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Can’t. Fucking. Wait,


You've got to be fucking kidding me...

I have to admit two things to you before I go off on this rant:

1.) I have yet to see “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra,” so it’s possible (though highly unlikely) that I’ll have to apologize for this post at a later date… if I ever see it… which I probably won’t.

2.) I love G.I. Joe. Or, more accurately, I used to love G.I. Joe. When I was a kid, G.I. Joe was my top pick when it came to cartoons and toys. I loved it so much that when I was ten years old I remember thinking, “When I get my first car, I’m going to get ‘GI JOE’ on a personalized license plate.” Because, you know, that would have gotten me laid. He-Man was a little too fantasy for me, and Transformers were just too goddamn expensive. G.I. Joe action figures, however, were only $3 each (at their most expensive), so over time I ended up collecting more than a hundred Joes and Cobras. Of course, I sold all of them for next to nothing in the late eighties, but whatever. I got an entire childhood out of those action figures, so I can’t complain.

Now, if you’ll excuse me… ahem: So Paramount Studios isn’t showing early screenings to the press for “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra.” Wow. Big fucking shock there.

Want an even bigger shock? Harry Knowles, the bearded face of Ain’t It Cool News, dug it. Of course, Knowles loves everything (especially if it’s covered in nacho cheese) because Hollywood just loves putting his wiener in its mouth.

Ugh. I just threw up all over my keyboard. Give me a minute.

Okay, back.

Fact is, I don’t need to see this movie to know that it’s utter dog shit, and the fact that Knowles likes it just proves my point.

“But, Shady,” you might try to reason with me, “you can’t say something like that without having seen it!” And to that I say this: “Did you have to see ‘Paul Blart: Mall Cop’ to know it was cinematic AIDS, motherfucker?” No. You knew from the first second of the first trailer that it was going to be shit.

With that being said, I’ll admit that Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow look pretty spot-on. And Baroness, eh… it’s hard to fuck up Baroness.

But what the fuck happened with every other character?!?

So here are a few questions I have for Paramount, just based off what I’ve seen so far of this impending train wreck:

1. Why does Hawk look like my fucking dad at a French gay pride parade?

2. Where the fuck is Destro’s metal mask? And why is he white? Every kid knows Destro is black under that helmet, just like Darth Vader. And Rowlf from the Muppets.

3. Where’s Cobra Commander’s mask? Hell, where the fuck is Cobra Commander?!? I know the Scientist (played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt) becomes him, but a Cobra Commander by any other name and without a metal mask or a cloth hood just doesn’t cut it.

4. How much weight did Will Arnett have to gain to play fat Zartan (also known as Fartan)?

5. And lastly, was raping the childhoods of millions of kids from the eighties something you set out to do, or did it just happen organically along the way?

You know what the worst part of all of this is? This diarrhea will go on to make $300 million, just like the ocular rape that was “Transformers 2: Electric Jigaboo.”

Fuck, I wish I had my toys back. At least those were pure!

Well, all of them except William “The Refrigerator” Perry. That figure was just creepy.

Knowing is half the battle… and apparently destroying memories is the other half,


…the movie “Wristcutters: A Love Story.”

I remember seeing the preview for it a couple years ago, but we came across it last night in the “Free Movies” section on On Demand and decided to finally check it out.

It’s seriously brilliant.

The short of it is this: It takes place in a world where the entire population is made up of people who have committed suicide.

It has everything: life, death, love, Tom Waits, a black hole that exists only under a passenger-side car seat, impossible smiles, Will Arnett, a traitorous dog, and an amazing soundtrack.

I never say this because I usually don’t care about the whole theater experience of seeing a movie, but this is one I regret not having seen in a theater.

And the film’s shining star is actor Shea Whigham who plays Eugene, a failed musician who killed himself onstage by spilling a beer on his electric guitar. I hadn’t heard of Whigham before, and after looking him up online he hasn’t appeared in anything else I’ve seen, but I’m definitely going to be on the lookout for him in the future.

So avoid most of the Oscar-worthy “must sees” this month and instead stay inside with a rental of “Wristcutters.” It’s a feel-good movie. Seriously.

Here’s the trailer:

I’d do it with pills,


Old Poop!