Wow, yeah. June. I don't know what happened there. The creative side of my brain decided to completely peace out the month I had jack shit to do at work.
I'll make it up to you's folks.
We've got dead celebrities, movies I haven't seen but probably will, commentary on my own personal shortcomings, and I think an ABC guide to something coming down the pike, so get ready to read stuff that may or may not be based in some form of humor.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Bored broed bored bored bored broed bored bored uninspired do-nothing fuck my head is empty
I will narrate my thoughts.
I don’t know how to spell “narrate” without spellcheck.
There’s this really awful band called “Gatsby’s American Dream”. Pandora does not have a shit filter (diaper?) for their music. F. Scott Fitzgerald would probably love this band’s shout-out. “Hey! Mr. Fitzgerald! Can you hear us down there in Hell? We love your book so much we’re going to destroy it so no one else could ever possibly love it as much as we do!”
Hank Azaria should do more movies where he plays zany, physical characters. Comparing his role in Birdcage to Run, Fatboy, Run is like comparing a flamboyant, Puerto Rican homosexual to a bland, rich stock broker. OHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIT
Crocodiles.
I think if I had to, I could do well in a fight. I’ve been working out once a week for about a week now, and I feel ripped. I used to have the arms of a 12 year old Japanese girl. Now it’s a boy. All I’d need is a rubber band to keep my glasses on and I’m good to go. I’ve always been kind of wimpy. I’ve never even been in a fight. I mean, it’s called “fight or flight”; I have options. But thanks to Animal Planet I’ve discovered a 3rd option: bluffing. For one thing, it might actually work, but if it doesn’t, at least you’re getting your ass kicked for a reason.
Foooooooooood
I don’t know how to spell “narrate” without spellcheck.
There’s this really awful band called “Gatsby’s American Dream”. Pandora does not have a shit filter (diaper?) for their music. F. Scott Fitzgerald would probably love this band’s shout-out. “Hey! Mr. Fitzgerald! Can you hear us down there in Hell? We love your book so much we’re going to destroy it so no one else could ever possibly love it as much as we do!”
Hank Azaria should do more movies where he plays zany, physical characters. Comparing his role in Birdcage to Run, Fatboy, Run is like comparing a flamboyant, Puerto Rican homosexual to a bland, rich stock broker. OHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIT
Crocodiles.
I think if I had to, I could do well in a fight. I’ve been working out once a week for about a week now, and I feel ripped. I used to have the arms of a 12 year old Japanese girl. Now it’s a boy. All I’d need is a rubber band to keep my glasses on and I’m good to go. I’ve always been kind of wimpy. I’ve never even been in a fight. I mean, it’s called “fight or flight”; I have options. But thanks to Animal Planet I’ve discovered a 3rd option: bluffing. For one thing, it might actually work, but if it doesn’t, at least you’re getting your ass kicked for a reason.
Foooooooooood
Thursday, June 11, 2009
“Mommy, What’s a Jewish?”
Kids ask where Jews come from, and their parents answer.
“They are the shadows of midnight. They are unspeakable dark specters that haunt our dreams and spark our imagination. They are romantic yet emotionless. They are powerful and still they are vulnerable. They can be dreadfully scary and viscous, or gentle and kind. They have passionate feelings without emotion. They are ageless, although they each have an age. Jews. Throughout history, these beings have resided alongside man. Myths and folktales from all points of the globe speak of beings that feed on the living. From the Japanese Kasha to the Irish Dearg-Du and the Tlaciques of the Mexican Nahautl Indians and the Arabic Algul they exist. Germany alone has a minimum of three distinct types of Jews. These sinister creatures have permeated virtually every culture and time period, dating as far back as the Ekimmu of ancient Babylon and Assyria.” – Dr. Peter Witherspoon
“Well, a long time ago, an inventor lived in a mansion. He made many things, I suppose. He also created the first Jew. He gave him inside, a heart, a brain, everything. Well, almost everything. You see, the inventor was very old. He died before he got to finish the Jew he invented. So the Jew was left by himself, incomplete and all alone. Of course, he had a name. His name was Edward.” – Kim
“Jews are made when very large stars die. When the star runs out of fuel for nuclear burning in the core it is no longer able to support itself from collapsing under its own weight. The star first collapses and then the outer layers rebound to form a supernovae explosion. What's left at the core is an Neutron Star or a Jew depending on the initial mass of the star. To form a Jew the mass left at the core after the explosion must be more than about 3 times the mass of the Sun. The star for most of its life probably needs to be between 50 to 100 times the mass of the Sun to eventually form a Jew.” – Robert “Bubba” Byerley.
“Since the 1970's, Colombia has been home to some of the most violent and sophisticated human trafficking organizations in the world. What started as a small Jew smuggling business has, in the last thirty years, blossomed into an enormous multi-national Jewish empire. Traffickers today have enough capital under their control to build sophisticated smuggling equipment, such as a high tech submarine that was recently discovered by the Colombian National Police. Colombian Jew traffickers had hired engineering experts from Russia and the United States to help with the design of the submarine, which apparently would have been used to secretly ship large quantities of Jewishness to the United States.” – Carlos Lehder
“During the experimental detonation of a gamma bomb, scientist Bruce Banner rushes to save a teenager who has driven onto the testing field. Pushing the teen, Rick Jones, into a trench, Banner himself is caught in the blast, absorbing massive amounts of radiation. He awakens later in an infirmary, seeming relatively unscathed, but that night transforms into a lumbering green form that breaks through the wall and escapes. A soldier in the ensuing search party dubs the otherwise unidentified creature a “Jew”.” – Stan Lee
“My name is Bill. Yes, My name is Bill. And I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill. Well, it's a long, long journey to the capital city. It's a long, long wait while I'm sitting in committee. But I know I'll be a Jew some day. At least I hope and pray that I will but today I am still just old Bill.” – Bill
“They are the shadows of midnight. They are unspeakable dark specters that haunt our dreams and spark our imagination. They are romantic yet emotionless. They are powerful and still they are vulnerable. They can be dreadfully scary and viscous, or gentle and kind. They have passionate feelings without emotion. They are ageless, although they each have an age. Jews. Throughout history, these beings have resided alongside man. Myths and folktales from all points of the globe speak of beings that feed on the living. From the Japanese Kasha to the Irish Dearg-Du and the Tlaciques of the Mexican Nahautl Indians and the Arabic Algul they exist. Germany alone has a minimum of three distinct types of Jews. These sinister creatures have permeated virtually every culture and time period, dating as far back as the Ekimmu of ancient Babylon and Assyria.” – Dr. Peter Witherspoon
“Well, a long time ago, an inventor lived in a mansion. He made many things, I suppose. He also created the first Jew. He gave him inside, a heart, a brain, everything. Well, almost everything. You see, the inventor was very old. He died before he got to finish the Jew he invented. So the Jew was left by himself, incomplete and all alone. Of course, he had a name. His name was Edward.” – Kim
“Jews are made when very large stars die. When the star runs out of fuel for nuclear burning in the core it is no longer able to support itself from collapsing under its own weight. The star first collapses and then the outer layers rebound to form a supernovae explosion. What's left at the core is an Neutron Star or a Jew depending on the initial mass of the star. To form a Jew the mass left at the core after the explosion must be more than about 3 times the mass of the Sun. The star for most of its life probably needs to be between 50 to 100 times the mass of the Sun to eventually form a Jew.” – Robert “Bubba” Byerley.
“Since the 1970's, Colombia has been home to some of the most violent and sophisticated human trafficking organizations in the world. What started as a small Jew smuggling business has, in the last thirty years, blossomed into an enormous multi-national Jewish empire. Traffickers today have enough capital under their control to build sophisticated smuggling equipment, such as a high tech submarine that was recently discovered by the Colombian National Police. Colombian Jew traffickers had hired engineering experts from Russia and the United States to help with the design of the submarine, which apparently would have been used to secretly ship large quantities of Jewishness to the United States.” – Carlos Lehder
“During the experimental detonation of a gamma bomb, scientist Bruce Banner rushes to save a teenager who has driven onto the testing field. Pushing the teen, Rick Jones, into a trench, Banner himself is caught in the blast, absorbing massive amounts of radiation. He awakens later in an infirmary, seeming relatively unscathed, but that night transforms into a lumbering green form that breaks through the wall and escapes. A soldier in the ensuing search party dubs the otherwise unidentified creature a “Jew”.” – Stan Lee
“My name is Bill. Yes, My name is Bill. And I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill. Well, it's a long, long journey to the capital city. It's a long, long wait while I'm sitting in committee. But I know I'll be a Jew some day. At least I hope and pray that I will but today I am still just old Bill.” – Bill
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Laura Bush is Scary Looking
Talking about Bush and the straight-out-of-Hell past 8 years is soooooo 2008, but Michelle Obama makes a good point: the first lady is supposed to actually do shit. I don’t care what; just something.I’m not trying to make this political. This is not a “Republican women are pug-fugly” rant ‘cause Nancy Pelosi looks like she died 2 years ago. This is intended to be a critical evaluation on the role of women in high society and the burden of expectations they bare. And to gawk at Laura Bush’s face.
Before we talk about ol’ LB, I want to postulate that being the Queen of England is the worst fucking job. And before I elaborate on that, I want to state that Michael Jackson is the most miserable person on the planet (fact). A lonely, isolated life is what is thrust upon beautiful, regal women like the Queen and Michael Jackson; a price they must pay for being so goddamn famous. They are not so much people as they are delicate, faberge eggs that must be simultaneously adorned by and sheltered from the filthy, unwashed masses. They are basically objects.
(I say being the Queen is the worst job because even though she isn’t sucking dicks for drug money a-la Pretty Woman, she lives her entire life from birth ‘till death in an insulated bubble, 24 hours a day. At least crack whores take breaks and their life of whoring didn’t start until [child molestation joke])So is the story of Laura Bush. Primped and premed, betrothed to the Bush political dynasty, her job was to 1) stand there, 2) look pretty (emulate her mother-in-law and Nancy Reagan), and 3) churn out a slew of kids. She had 8 years to do shit being married to the most powerful man on the planet and all she did was start a book festival and wear red dresses (symbolizing menstruation or women’s health or something like that). That’s it.
What the fuck else was she to do? Stand around and look spooky. I have nothing left to say about her so I’ll let the photos of her plastic-like face speak for themselves. If I had access to photo editing software, and let’s be honest, the skills to use it, I would create a .gif of several photos of Laura Bush morphing into each other and leave you people shocked at how similar 
all the pictures are. 
Friday, June 5, 2009
My Personal Youtube Stash
Up until the 1950’s, kids would get up, go out and actually do stuff with their lives. I know. Fucking cave men, am I right? Thank god the 60’s rolled around, where they would do drugs all day instead. Then in the 70’s they would do drugs all day AND listen to music. The 80’s maxim was “get high and watch music videos!” (and the DOC shifted from weed to coke). And the 90’s were pretty much the same as the 80’s except it was heroin and the music videos were waaaaaaay shittier. Oh the times, they are a changin’.
Everyone these days knows of some quirky little video and just loves to share it with their unknowing friends. Being the one who pops a friend’s eye cherry is almost as good as being the person who actually made the video. I’m going to share with you some of my favorite youtube videos, so sit back, finish swallowing that handful of shrooms, and enjoy.
What do you get when you cross Alice in Wonderland with the Three Six Mafia? A movie the way God intended it to be. The best part is when the Cheshire Cat says “Get to fuckin’…”
This is so old. Everyone and their landlord have seen this video. I don’t care. It’s fantastic.
I joked that you should get high before watching these videos. Yeah, well, for this video that is a serious recommendation. Don’t go crazy. Just write “watch this video” on your hand, go pack a bowl, smoke the bowl, look at your hand and then come back. I’ll be waiting for you.
This video was not meant to be funny. They were aiming for “heartwarming” but somehow smacked the bulls eye on “mildly horrifying”. It’s in Spanish but don’t worry; stupidity transcends language barriers.
Half Life is a pretty popular video game. Alright, cool, I’ve never played it, but tons of people like it just fine. The story behind this video goes like this: a mentally retarded individual loves Half Life. He decides to write is own fan-fic. On top of reading like a 2nd grader wrote it, the script is filled with so many continuity, grammar and spelling errors it was deemed “impossible” to animate. Then along came a guy who had access to open-source animation skills and a whole lot of time on his hands…
I’d buy his artwork.
And finally we have the gayest thing on earth. No lie. Please watch it.
“Let’s do the fork in the garbage disposal.” Jesus Christ.
Everyone these days knows of some quirky little video and just loves to share it with their unknowing friends. Being the one who pops a friend’s eye cherry is almost as good as being the person who actually made the video. I’m going to share with you some of my favorite youtube videos, so sit back, finish swallowing that handful of shrooms, and enjoy.
What do you get when you cross Alice in Wonderland with the Three Six Mafia? A movie the way God intended it to be. The best part is when the Cheshire Cat says “Get to fuckin’…”
This is so old. Everyone and their landlord have seen this video. I don’t care. It’s fantastic.
I joked that you should get high before watching these videos. Yeah, well, for this video that is a serious recommendation. Don’t go crazy. Just write “watch this video” on your hand, go pack a bowl, smoke the bowl, look at your hand and then come back. I’ll be waiting for you.
This video was not meant to be funny. They were aiming for “heartwarming” but somehow smacked the bulls eye on “mildly horrifying”. It’s in Spanish but don’t worry; stupidity transcends language barriers.
Half Life is a pretty popular video game. Alright, cool, I’ve never played it, but tons of people like it just fine. The story behind this video goes like this: a mentally retarded individual loves Half Life. He decides to write is own fan-fic. On top of reading like a 2nd grader wrote it, the script is filled with so many continuity, grammar and spelling errors it was deemed “impossible” to animate. Then along came a guy who had access to open-source animation skills and a whole lot of time on his hands…
I’d buy his artwork.
And finally we have the gayest thing on earth. No lie. Please watch it.
“Let’s do the fork in the garbage disposal.” Jesus Christ.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Movin’ Pictures: Up
Here’s my beef with Disney, and by extension Pixar.They are both very, very, very good…at creating ambiance. That is the secret to their brilliance and success. They can create entire worlds that are nothing more than pallets of mood and memory designed to invoke deep seeded emotions within you. If you want to know what I mean, go to Disney Land. Every ride is designed with that in mind. On the Pirates of the Caribbean, you really are on a pirate ship circa 1790 and with it comes all the adventure. On the Briar Rabbit Splash Mountain ride, you step into the antebellum south and the beauty of nature. Their movies reflect broader tones, such as love, adventure, bravery and innocence.
On the other hand, Disney and Pixar can kiss my ass because they are a multi-billion, multi-national conglomerate rivaling oil companies who really couldn’t give a flying fuck if one of the fat, mouth-breathing troglodytes they deviously pander to gets run over by a bus in the parking lot of a theatre or Disney theme park. But what really gets me is after I see one of their movies (Up is good, by the way), after they spend an hour and a half pumping me full of thoughts of beauty and awe directed towards the world we live in, I have to go outside and face the fucking reality that I’m a bitter, mean spirited asshole living in a world where at least 4 billion people live below Mexico’s poverty line.
The more I like the movie, the more I look in the mirror and think “…shit..….”
Well, I’m feeling like quite the dickhead right about now.
Up has been garnering rave reviews, and I suppose that’s justified. It’s quirky and terribly sweet, with some humorous bits thrown in there. You can tell Pixar doesn't even have to try anymore. They’ve hit their stride. They know just the right mixtures, the right combinations of voice talent, story telling and visuals (it’d be retarded for me to even try to describe how, *sigh* again, Pixar made a visually terrific film) and can just crank this shit out.
The best part of the movie for me is the first 5 minutes. That’s the flashback to when the old man protagonist Mr. Fredricksen was a kid he met his polar opposite wife over their love of adventure. Then it shows them getting married, having a life, growing old together up until his wife dies. It’s a very classic and heart warming relationship that’s strange to watch in cartoon 3-D form. The only way I can cope with not having something that beautiful and pure in my life is to remind myself that the divorce rate in this country is 51% and that no one has had something like that. Ever. Relationships like that were cooked up in the ‘50’s as propaganda to fight against communists.
There were some problems, and maybe they are related. The first was that it was too short at just 1:36:00. Uh…yeah. [Joke]. The second is that the whole movie, especially the villain, seemed really tacked on. It went “plot, plot, plot, plot, pl-WOAH, crazy blast-from-the-past villain startin’ shit for no real rhyme or reason! Is he crazy? I don’t know! Let’s see where this takes us!” The only reason Charles Muntz (the villain) existed was to show how your heroes can be dicks, then, well, that’s pretty fucking confusing. Then the ending made no sense with Mr. Fredricksen acting as a surrogate father to that fat little Asian Boy Scout kid Russell.
Also, you know the story about the founding Pixar gurus sitting together at a lunch and they busted out the ideas for stuff that became Toy Story, Bugs Life, Monsters Inc., Finding Nemo and Wall-E, right? Those were all premeditated and fit some sort of idea they were aiming for. Up just seems like it was made because they had deadlines on their mortgages (note: all these guys are richer than God so they don’t actually have mortgages).
I give Up 7/10 corgis. Meh, I liked it.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Twiright
Yesterday, I challenged myself to write a fan-fic based on the dubiously popular vampire series Twilight. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Seriously; all I knew was that it was a romance story for tween girls who want to be Disney princesses but still have their bad boys too. It’s the same lazy logic that gave the world The Jonas Brothers and X-Treme Churches.The story is as follows: a mediocre looking girl ironically named Bella moves to a new town and inadvertently uses her bland personality to woo a vampire named Edward, who looks like some blowjob out of an American Eagle catalogue. Edward is a pansy because A) he only drinks animal blood and B) is a super powered entity that’s attracted to girls with zero redeeming qualities. Bad (real) vampires decide to hunt Bella, Edward stops them, and the movie ends with some PG-13 canoodling at the high school prom or some other stupid bullshit cliché. I mean, who cares right? This movie is nothing but recycled bits from 90210 and Are You Afraid of the Dark, so fuck it, throw one more cliché onto the pile. Go hog wild.
I was about to link a youtube clip but then I actually watched some and slipped into a coma. It was a defense mechanism. The screen will bombard your eyes with idiot-waves and your ears with the sounds of cats dying. This will trigger a parasympathetic reaction in your frontal cortex where it will undergo paralysis and eventually atrophy. You will retard yourself.
The fan-fic you are about to read stars the Japanese counterpoints to Bella and Edward: Sakura and Toyota. It is a typical day in biology class, as Sakura and Toyota are lab partners. Their teacher, Sensei Hiroshima, is comically annoyed at their awkward, baby-lamb-on-wobbly-legs romance. They are doing dissections today.
“Students!” shouted Sensei Hiroshima. “Lift surgery knife and slice frog.”
“Yes, sensei!” the class shouted back in perfect unison. They all attacked their specimens except for Sakura and Toyota. They were coyly flirting with each other.
“You cut frog, Toyota. I’m not so good biology student,” said Sakura sheepishly. She longingly stared into Toyota’s creepy albino-like eyes and turned away, covering her burning face with her hands. “Biology class is opportunity for great difficulties in life…” she muttered.
“My hearing dog powerful, Sakura. I’ll exchange mutilation with friendship of beautiful light hearted girl” Toyota said coolly, as he picked up the scalpel and drove it into the frog’s chest.
“Oh Toyota! You are real John Wayne superstar! If-“
“What is this shame?” shouted Sensei Hiroshima. “Sakura! Toyota! Have you finished honor killing of Sgt. Frog? You come to school for studying frog, not for dishonoring me and the friend of a near creature of the age.”
They replied back. “Yes, sensei!” Immediately their work finally began. They worked quietly until it was time to remove the heart. Toyota was about to sever the atria artery when Sakura grabbed his hand.
“Toyota, is this happening? You can’t remove heart of the tiny friend! How can love happen with no hearts?”
“Sakura, frog is dead.”
“But…” Sakura started. “So is Toyota. Toyota is dead! You are dead vampire guy!”
“Sakura! 1000 years of shame on your family! ” shouted Sensei Hiroshima.
They were in real trouble now. As with so many bulimics, Toyota eats when he gets nervous. He licked the blood off the scalpel unconsciously and grimaced at the formaldehyde taste. Hiroshima saw.
“It is you Toyota! You are influencing impetuousness and disgrace. I surely banish you. Leave!”
“The person who makes enemies with me also recruits it. Moreover, do not molest me on the person who knows my character! ”
“Your character is demons…” Hiroshima said through gritted teeth.
“He know!” squeaked Sakura.
“That’s finished! I will kill you good!” Toyota lunged into the air and flew head first towards Sensei Hiroshima, but Hiroshima was quick to respond. He clicked a button on his watch. Immediately a trap door opened beneath him and he slid down a long pipe into the cockpit of his F-16 Gundam fighter Sparkle Death.
“The youth of today are evil and have foolishness. Time…for…KIILLLLLLLLL!!!” And with that Sensei Hiroshima blasted out of his subterranean hanger, taking out half of the school, and engaged Toyota in a free-flying fist fight. It was total vampire vs. robot-plane thing; real heavy on some Matrix Revolutions type shit.
Sakura raced to the edge of what was left of her classroom, clutched her chest and stared up at the duel.
“Toyota! Stop! Being vampire, sun causes you great discomfort! Come back to me forever! I desire your romance!” But it was too late. Toyota flew directly into a sun beam. His skin burst into flames and he fell to earth limp. The fire eventually burnt itself out. With his body fully turned into black ash, he landed on the ground with a powdery thump, ashes scattering to the wind. The only things left of him were his Reeboks.
“Supersized homo jackass,” Sensei Hiroshima’s voice echoed out of Sparkle Death’s outboard speakers.
Sakura was beside herself. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. A piece of Toyota’s ash was picked up by a current and delivered right next to her ear.
“Sakura,” the ash whispered. “Do not burden yourself with grief. Pieces of me are inside you through contact love bite. I live inside your blood as happy vampire friend.” The ash blew away.
Sakura fell silent. On her surprisingly cold neck she felt the puncture wounds of two fang marks running red with blood. The blossoming of her heightened senses felt like dropping acid; she could see the most insignificant minutia and could smell the blood of everyone around her. She hungered for Hiroshima’s.
“Sensei…the revenge shall be of Toyota!”
Ready to destroy him, Sakura boldly stepped forward!
…into a sunbeam.
She immediately burst into flames and died on the spot as a pile of smoldering ash.
One of Toyota’s ashes whispered to one of Sakura’s. "Stupid retard baby,"
Send me an idea for a blog entry and I’ll make it happen. Forrealz.
Monday, June 1, 2009
June Blog Challenge
Alright, ya mooks.
I’ll be straight with you guys. Writing this blog is getting tougher and tougher. I’m running out of ideas. There are two, sure-fire ways to jumpstart the rusted-out 1954 Apache truck of a creative center in my brain: drugs and open challenges. I can’t do drugs at work, but I sure as shit can e-harass you. Hell, that’s practically what I get paid to do.
Some challenges are self-imposed Iron Man contests like Jared Stern's “Blog-o-Day in May” thing. F that S. My challenge will go like this:
HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT
Throw at me whatever random two word idea you have floating around in your cartoon-and-breakfast-cereal-addled mind and I will write a blog article about it that may or may not be based in humor. I’ve written everything from songs, to guides, to movie reviews, to short stories, to a series of name generators.
See this little comment part (down) here? Submit your terrible idea, like a Twilight fan-fic but all the characters are Japanese, down there at the bottom and by tomorrow you’ll be able to read it up on the big screen.
Actually, that’s not a terrible idea at all.
OK. Tomorrow I’m writing that Twilight fan-fic. I’m calling it Twiright.
I’ll be straight with you guys. Writing this blog is getting tougher and tougher. I’m running out of ideas. There are two, sure-fire ways to jumpstart the rusted-out 1954 Apache truck of a creative center in my brain: drugs and open challenges. I can’t do drugs at work, but I sure as shit can e-harass you. Hell, that’s practically what I get paid to do.
Some challenges are self-imposed Iron Man contests like Jared Stern's “Blog-o-Day in May” thing. F that S. My challenge will go like this:
HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT
Throw at me whatever random two word idea you have floating around in your cartoon-and-breakfast-cereal-addled mind and I will write a blog article about it that may or may not be based in humor. I’ve written everything from songs, to guides, to movie reviews, to short stories, to a series of name generators.
See this little comment part (down) here? Submit your terrible idea, like a Twilight fan-fic but all the characters are Japanese, down there at the bottom and by tomorrow you’ll be able to read it up on the big screen.
Actually, that’s not a terrible idea at all.
OK. Tomorrow I’m writing that Twilight fan-fic. I’m calling it Twiright.
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