I have really backed myself into a corner with this one. It’s literally the worst thing when you don’t have the internet at your disposal at all times. Society comes to a halt, you start sweating, and you start fighting within yourself whether or not newspapers still exist (they don’t right?). Plus I wouldn’t be able to write this blog, so you know that’d lead to mass suicides throughout America, some parts of India, and one house in Antarctica—what up you sly Eskimo motherfuckers. It’d be like if the oil spill happened on land, except, like 3 times worse. Sad thing is that I would most certainly deal with this experience rather than seeing Zac Efron beating up black dudes, turning two with a ghost, and sailing around the world for 110 minutes.
I mean, my God, this movie looks legitimately bad. The guys over at the Razzies are sweating bullets writing this movie down in roughly 29 categories. It’s almost impressive really. The producer of this film single-handedly destroyed my love of children (they’re dumb, but I love them), bar-fights, the song “Airplanes”, romantic-comedies, dramas, comedies, and reaffirmed my hatred for all things water-related. Pretty effective if you were trying to commit movie genocide. Just have a straight land fire shit right here. Movie makes me want to vomit in my own pass out.
Have a splendid weekend. I’m sick as shit, but I’m still going to rage in the backwoods of Upstate NY.
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