DEAD FROM HOTNESS. PLEASE FORWARD MAIL.
So I went to see The Ring 2 today (and that will be a different post, because I get a little talky about it. I know, I'm surprised, too), and they had trailers for Man of the House (don't care), Red Eye (does not look entirely crappy), and the new trailer for Sin City.
Um. Okay. Bear with me, here.
There is a difference, you see, between seeing the trailer itty-bitty thanks to your assy dial-up, and seeing it on a giant theater screen. Nick Stahl is ten kinds of pretty pre-Yellow Bastard, and he makes flippy hair work for him. (Damn you and the flat hair, Ben Hawkins! Damn you to hell!) Rosario Dawson is the bondage queen of my *dreams*, and.
Oh, and. Clive Owen as Dwight.
"A hardtop with a decent engine. And make sure it's got a big trunk."
Um. Okay. Yes, sir. Y'all need me, I'll be in my bunk.
Um. Okay. Bear with me, here.
There is a difference, you see, between seeing the trailer itty-bitty thanks to your assy dial-up, and seeing it on a giant theater screen. Nick Stahl is ten kinds of pretty pre-Yellow Bastard, and he makes flippy hair work for him. (Damn you and the flat hair, Ben Hawkins! Damn you to hell!) Rosario Dawson is the bondage queen of my *dreams*, and.
Oh, and. Clive Owen as Dwight.
"A hardtop with a decent engine. And make sure it's got a big trunk."
Um. Okay. Yes, sir. Y'all need me, I'll be in my bunk.