Folks who would then merge into crowds and disappear. Way back when, Disney would get tons of complaints about “oddly dressed” folks following others around the park. Men and women, adults, children, and teens. Silent, motionless, staring patrons of every age, shape, and size. There’s been a long tradition, apparently, of people reporting strange patrons throughout the park. He’s not going to have fun, enjoy the rides, etc. “Researcher” goes to Disney parks whenever he can, all throughout the year. I’m not going to give their names, because… well, if I have to tell you why, you haven’t been paying attention. The only good thing that has come out of all this is that I know I’m not the only one who’s seen something they shouldn’t have. Written in yellow… paint, I’m sure… was a single word. The outline seemed a perfect match for… well, a “murder victim” you’re probably familiar with if you’ve read my past posts. I was taken aback at first, walking through the parking garage, keeping an eye out for people following me. The best one by far, one that actually made me laugh because of the horror of it all, was a drawing in chalk next my car. If you repost anything I have to say, you’re going to start finding those son of a bitch outlines. People have emailed me about this as well. (All red.) Graffiti on the wall on my way to work a huge Earth, small Sun and Moon in the proper locations. Colored glass bottles left on the doorstep, viewed from the top down. I’ve started keeping a running list of Mickeys I’ve found.Ĭoffee cup rings on my coffee table. Three circles, one big, two small, in the silhouette of the famous mouse’s head. Little rubber Mickeys in the mailbox, a Disney Adventures magazine on my bookshelf. That, and the occasional Disney merchandise left somewhere for me to find. Tell me what blue collar phone jockey does that. That was all he said, and there was an accusing tone to his voice. Staring directly at me, about ten feet behind me. When I turned back to go home, there he was. I followed him around a corner, only to lose him there. He was awkward and out of place, not somebody who was comfortable doing his routine job. I couldn’t place it, but I knew this wasn’t just my imagination acting up. He was middle-aged, doughy, dressed just as you’d expect, but something just seemed off about him. The first one, or rather, the first one I was actually able to spot, was a telephone worker milling around my apartment complex. Hairs standing on the back of the neck and everything. Any casual glance or half-smile in my direction set me off. For the first month or two, I chalked it up to paranoia. There’s no turning back for them… none for me, either… However, for every nuked topic or disappearing blog post, it seems like a hundred more have popped up. It’s been taken down from a few places, mostly corporate sites that were easily leaned on by a larger power. I want to thank everyone who mirrored by post. I’ve received a lot of questions and concerns from folks who read my first-hand account of Mowgli’s Palace… a resort that was built and abandoned by Disney. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything related to the Disney Corporation, and I’m sure you can understand why.Ī lot has been going on since my last post.
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