THE BLOG ABOUT MY ONE TRUE LOVE: ME!
I am often asked, “Jimmy, who’s your best one, Bill Pullman or Bill Paxton?” The question, as often as I hear it, has become quite laughable, for I have come to the only logical solution.
I boldly respond, “Neither, for I choose the bastard son of the two Bills. I choose Olyphant.”
Could you imagine those two doin' it? I know right.
It's like Freaky Friday but with nerdy virgins.
If I write a movie and I really want Michael Cera to be the star, and it turns out that Michael Cera can’t do it because he’s busy making sure the Arrested Development movie doesn’t happen, I should re-write the character.
After that, I should go to Home Depot, buy a length of heavy-duty rope, drive back home, murder my pets, record an unintelligible suicide tape, and hang myself for ever coming up with the idea.
So I’m wicked hungover the other morning because I was up late the night before celebrating the big promotion I got at the office for how I handled the Fisher Account. Now, my morning routine after I’ve had one or three too many limoncellos, is to get on the onlines and check out my sites. After MILFhunter.com and wikipedia articles about Elephantiasis and Diane Arbus that somehow managed to meander to an article about the differences between Jewish and Islamic dietary laws, I go to CNN.com to check the latest headlines for oddities. If you don’t know what I’m talking about go to this link, because I don’t have time to go into it, and I feel like I’ve already babbled on and on without even getting to the point.
Oh, and there is a point.
The point is this little gem that I find tucked away near the end of their latest headlines:
I like Road House
Continue reading ’10 Best Road House Quotes Excluding, “Pain don’t hurt,” “A polar bear fell on me,” and “I used to fuck guys like you in prison.”’
This is Bradley W. Cavanaugh:
AKA Chad Sexington
Ol’ Brad is wanted in Wichita, Kansas for felony theft. Although the wanted poster doesn’t say, and I’m no Columbo, I have a pretty good idea what he has stolen.
Apparently, Destiny's Child didn't break up soon enough.
Apparently bootylicious is now part of the broken down, idiotic patois we once referred to as the English Language. I wish I could be around 1,000 years from now when those robot aliens who that let that pothead cyborg Haley Joel Osment spend one more day with his yuppie pretend mommy (that wasp bitch) come back to Earth to try to learn about our civilization and find shit like this. I still wish I was bootylicious, though.
This is basically nightmare fuel. I don't know where it's from. I used to have a bookmark to it, but the site hosting it took it down. But I found it again today (3:00 AM) while doing some researching (pornography). Now I will have it for. ev. er. Download it as you see fit, but I'm pretty sure seven days from seeing it, you die.