I've known my best friend Caitlin since kindergarten, but our relationship blossomed in high school. One major bonding experience that solidified our friendship was our weekly Disney movie marathons. Better yet, we did, and still do it right: VHS all the way homies.
Collectively, we watch a lot of movies, but Caitlin is the movie master. Her repertoire of viewed films is astounding. She is also excellent at getting caught up in the emotional plot line. It wasn't until I was 15 that I cried because of a movie. What was this tragic and masterful film that brought this heartless witch to tears, you ask? Well dear reader, it was none other than Disney's Pocahontas. I think it remains one of the count-on-one-hand few movies to make me weep, ever. I honestly cannot remember the last movie to join this elite club, but I'm sure Forrest Gump is in there. Anyway, I blame it on my gammy hormones.
Disney sets all our relationships up to fail by comparison, but hey, who wants to uncontrollably start singing about inane daily tasks? Teaching wild animal intricate choreography would be pretty sick though.
At least pedophiles don't want us anymore. Now we're fair game for everyone else.