Dive in!

Hola, peeps. Monday again, eh? EH?? Well, you know what I say?

FUUUUCCCCKKKKK IIIIIIIIIIIIT!




That's right, y'all. When the going gets tough, strip down to your questionably clean undies and do the dirtiest belly flop you could possibly do, so busted that the water turns to OIL... or blood.

Annnnyway, sorry. I am in a dark, dark place lately. Why???? Oh MAYBE because the whole foundation of society is CRUMBLING!

What makes me say this? Okay, here goes:



'Hotel For Dogs'?... fucking 'HOTEL FOR DOGS'?????? REALLY? Is THIS how we're naming films now? If so, then they could have made it a whole lot easier on themselves and everyone else by calling this little wonder 'Massive Wad of Shit' or 'Gaping Ass Bag'. I mean, where are the BANGKOK DANGEROUS-es, and the 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU-s of yesteryear? And yes, I do remember making a FEW comments at the expense of Bangkok Dangerous, but dudes, I saw the preview recently, and it looked fucking *AWESOME*... now, that's not me saying I was WRONG, because we all know that ceci n'est pas une pipe, younowhaamsayin (ps, if you do, please let me know, cause I'm a bit in the dark here. LOLZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ)? BUT, I do concede that mayHAPS I was a bit..hard on old BD. Shit looks TIGHT!

Well, I must say, just remembering the golden era when films like Bangkok Dangerous and Smokin' Aces reigned has cheered me up slightly and I can share some more exciting news with you: I am psychic.

I have *kind of* known this for ages, but twas confirmed this very morn when, as per usual, I found myself on the bus, bound for London Bridge station and a rather portly gentleman sat next to me, gripping (like the cold and clammy hand of DEATH) a brown paper bag. Now folks, I took one brief glance at said bag and ONE WORD appeared in my mind:

DOUGHNUT.

JUST at that moment, my seatmate, Senor Chubster reached into the bag and LO, pulled out one sad ass looking jam doughnut!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I nearly shat myself.


Helluva bus ride, I can tell you.

Next up, I am taking this show on the road, fucking heading to vegas to work the roulette wheel. If RAIN MAN can do it, so can I... and don't you nerds DARE point out that old RM was a cards man, not a rouletter. I do not give two shits.

PEACE.

News

Peeps, my attention was grabbed by this recent blind item in the Metro:

'Which star was showing their mother around their new home, only to discover they had forgotten to take down the sex swing in the bedroom.' Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

God, dear God... just don't let it be LOUIE ANDERSON (or his cartoon alter ego)...



Unowhamsayin????

Thought so.

In other news, I have been up to basically NADA lately. Proof? Here I am just kicking the fuck back on what most people would describe as a cold and hard marble floor. Me? I don't complain. I'm just all about love, and doing what I was born to do... make people HAPPY.



Smile on your brother, y'all!

Bonjour

Happy New Year, bitches.



C'est moi, Sam Neill! And my flaptastic flying conflaption! Climb aboard. Bwahhhhhhhhhhhhzzzzz!

Just kidding, y'all. It's still me, same old same old.

But innnywayz, the New Year brings a new day, and best of alllll... HOLIDAY PIX!

No fear, though. I have chosen the Top Three for your viewing pleasure. No more, no less. PEEP IT:








Nuff said. What is this, a casting call for fucking WATERSHIP DOWN????? Yuk yuk yuk!!!!!

Only downside? We effing slogged across the city to have a booze and amphetamine-fueled seance by Jim Morrison's grave (um at least that's what I- and the jester hat wearing Italian tourists- were planning, not sure about Elnie and Daniel...) and the shit was CLOSED!!!!!!!!

BALLS!