What the fuck is this fucking shit? Avengers crushes the record for opening weekend gross? They took the record that I earned with my blood, sweat, and cinematic seminal fluids from me?
You come at me, Michael Bliz-ow Bli-zay, the one summer I take off to gather my strength to make a comedy and prep for Transformers 4: a World without Shia, and you think I wouldn’t notice?
You think you’re the fucking king of summer, Avengers? You think Bliggity Bay get soft?
Now you want to run around, talking about breakdancing robots tearing each other arms off, like I ain’t got none? You think I sold them all, just because I’m well off?
Think you can talk that shit like it won’t get back to me? Like I’m not everywhere?
Motherfuckers think you can forget about Bay?
War, it is.
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If there was a fantasy football game with movies instead of athletes, I’d play it (already working on it, internet). And in my drafting of movies, I would’ve picked The Green Hornet as a sure failure. I was wrong. Despite every conceivable sign, it took number one at the box office.
A few conceits; it was going against nothing new but The Dilemma, a Kevin James/Vince Vaughn comedy where the titular dilemma is whether or not to tell your best friend his wife is cheating on him with Channing Tatum. The answer is “Yes” everytime. No question. How is that even up for debate? Even if the wife threatens you with death; you go to the cops, get into the witness protection program, and watch all 20 seasons of ”Dr. Who” in your government-funded safehouse. Then you murder Channing Tatum and dump his body in a river. That’s what happens to strippers. No one ever feels bad about that. Read the rest of this entry