Let it Go (Africanized Tribal Cover) Alex Boye Ft. One Voice Children’s Choir
You’re all wrong. This is the best version.
The fans of The Lion King go down swinging.
Brad Bird is filming “Tomorrowland” in Tomorrowland at Walt Disney World today. Carousel of Progress interiors with ’50s / ’60s extras and a star or two (no George Clooney). Likely to be portrayed in the film as the World’s Fair version of the attraction. - 11/11/13
That leaning cast member though.
Thanks, college program.
July 17, 1955: Disneyland Theme Park Opens in California
On this day in 1955, Disneyland Park opened its gates to 28,000 people, half of whom entered using counterfeit tickets. The day was marked by numerous disasters including: heavy traffic, extremely high temperatures, a shortage of food, and a gas leak. For over a decade, Walt Disney and his executives referred to this day as “Black Sunday,” declaring that the official opening day was the following day, July 18.
The $17 million theme park in Anaheim, California was the only theme park to be designed and built under the direct supervision of Walt Disney.
Learn about the early beginnings of the cartoonist who gave the world Mickey Mouse and Disneyland.
Photo: Children running through gate of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle at Walt Disney’s theme park, Disneyland, July 1955 (Photo by Allan Grant/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images).
Your concept art strikes the deepest emotions in me, years before I see an actual film. Keep it up. Don’t let me down.
Your pal, Tony.
My parents divorced when I was one. It’s a lifestyle that, thankfully, I grew up with. It’s what I’m used to. My dad remarried, and I hated that woman. Not in the “you’re not my mom” kind of way either, the “this bitch is fuckin’ crazy” kind of way. When you’re getting verbally and physically assaulted for dragging your tennis shoes through a Target… Yeah. Crazy.
So at the age of 9 or 10, I’d really love the time I got to spend with my mother in her custody. Mostly because I love my mother, but also because I got away from the wretched horror that was my dad’s wife. I’d watch the headlights of the cars passing down the street at night when she was supposed to come to get me. Brightness would pass. It wasn’t her. Any minute now. More lights. Not her. This cycle would repeat for about 20 minutes. I’d hoped she’d be 15 minutes early, now she’s 5 minutes late. I’d have my little backpack on, wasting NO time. Finally! There’s her car! I’d book out the door and jump in. She’d of course want to come in and exchange pleasantries. Even at that young age I’d be thinking “Mom! Get the fuck in the car!”
It was my way out of that hell. Even if for just a few short days. I had a way out.
Over 15 years later I find myself wide awake this evening, currently nearing 3 AM, watching the road leading up to my complex and watching the headlights.
I know that nobody is coming for me. I don’t have a bag packed, ready to go. I don’t have a way out. But maybe I’m out here because maybe, just maybe, I’m just looking for a little hope.
People who think Merida is Pixar’s first princess.