Bricks were shat after 1408.
Bricks are still being shat. Justin probably has bite marks on his arm from when I was chewing pieces of it off in anxiety. (I'm a bloody, painful date.) Jesus christ, what a scary movie.
I took a nap afterwards and had a nightmare of being Josh Harnett, staying in a posh hotel room on the 14th floor of a New York hotel that doesn't exist, with Samuel L. Jackson in bum clothing climbing through my window and talking about
how I shouldn't have written that article. It was scarier than it sounded, trust me. You don't want SLJ coming through your window at you.
I also realized something during this movie that I should have realized before: John Cusack is really pretty. Like, really, really pretty. Not like girly-pretty or anything - he's just in possession of some really good genes. D: I want those pretty genes. He doesn't look like he aged at all in the past ten years. His eyelashes are so dark and full that he'll never need mascara, ever. He can pull off the perfect, puppy-dog, please-don't-kick-me-when-I-pee-on-your-carpet eyes. WTF John Cusack? Why aren't you donating sperm yet?