Until recently my dad and I were on the same brand and dose of medicine. He’s off it now, so he gave me his extras. Through my car window. At a gas station. In Newport. Like this:
Neil Armstrong died two days ago?? How has the news not been blowing this story up? I haven’t heard a peep about this. And he died here in Cincinnati?? What the FUCK??
I’m fucking sick of hearing about Wal•Mart steaks. Did Wal•Mart invented new cows? Did they discover beef? No. It’s the same goddamn meat we’ve been eating for a thousand fucking years. Jesus fucking fuck, people.
How about some truth in advertising:
Wal•Mart: Founded In 1962, Just Now Selling Meat Worth Eating
Last time on TALES FROM NEWPORT!, I heard what I suspected was a man in a motorized wheelchair masturbating in the CD aisle of my local library. Was I right? Was he pulling his periodicals? Rubbing his references? Making library paste? It seemed the world would never know. But then…
I’m trying to think of a more irritating waste of time and money than this new Die Hard travesty, but nope.
The shittiness of a film is usually directly proportional to the amount of needless blue filter used in said film. Seeing as the entirety of Moscow was blue and inhabited by pale green people, I’m guessing the filmmakers were unaware of this ratio. Is there something wrong with the fucking sun in Moscow? Is it on a different planet? Why the fuck does it look like this?
And what the fuck is up with the shaky camera and the constant zooms? I don’t need an extreme close up of every ugly hack actor in this movie. I’m 15 minutes in and I’m goddamn done. I’m fairly certain I could eat Taco Bell at every meal for seven straight days, squat over some blank pages, and shart out a better script than this. Fuck you in the asshole, Bruce Willis. I’m going to bed.
Please comb through the last 40 years of pop culture and post every possible weak, stretched reference to Game Of Thrones. Because that shit’s not at all old already.