Movin' slow

Ouch. I am hungover. After a rather late night involving Bloody Mary (that WHORE)/beer/wine, I feel a little the worse for wear, aka FUCKING AWFUL. But have no fear, my suffering makes for plenty of violent hatred and that equals fun for all.

Strike that fun part, I am OUTLAWING it. Fun is what leads to this shit, and this is what leads to killing sprees.



Ack! I feel like I am being operated on by a very shaky Christopher Walken after a scathing reappraisal of his career path after catching a midnight screening of Wayne's World 2.



Waaaaah! I KNOW you are a genius, Walken, but you HAVE to turn this shit around. Just because you starred in possibly THE WORST of Johnny Depp's films- Nick of Time (and this is saying something, people. JD has made some stinkers. I can't even bring myself to say it out loud, but here goes: The Astronaut's Wife. It catches in my throat like a dry table water cracker)- does not somehow create a shield of bulletproof shit that means you can dodge your demons forever. Best part in Nick of Time? EASY: fucking Charles S. Dutton as a near-deaf SHOESHINE MAN. No, I'm not even kidding.

Pardon me while I feed rainbow colored cupcakes to the demon cactus rabbits that have taken up residence in my brain. I am dead serious. Here they are:



Oh my god. It has finally happened. I have it allll figured out. Charles S. Dutton is The Missing Link that has clearly created a sink hole in Johnny Depp's career. Proof?



Here he is stinking up the screen with Johnny in 'Secret Window.' Remember? The movie that made me fall off the bed? Yes, CSD was in it too, and was the aforementioned near-deaf shoeshine man, Huey in Nick of Time. Damn you, Charles S. Dutton! Now if only I can link him to The Astronaut's Wife and The Ninth Gate, and any other war crimes that Johnny Depp has committed (I won't even talk about his river gypsy guitar strumming in Chocolat because my stomach is still a bit tender)... and, need I even whisper it?



DON JUAN DE MARCO???? Wherein the masked love bandit Johnny Depp enables aging whale of a man MARLON FUCKING BRANDO to beach himself on the sandy strand of PASSION, never to return to the sea of morbidly obese singledom.

Oh my fucking god. I would rather watch the Island of Dr. EFFING Moreau, at least I would get to see some MANIMALS!



Whoa. How did I foregt that I was actually IN that film? Shit! There I am sitting right next to Brando himself! I must have been sharing some of his horse pills and blacked out.

Anyway, my headache has abated somewaht. Must go buy some baklava to ease myself back into work. Ciao.