But maybe with less blatant advertising.
I guess it's time that I told you all the truth.
The real reason I've been quieter lately is that I've decided to follow in the footsteps of Lady Gaga and Britney Spears.
No, not like that. I'm a macho yeti! Grunt! Roar! Wheeze!
But see, stuck up here in the mountain, day in and day out, you end up watching a lot of YouTube. And after a few hours of Keyboard Cat, the kid who dances to Single Ladies, and a bunch of animated robot animals, you start to long for something with production value.
Oh, and by "you," I mean "me." I hope that's not confusing to you. Er, me. No, you. Moving on.
So I've been watching a lot of music videos lately. I'm fascinated by their stories. Like Britney Spears' latest, where she comes to earth and gets a job playing both Spiderman (in a wedding dress, natch) and Venom on Broadway, except someone switches her web solution with paint, messing up all the studio equipment. Poor Julie Taymor.
Or Gaga's latest, which is all about showing you disgusting images and seeing how long you can watch before you look away screaming. Ah, Gaga. She puts the "errr" in "glamor."
Well, I figured, if they can do it, so can I. So I wrote this song about my life, and now some yeti-loving friends are helping me shoot a fantastic new music video for it. It's going to debut very soon, right here on this blog! Woohoo!
In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen, we shall be giving you the ballet from Act III of tonight's opera.
Or you could just re-read all of my past blog entries that you missed.
Now I have to go get in makeup. I'm wanted on the set.
Not the yeti.
So after yesterday's blog about the Magic Kingdom tipboard, one of my lovable readers took me to task, writing:
"Is this blog entry really yours? It certainly doesn't sound like the loveable catatonic yeti we mindless admirers have come to enjoy!"
D'oh!
Well, doggone it, ya caught me.
Sometimes, when I'm not in the mood to blog, I let my friend Stacy blog for me. She's really a sweet animatronic, but she's a little more random than I am.
Stacy Nary is the frozen cearadactylus animatronic over at Dinosaur. I have no idea what a cearadactylus is, but I kinda figured it's not polite to ask these things. I think it's like a pterodactyl, but her kind can be a bit sensitive about that stuff.
Oh shoot. I said "her kind." I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Rats, how do you delete with this dictation program? Delete. Delete. No, don't type that. Computer, delete. Backspace. Undo paragraph. Erase all that. Stop mocking me! Argh, I hate this thing!
Ahem. Moving on.
Stacy's still kind of bitter because she was told this Dinosaur thing was going to be her big break, playing the role of a protective mother dino, swooping down on the guests like Spider-Man…
No, no, not like Spider-Man. Delete.
Anyway, she waited tables for years to break into showbiz. And from what she says, it's pretty hard to get tips as a cearadactylus. Then the Disney folks approached her about a role as a protective mother dino in something called Countdown to Extinction. She was hesitant about that, because she was still really young at the time, and she didn't want to be typecast as a mother dino type. You can't get any good roles after that; there just aren't that many mother dino roles in Hollywood. Everybody wants someone young, someone who's not the mama.
But she took the role anyway, because she was pretty sure it was going to be the next Nicolas Cage vehicle. It turned out to be the next Indiana Jones vehicle instead. (Ha ha ha! Get it? Because the ride vehicle— Oh never mind.)
So she signed the contract, and wound up like me, motionless with a light shining on her every few seconds. She tells me she's put in for a transfer to Flights of Wonder, but they keep telling her there aren't any positions open.
She was hoping to get cast as the tour guide.
(At this point, the 2 of my readers who have ever seen Flights of Wonder will chuckle. Chuckle, I say!)
So yeah, Stacy and I are friends. We hang out (literally) and talk about Disney a lot. And sometimes I let her use my computer. So if I ever write something that you don't like, you can blame it on her.
All the funny stuff, though, that's all me.
Wait, that sounds arrogant. Delete.
There are no words.
I love how Disney describes things. They can take even the cheesiest attraction and make it sound exciting an fun. Like take a look at the descriptions on the Magic Kingdom tipboard:

Whirling twirling fun!
You can fly!
One Hunny of a Ride! (Yuk, yuk, yuk.)
Round and round and round you go! (Just like Mission: Space!)
We love exclamation marks!
Of course, if you think about it, most of these are totally interchangeable, and none of them tell you anything useful, but it does at least make everything seem more exciting.
There is, however, one attraction that even Disney has no words to describe.

Look at their official description of Stitch's Great Escape.

"Stitch's Great Escape? Oh… that's, um, well… it's Stitch's Great Escape."
Uh huh.
You know, if you need a description for SGE, I've got a few I could give you. How about:
Where fun goes to die!
Or:
It used to be cool!
Then there's:
Chili dog smell!
Or my personal favorite:
In the dark! And for kids! What could go wrong?!
No need to say anything, Disney. You're welcome.

