All I want is what's coming to me!
Boondock Saints II was even better than I had anticipated. I'm almost comfortable declaring it to be the best movie in the history of American Cinema (suck it, Peter, and your Transformers). Seriously - if I had another ten bucks and didn't have to wake up in the morning, I would have gone directly to the counter and bought me another ticket to the next showing. And not left the theater. Never been more serious in my life, folks. I will be going again Sunday, and possibly, again next Tuesday. I want THIS MOVIE to be the movie that beats Prisoner of Azkaban and PoTC: Dead Man's Chest for Number of Times I Paid To See This Movie (currently: 3).
Work sucked today. Totally not in the Christmas Mood (AND THAT REMINDS ME: * ). I'm tellin' ya, if I have to hear Paul McCartney singing about having a wonderful fuckin' Christmastime ONE MORE FUCKING TIME --- wait. This rant sounds familiar. Anyway. Between people wanting to have food shipped out and other stuff I'm not allowed to bitch about on the interwebs because of 'privacy policy' and other shit, but let me just say: DON'T ASK FOR STUFF WE CAN'T GIVE YOU AND THEN ACT ALL PETULANT. IF WE TELL YOU'RE S-O-L, MAYBE IT'S YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT FOR NOT BUYING IT BEFORE IT WENT OUT OF STOCK.
Had lunch with Brad. High point of my day.
Me: Saw the best movie in the history of cinema last night.
Brad: Finally saw Transformers, huh?
Me: Who do I look like, Peter? No, Boondock Saints II.
Brad: Oh. I heard it was 'meh.' Didn't the first one suck?
Me: YOU TAKE THAT BACK. You know that movie has a special hole in my heart filled with love!
Brad: You know what looks good - the one with the chick from Portland in it.
Me: Oh, Up in the Air? Y'know, you're lucky you're talking to me; no one else would have gotten that reference. But yeah, that does look good. And Sherlock Holmes, o'course.
Brad: How's it going over there?
Me: Oh my God, I will be so happy when Christmas is over.
Brad: Y'know, if I were a dude named Jean, I'd tell you that Christmas is, y'know, two weeks from today.
Me: Oh, fuck me, are you serious? (Rob turns bright red two tables over) Y'like that one, Robbie?
*Dear ABC:
WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, EDITING OUT BITS OF A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS?! First, Obama preempts the classic for his address on Afghanistan, and then you CUT OUT THE PART WHERE SALLY WORRIES ABOUT SANTA NOT UNDERSTANDING HER SPECIFIC LIST, SO PLEASE JUST SEND TENS OR TWENTIES. Dudes -- you cut Shermy's one fucking line. Poor Shermy has one line -- "Every Christmas it's the same. I always end up playing a shepherd." -- AND YOU CUT IT. BASTARDS. FUCKING FUCKASS BASTARDS FUCKED WITH A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS. FUCK. ASS.
Work sucked today. Totally not in the Christmas Mood (AND THAT REMINDS ME: * ). I'm tellin' ya, if I have to hear Paul McCartney singing about having a wonderful fuckin' Christmastime ONE MORE FUCKING TIME --- wait. This rant sounds familiar. Anyway. Between people wanting to have food shipped out and other stuff I'm not allowed to bitch about on the interwebs because of 'privacy policy' and other shit, but let me just say: DON'T ASK FOR STUFF WE CAN'T GIVE YOU AND THEN ACT ALL PETULANT. IF WE TELL YOU'RE S-O-L, MAYBE IT'S YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT FOR NOT BUYING IT BEFORE IT WENT OUT OF STOCK.
Had lunch with Brad. High point of my day.
Me: Saw the best movie in the history of cinema last night.
Brad: Finally saw Transformers, huh?
Me: Who do I look like, Peter? No, Boondock Saints II.
Brad: Oh. I heard it was 'meh.' Didn't the first one suck?
Me: YOU TAKE THAT BACK. You know that movie has a special hole in my heart filled with love!
Brad: You know what looks good - the one with the chick from Portland in it.
Me: Oh, Up in the Air? Y'know, you're lucky you're talking to me; no one else would have gotten that reference. But yeah, that does look good. And Sherlock Holmes, o'course.
Brad: How's it going over there?
Me: Oh my God, I will be so happy when Christmas is over.
Brad: Y'know, if I were a dude named Jean, I'd tell you that Christmas is, y'know, two weeks from today.
Me: Oh, fuck me, are you serious? (Rob turns bright red two tables over) Y'like that one, Robbie?
*Dear ABC:
WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, EDITING OUT BITS OF A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS?! First, Obama preempts the classic for his address on Afghanistan, and then you CUT OUT THE PART WHERE SALLY WORRIES ABOUT SANTA NOT UNDERSTANDING HER SPECIFIC LIST, SO PLEASE JUST SEND TENS OR TWENTIES. Dudes -- you cut Shermy's one fucking line. Poor Shermy has one line -- "Every Christmas it's the same. I always end up playing a shepherd." -- AND YOU CUT IT. BASTARDS. FUCKING FUCKASS BASTARDS FUCKED WITH A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS. FUCK. ASS.