Fresh Air

So today started out at a very low point—much like the Dow Jones and Nasdaq (cue rimshot), but like my AFFIRMATION FOR WHENEVER implied, bullshit is temporary. It will pass and you’ll eventually be back in the confines of your safe space, searching the web for nefarious things like cheap ninja stars and used socks on EBay.com.

But today actually reminded me of the musical, Annie. You know, the tale about the billionaire that goes to the orphanage and only rescues one little kid when he could afford to buy the orphanage and raise the other children’s living conditions? “The sun will come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow….[blah blah blah blah].” It’s a beautifully written song and it illustrates my Thursday, flawlessly.

My lowest point pulled up to my job and parked in my space around 11:45am. It rolled the tinted windows of its six wheeled hummer down and blew cigarette smoke right into my mouth. It dropped a soggy bag of McDonald’s on my Reebok’s and laughed. It was also playing some trash ass reggae, the worst genre of music ever created by someone who can only be described as a Satan. It sucked…and not in the awesome way that I’m subtlety implying with this run-on sentence for absolutely no freaking reason whatsoever, but in the worst way, like a leech that’s sponsored by Kirby Vacuum. The low point eventually pulled off and took the sound of steel drums along with it, leaving a distraught me standing in a pile of spilled food, all alone in an emptied parking lot. But I didn’t let that moment define my day. I grabbed my heart by the balls and tugged on them until it squirted sweet happiness all over my chest. And that sweet, sticky nirvana, came in the form of buying stocks—Disney stocks.

Buying ownership into Disney lifted everything around me, not just my spirits and dick. I could suddenly talk to birds and make mice do my bidding. Charming princesses came from every direction, seeking time with me. I could finally see the world, wonder after wonder, over, sideways, and under. It was great.

So now that I’m a big time stock owner, and part of the official Marvel owners guild, I’m going to be making some changes. First, I’m parting my dick hair to the left. I know how we typically go with a right justification, but things are different now, I own Disney.

I’ll also be drinking natural spring water, exclusively. And I’m not talking about that Voss or Fiji, bullshit. I’m talking real deal springs. I’m gonna be guzzling with the deers, baby.

That’s right, I’m suddenly too good for most of you readers now. I’m kind of a big deal. I’m packing B.D.E. (That’s Big Disney Energy for those of you that aren’t in the “know.”)

I’m definitely a changed man now. I’m not the “non-Disney” rando I used to be. I’m an owner now. The next time you see Mike Wazowski or Deadpool doing their thing, just know you’re welcome.

Love, Jae Davis (Disney Owner)

“I think I’m legally, Scrooge McDuck now. I may need to look into this.” — Jae Davis

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