bother being the good friend when even those who do wrong get praised? It almost makes my friendship feel discounted. Think of a 10 year old doing exactly what you tell them not to because they know they'll get your attention when they do it. I almost want to be a douche just to make them realize how good they had it. What a downer!


Period, commence. 

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

"I feel like an 'ant marching.' We're all like ants marching right now."

Ah, yes.  No fancy blog openings, no build-up.  Point blank: I was treated to my first ever Dave Matthews Band concert experience last night and it was just as amazing as I had anticipated.

My best friend makes things happen for me.  Now, with her most recent (and best) boyfriend, together they make even more things happen for me.  This is obviously one of those things.  Dave's music is truly spectacular and works of art - each piece.  The key changes, the lyrics: He always has a story to tell and people listen.  Those who don't listen only don't listen because so many do, and that's okay.  More for us.

I've had my own setlist written in my mind.  I wanted "Stay or Leave," "Captain," "Louisiana Bayou," "Laying in the Hands of God," "Don't Drink the Water," "Seven," "Alligator Pie," "You and Me," "Bartender," so many more to name, most of which were played!  We left before the encore, but that's okay - I was just so happy to be there.  

I wanted so badly for him to play  "Stay or Leave," but I thought my chances were very slim.  I just wanted to dance with my best friend to this song as the lyrics are some of my favorite.  Lo and behold, it was his 2nd or 3rd song of the set.  Talk about my night!

I'll be living off this for a while... and I'm okay with that.

"Remember when we used to dance and everyone wanted to be you and me? I want to be, too." -Dave Matthews, "Stay or Leave."

Friday, June 25, 2010

Baby Sitters Club

I now only receive channels 1-28 on my television. I'm absolutely traumatized and I will think of a solution but for now I'm just digging into the vault for DVDs to watch.  Late last night I started with Goodfellas and then moved on to the Baby Sitters Club followed by some Tim Burton gems.  

I hadn't seen BSC (Baby Sitters Club) in many moons, which is why I dusted it off and popped it into the DVD player.  The story seemed a lot different to me this time around then it did when I was a tween watching it.  One word: Disturbing.

First of all, these girls (ages 11 and 13: the 11-year old's being "junior members" of the BSC) were actual business women.  They were 13-years old  providing a service and collecting payment.  Sure it was just baby sitting, but they had office hours, an office phone and a treasurer.  When I was 13, Mary Anne, I wasn't kissing Logan, I was riding horses.  

Furthermore, they were dealing with real-life almost adult-like issues.  Kristy's father came back into her life which she felt was necessary to keep as a secret, Dawn was studying for a ridiculous anatomy test, Stacey was a NYC-obsessed diabetic and they were all bending over backwards for each other. THIRTEEN!

Lastly, (this is the part that really bothered me) Stacey and her foreign boyfriend.  A child she would baby sit for regularly introduced Stacey to her foreign cousin, Luca.  He was 17 and took an instant liking to Stacey, who lied about her age.  She convinced him that she was 16 and they enjoyed their little weekly dates.  Of course he found out she was only 13, freaked out, but then came back (but of course) at the end of the movie to tell her he was suddenly okay with it.  He assured her he would be back to visit next summer when he was 18 to which she replied, "I'll be 14 then!" 
"I know!"  He said with a smile and then sealed it with a kiss.
SEVENTEEN!  THIRTEEN!  Try that again next summer, buddy.  Jail likes bitches. 

What the hell were we watching as kids?!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Sleep Talkin' Man

This is worth it's own post.  I'm sure I'm the only one living under the rock who hasn't seen this blog/heard of it until today, but in case I'm not, you MUST add this blog:

This blog is managed by this English man's wife, Karen, who records her husband throughout the night because he says the most ridiculous, hilarious things in his sleep.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Dream Weaver

Last night I had a dream about an old fling who's actually quite popular these days.  In reality, our relationship was always rocky, walking on eggshells in fear of setting each other off -- well, wait.  I always walked on eggshells in fear of setting HIM off.  He didn't care about what I thought.

Anywhozzle, he was in my dream last night and he was as affectionate, kind, and sensitive to me as ever.  It was quite nice and refreshing.  It even made me miss him a little.  It's obviously sticking with me a bit!

Sunday, June 6, 2010

"You SUCK, Brander!"

I've had a lot more time lately to think about the different relationships I have in my life. I tend to come off insensitive and crude --to most people, anyway-- but there's one thing for sure: 

I would never go out of my way to intentionally hurt anyone. 

There are people out there who have track records of doing hurtful things to those they "care about" and then expect those loved one's to shrug it off and welcome them in again with open arms. The gal who's reading this knows what I'm talking about, eh, lovie? Those types of "friends" deserve nothing. They want what they want and they don't care who they hurt while racing down the path to get it. Call me insensitive (again) but I think those people deserve nothing. You messed up, deal with the consequences.

Then there are people who purposely go for the jugular. They'll constantly belittle you and everything you enjoy for their own twisted pleasure. This, of course, coming from the same people who say, "you think you're better than everyone else." Nay, you know why? Because (see above) I would never. Go out of my way. To intentionally hurt anyone. You, on the other hand, get pleasure out of it, and I think people like you deserve nothing. 

Both types of people I listed above have excuses for everything. They didn't realize how much they'd hurt the person and they're sorry, or you can't tell the tone via email, text or writing. I'm calling bullsh*t! Ethics are instilled young (at least if you're raised correctly) and tone is crap. What you're typing is what you're thinking regardless. I always type exactly how I speak, so if you get offended by what I say, it's because that's what I was thinking and it hit home, not because, "Oh gee. If I had said that to your face, I would've laughed afterwards, so it's not as rude." 

Time to cut the fat. We've got a lot of work to do. 

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Adventures of A&A: Thinking Ahead

"A day in the life of a girl and her wife."


on a completely unrelated note
i bought my new years dress
: )
it's may
i know

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

You Tell Me Now?!

I was going to write this post about how I'm not feeling myself lately. I was telling my coworker/friend whom I confide in that I feel like I've become the biggest curmudgeon in the last 4 years. He was quick to correct me that I'm not bitter and jaded, I've just lost my confidence. I'd prefer that over just being a plain jerk.

I've been talking to old friends on Facebook. It's amazing how happy I was when I was with them and it's amazing how simply reminiscing about those times brings me to happier place. I must've talked to at least a handful of old friends who admitted to having a crush on me back during those days. That's not relevant to this post aside from it making me feel good, but I thought it was funny because I'm positive it's happened to all of us. 

I'm trying to change direction a bit to get myself back (myself from those happier times) and although I wish it would happen faster, I know it's going to be a slow, annoying, painful process. I'm thankful to have some old friends in my life again. My former roommate/coworker and now semi-boss. I had forgotten how helpful and kind he is. I know that spending more time with him is going to help me get on the path of regaining my self-confidence and increasing my overall worth.

I think he's onto something:

Friday, May 14, 2010

Git R Done

Sign on my friend Mike's fence. Motivating.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

The Worst Kind

Sometimes I miss him. A wise friend told me to write him a letter telling him exactly how he's made me feel over the years, fold it, and put it in my wallet. When I find myself missing him, take it out, read it, and remind myself why I finally walked away. I took the advice and I wrote the letter. I don't think I've ever taken it out to read it, though. I don't know if it's because I lived it and I recall how he's made me feel quite vividly, or if it's because I don't want to relive the way he's made me feel. Either way, the letter stays put.

I applaud myself on this one. This was one "relationship" where I think I did everything as right as I could have. I was very open and honest with both myself and him about what I wanted and how I felt. I didn't get the same in return. I also allowed myself (slash WANTED) to be affectionate with him. He reciprocated usually. I tried to decipher through his mixed-up, mixed signal comments, explanations and thoughts. 
"We can't be together. It would never work." *Kiss*
His career paths were noble ones. In my mind, I turned him into something he was not. I made him better for me than he is. I made excuses for his behaviors: One, two, three, hundred strikes. Even when he was wrong, he was right. I can't help but think of him whenever I pass his "job."
"You would be the only girl with tattoos that I'd ever like."
Sometimes I would get shut down, put down and held down and then I'd get a gift two days later. I used to think it was because he cared and thought of me. Now I just think it was some form of abuse. A pattern behavior. As honest as I was, I would still get told that I was making things up, that it was all in my head and I was the crazy one. My only response was and could only be: You've treated me like dirt. I don't need to make up more reasons to hate you.
But I don't hate him; I feel badly for him. I just know I can't and won't be around anymore to take the abuse.

Monday, May 3, 2010


Why is it to take one step forward you have to take two steps back?

I just pressed "delete" no less than 30 times. I guess this is to be continued!

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome

This isn't new:  I let everything that's good pass me by.  I think it's a disease (or disorder) like hoarding or sex addiction.  I admire those who aren't afraid to be happy and to take the necessary, though not always smiled upon, steps in order to achieve that ultimate happiness. 

I've let my anxiety hold me back from a lot of great experiences.  I've also let the fear of how others would view me stop me from doing things that I wanted to do.  All that's gotten me is a stigma of walking the line.  I'm not Johnny Cash, and even though he walked the line, even he stepped off track. 

I've also let many (and I mean many) great guys disappear because -- simply put -- I just didn't appreciate them at the time.  My stubbornness gets in the way each and every time and then I usually decide that I'd be happier alone in the end.  But really, I don't want to be alone. 

Moving along, I recently thought about an old acquaintance (dare I call him "friend"?) that I had  a few years ago.  Actually, I had thought about him off and on, but when we ran into each other at a store, it was blatant confirmation that I had to rekindle our romance of words.  He was always very kind to me:  always there to throw a compliment (if I were willing to catch), always there to stimulate me (my mind, guys.  My mind), and always ready to lend a logical piece of advice or a hand if there was anything he could ever do.  I took this for granted.  I guess I'm always afraid of leading people on, or turning friendships/relationships into something they're not.

I cut him loose.  Nothing like, "Hey, your services are no longer required," but we slowly just stopped all communication.  And that was it. 

So upon this meet cute we had in the store; although not so much "cute" as we didn't even exchange words, just glances, and we started communicating again, it obviously just wasn't the same.  We had both been through a lot.  We exchanged a few texts here and there, a few emails, made plans to get together to catch up (but not the actual "meet up" plans, the kind of plans you just say you're making, yet never actually do it), but never did we really get back into our old groove. 

I thought about this and confronted him.  I told him I missed talking to him.  I love the way he writes, so I always have a comment when I read anything he posts, but I haven't been getting responses.  What's the deal, man?  He apologized and told me that sometimes he gets that way, but it's by no means my fault and he'll do better.  He promised.  Then he tells me he's moving.  I thought: No!  The only person I wanted to hang out with is now leaving!  Upon further inquiry, he reveals he has a fiance' and a new job.  I can't remember the exact words, but even though it was in writing, I got the indication that I was being a nuisance and this was his way of being rid of me.  The only thing I could think to say was, "Okay. Good luck!"  And with that, I deleted his phone number. 

Why do I feel so dumb, though?

We were always friends, but I'm not sure if we were ever completely on the same wavelength.  I enjoyed his friendship, as I'm sure he did mine but I think at one point there were more feelings there that I never gave the chance to be explored. 

I know he'll eventually read this, and that being said:  I want you to know that I know I have bad timing; I've always been that way and for some reason I don't think I'd change it if I could.  I don't think running into you was coincidence and I was definitely looking forward to maybe starting a more active friendship, but apparently the stars have a different path for you!  I'm sorry I let all these years go to waste instead of just giving you the time and attention (as my dear friend) that you selflessly deserved.  Congratulations! 

Thursday, April 8, 2010

At Least I Have the Cell Phone

I am queen of the dreams - at least in my own mind. I love to dream and I tend to remember mostly all of them (or so I think!). Last night was particularly interesting. Not so much the dream itself, but who was in the dream. 

There was a girl I knew in middle school. We weren't very close friends - maybe a few words exchanged here and there, and the most we shared were a few classes growing up. She was tall, smart, friendly, loved succeeding and she sure wasn't afraid to share her success. I remember having a math class with her in 7th or 8th grade and she showed us a catalog she had modeled for. She was proud, as she should've been and I remember thinking how cool it was for her to be able to balance her friends, school work and such awesome extracurricular activities the way she did. 

I hadn't seen her after 8th grade and after the end of freshman year I moved up to New York. Being that we weren't really friends, I hadn't thought about her since. I do remember watching one of those spring break MTV shows and I saw her on there. "Holy crap! That's Lauren!" Fast forward a few years later, and back to South Florida I went.

I love how everyone you ever knew in your life is on Facebook and I also love how you remember all of the names even as adults. Most of the friends I have on Facebook are classmates I had throughout my life and I'm okay with that -- Lauren being one. It came as no shock to me to see that she's made it in the modeling world. She looks exactly the same and she still seems like the same girl we knew back in junior high. So the dream, you ask? Fine.

In regular dream-fashion, I have no idea why things were or how things were, but Lauren and I were good enough friends for her to have given me an iPad-type device and I suppose some sort of hand-held game. In exchange, I had given her a cell phone under my name (bad credit, maybe?). I must have done something to rattle her cage because before I knew it, the wireless on my "iPad" wasn't working and she made it very clear that if I wanted it to work again, I had better send her a lot of flowers like her other "smart friends." Jeez! What did I do, girl?! Must've been bad.

My revenge? No problem, I'll just call the cell phone service provider and terminate your contract! It would probably cost the same as sending those flowers! Before you knew it, she turned into the evil other-mother in Coraline and chased me all over trying to take my phone so that I couldn't make that call. 

I guess it's just so vivid to me because I have numerous dreams where I'm trying to hide as if it's a life-or-death situation. I sure hope it wasn't one in this case!

Damn, Lauren! What'd I do?!

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Why NYC Scares Me: Reason 586 of 2750284038

This story is a little old, but I was reminded of it a minute ago as I received a Tweet from Zak Bagans saying,
"In a cab with the driver he's 80 years old and is driving like mario andrettie and keeps cursing... this dude rocks"
Please keep in mind I wrote it verbatim, sans punctuation, proper spelling and the like. Anyway, I was brought back to this past New Years.

When the Jersey Shore took over the bar we were at, we decided to call it a night. The walk from the bar to Grand Central wasn't that bad, but after being on our feet in our stilettos, it seemed almost unbearable. Allie quickly made it known that the girls were NOT walking, and although the men of the group were insisting that there would be no way we could hail a cab on New Years, Allie almost immediately proved them wrong.

I don't want to say I was a non-believer but I did secure my own ride, and when I heard her calling me to get in the cab, I quickly jumped off The Rag's back and ran over to the yellow slice 'o heaven. 

The driver... was a creeper. Some form of Middle Eastern and clearly had no issues with letting us know exactly what was on his mind. About us, about the girl in the little blue piece of fabric (blue was his favorite color - he slowed down to offer her a ride), about how much he likes boobies and let's not forget the deal - if we flashed boobies, our ride was discounted. Not free, but discounted. Classy.

When there were no more, "oh my God, look at HER"'s he asked, "so you guys are all already drunk, huh?" - I'm paraphrasing here, I can't quite remember the exact creepy question he asked, but Allie didn't think twice before answering, "YUP!" NO, ALLISON! NO! Why would you ever admit that?! I had to try and save it, "not me! Totally sober." And I was, I wasn't lying, but he also had to know that there was no way he was going to see/touch/lick/whatever any type of boobie in that disgusting cab.

Before we reached our destination, Allie told him to stop by a bank so we could get cash out of the ATM. When he pulled up along the cub outside of the bank, Allie jumped out, leaving Maggie and I in the cab so that he'd be rest assured that we weren't going to bail without paying (which we completely should've done). What does Maggie do? She closes the cab door. NO, MAGGIE! NO! Why would you DO that?! What if this creeper wanted to drive us off and do awful, disgusting things? You'd be okay because you're wasted, but me? I'd be conscious of the whole debacle! 

Allie runs back to the cab, gets in and a few blocks later we were at the glorious train station and we're not sure how it happened, but the guys were already there, half-eaten wraps in-hand. At least we didn't have to walk.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Old-en Cartoons-enberg

I have this friend who's going to be shipped off to boot camp come August for the U.S. Navy. I don't know how/why he found these, but I can't stop watching them. He posted a link to a very old Donald Duck WWII propaganda cartoon called "The Spirit of 43." It was barely 6 minutes long, but I can only imagine how many children ran to mother and father upon its ending credits saying, "save for taxes!" 

Then of course, there's link after link after link of more. I watched the Three Little Pigs next.

And of course, you can't forget Donald Duck as a Nazi. 

Can't... stop... watching.