Top 10 Things I'll Never Get for Christmas
Every year, late November, my wife starts asking me what I want for Christmas. Every year I make a list so ridiculous she starts considering divorce again. Last year I wrote down three things on a Post-it note and left it on her pillow. This is what it said: 1) A life size bust of Salma Hayek's bust for my desk. 2) A full size rubber Gamera costume to write my articles in (Also, you must periodically surprise attack me wearing a full size rubber Godzilla costume. We monster-fight for a minimum of ten mintues and I always win). And 3) GHOSTBUSTERS 3, before one of them dies. It was a well thought out list. I got socks. This year I decided to expand and turn it into a Ten Spot, killing two birds with a single, self-gratifying stone. So dear, if you`re reading this, consider yourself served. Get that ass to the fantasy mall in the sky and try stuffing some of these f*ckers under the tree.
I don't know what it is with this thing. I think I've found an excuse to bring it up in an article at least once a year since I started here. I don't even have a DVD player that plays these things. I guess I just want it to sit on my shelf and look awesome. I can pet it, feed it kittens, and talk some serious shit to it when Mr. Boozy comes over for a visit.
Speaking of Mr. Boozy, who better to dance around the house with when you're shit-faced than The Blues Brothers? These two life-sized imaginary friends could make even my most boring night into a sad, self-hating jamboree. Just add moonshine and a Bee Gees cassette.
I love my poker buddies but the shit is getting tired. Every month it's the same old story, the room smells like farts, we argue about our softball team, and people contemplate fantasy football trades as I get my ass handed to me by pocket aces (f*ck you Steve). How sweet would it be to sit all night and listen to stories about old school Jason Mewes snorting coke off the ass crack of a Jersey Shore whore? We could just mic him up, give him a dish towel to wipe up his unusual amount of sweat off the cards, and let him wax poetic all night.
The reason I won't be getting that bad boy above is because it's sold out. Not hard to figure out why either. These things are for fanboy pimps, the type of guys and gals that build their own lightsabers, believe in Hobbits, and tattoo the rules of FIGHT CLUB on their neck. Also known as psychos.
My obsession grows and grows each day. I'm a huge BLAIR WITCH PROJECT fan and people trying to eat other people (be it zombies or virus) is a plot device I hold dear to my heart. Throw the two together and you've got a movie I need to see. What I'm asking here is an exclusive print of the movie, complete with English subtitles, flown over to my local Cineplex where there will be a private screening (just me) over the holidays. There's no North American release date for this thing and I'm not in the mood for any more remakes. If you wonder why people download shit, here it is.
What a f*cking douche this guy is. If you didn't follow his whole boxing fiasco last year click here and scroll to the bottom. Too much work? Let me sum it up for you - Uwe makes the three of the worst movies ever in a row. Critics all over the world hate them. Uwe finds the smallest, least trained guys of said critics and challenges them to a boxing match where he beats them silly. So, instead of making better films and taking to heart the overall feelings of an entire planet, Uwe decides this will make people like him more. You are a sad pathetic retard Mr. Boll. I can't hate your films any more than I do so please, PLEASE, invite me down for one of your public relation beat-downs. It's either this or you stop making films that make my eyes bleed you ridiculous bucket of f*ck. BLOODRAYNE 2, give me a f*cking break.
$300,000. That's what it's going to cost to have the ability to ride a roller coaster in your driveway. Or take a trip into space from your back yard. My edition is going to be tweaked a little. I want to experience light-speed while sitting in the Falcon. I want to run from a T-Rex while visiting Jurassic Park. I want to be in the room when Catherine Tramell (Sharon Stone) crosses her legs. I wonder what kind of motion that would simulate. This bitch fits eight people and is delivered in four weeks so get on it.
I might as well get a waterproof laptop and call in some sick days at work because my ass wouldn't be leaving this haven for weeks. Not even to pee. I'd like it a little more secluded though, like in my basement, so the mixture of porn and rhythmic splashing doesn't wake the neighbours. Imagine, for a second, how wrinkly my nuts would be after a LORD OF THE RINGS marathon in this whore. Awesome.
Is there any better way to watch The Trilogy? Shove a DVD up it's ass and watch your entire wall light up with some legendary Lucas. Imagine how small the projectionist is in there. I wonder what kind of work C-3PO is getting. And just when you thought this thing couldn't get any cooler, check out the remote.
This is the coolest thing I've ever seen. Not only can you get away from the ignorant assholes that infest public theatres to watch your films, you get to do it in a f*cking bat cave. Who has this much money? What do you have to do for a living to have this built in your basement? Think about it, Batman doesn't even have this set up.