You generous fucks made Clint n' me watch the Nicholas Sparks adaptation with the ghost. Seriously. A fucking ghost. In a Nicholas Sparks movie. Christ. (SPOILER)
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You kindly sadists had us watch a 1994 video game adaptation that is quite poor, but oh so very 1994 in every conceivable way.
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In the first Great Catch-Up piece in a very long time I write admiringly of 2017’s overachieving The Cult of Chucky.
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In honor of the boy band-centric Turning Red , I am re-running a piece (compiled in The Joy of Trash) about disgrace boy band Svengali Lou Pearlman’s deranged and deluded memoir.
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Whoopi. Basketball. Dennis Rodman. The Donald. Are you not entertained?
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“I’m just going to take you and bite your booty in the back of my truck.”
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I’m feeling a whole lot less hopeless now that Kamala Harris has replaced President Biden as the Democratic presidential candidate.
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When it comes to pop culture representation of life on the spectrum, it doesn’t get worse or more insulting than Fred Durst’s deplorable 2019 psychodrama The Fanatic.
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My new permanent teeth and the GoFundMe to help pay for them sure give me something to smile about beyond my teeth no longer being an abomination!
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If you spend too much time online, you’ve undoubtedly encountered weird apologists for people who’ve done horrible things who insist on everyone giving the accused—but only the accused—benefit of the doubt.
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