Ohhh man, attempting to explain a Disney Adult to a Croat, I might as well attempt to explain a bicycle to a fish, but here we go. For the purpose of this conversation, I am going to leave out all the Satanic pedophile shit The Walt Disney does as a corporation, because that is not really germane to the topic of the 'Disney Adult'. At the most basic level, a 'Disney Adult' is an American adult without children, who chooses to visit Disneyland on their own, or with other Disney Adults, and has a very intense interest in all things Disney, all of their various intellectual properties, and a usually a weird obsession with Disney princesses, like Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, et cetera. Demographically, they are almost always single millennial women, although there are some gays, effeminate men, and definitely a lot of Male-to-Female transsexuals as well. The look something like this:  Many Americans of my generation, having largely abandoned organized religion, lacking a clear and cohesive sense of ethnic or cultural identity, need some sort of shared mythology to attach to, and these adult have chosen Disney to service these very intrinsic human needs. All Gods have been replaced by this pantheon of cartoon characters, and going to Disneyland is, for them, like a Muslim making a pilgrimage to Mecca. They much pay their dues, and spend exorbitant amounts of money giving homage to the corporation that allows them to have a shared sense of identity. Nearly all of these people grew up watching Disney movies, and it is the one thing that can assuredly allow them a sense of shared culture, as hallow as it seems. It is oddly depressing watching so many give into it, as they vainly attempt to extend the magic of childhood well into their 30's and 40's, thinking that if they suspend disbelief and shell out enough dollars at a theme park, they might be a kid forever. Back when I was bartending, I knew one, once. Her name was Janet. She was a nice girl, she really was, early to mid 30's, blonde, heavily tattooed, working a shit retail job she always complained about. Janet always came in alone, and she always left alone. She would come in very early, when the bar was usually empty, looking to talk to Heather, the heavily tattooed ex-stripper owner of the bar that I worked at. You know when you see a girl who is slightly fat in her early 30's, but you can tell her fatness is terminal, and will only ever go in one direction? Looking at her, you knew her destiny was morbid obesity, and you couldn't do a damn thing to warn her about it. She would come in, and we would talk, mostly her bitching about her shit job at a corporate pharmacy, but I didn't mind, I liked talking to her. The only time she wouldn't bitch was when she would talk about yearly vacation, and her eyes would light up with joy. She would tell me about how excited she was to go to Disneyland, how she heard about the new exhibits they had at the 'World of Harry Potter', and how you could buy a wand with some sort of RFID chip in it that would interact with all the exhibits. Ok, that sounds kind of neat. I would ask her who she was going with, perhaps she had a sister or brother with nieces and nephews? Nope. She was going to Disneyland by herself. She told me that was the best way to do it, there are tons of other single adults who do it, and it was a great place to meet people. More power to ya, Janet. And I don't mean to be judgmental, we are all just trying to make it through this very confusing life as best we can, but just looking at her life as an outside observer... It was just sad... She spent all year wage-slaving at a job she clearly hated, where she made shit money, and the pinnacle of her year was when she would travel to Disneyland, to worship at the Atheist American Altar of Capitalism, so she could give all of her money to a fucking Satanic Rat. God Bless America.