So does he feel even a slight bit of relief to find out that this apparent potential bridge jumper is merely a stranded motorist? Nope, Crankshaft is pissed. This is what he gets for being a nice guy. For someone who’s having the “worst day of her life”, Susan’s demeanor has brightened until she’s as chipper as Crank is cranky.
Tag Archives: dinner
Yes, what Marianne needs to realize is that no matter what the outcome may be, her career and her life are both effectively over, as the whole Oscars thing (and the entire entertainment industry as a whole) is a giant sewer of lies, deceit and trampled dreams. But it’s OK, as whaddya gonna do?
What she also doesn’t realize is that they have these things called brushes and combs nowadays, as well as a plethora of various sprays, gels and pastes that keeps your hair from getting all ratty and unkempt while you’re out and about. It seems peculiar that a woman her age, in her business, wouldn’t be aware of the existence of these things, but whaddya gonna do?
This arc sure got really annoying really quickly, didn’t it? The irony of BatHam droning on about the inequities and pitfalls of showbiz awards wasn’t lost on me, as it’s pretty much a recurring theme at this point. Perhaps he should try to win an award for something, THEN run his mouth, like how you’re supposed to do.
And on that note, I’m outta here until April Fools Day, when I’ll be going into detail about the Department Of Justice’s crusade against SoSF. Up next, the Captain himself, TF Hackett!
Seriously, can you imagine John Hurt going through all that agony, and out pops a little Les Moore? Which screams “Endings have to be earned!” before scooting off to hide in the ductwork? And it then confronts Harry Dean Stanton and says “I am the lord of language, and you are my acolytes!” The crew of the Nostromo would be screaming, “Please! Tear our brains out instead!”
I mean, I get shivers just thinking about it! I’m going to leave the lights on tonight, but I don’t think I’ll ever go to sleep again!
Other than that, my God is Les being a little sh!t. Yes, I know he’s a douchebag deluxe (indeed, a douchebag supreme), but Mason is supposedly a friend. If someone were to treat me the way Les is treating Mason, I’d make my excuses and avoid that person. And of course, avoiding Les Moore is always a great strategy to employ.
On a serious note, Mr. Batiuk–when you’re offering a decidedly inferior product to your audience, it’s very unwise to remind them that there are superior entertainments out there that are much more worthy of their time.
“When I told Bull I was going to introduce him, it really showed what a crappy friend I am, just making major decisions for Bull and not even giving him any input. I mean, I am his friend, right? That’s the word for a guy who just starts showing up at your house after you get CTE and spends a lot of one-on-one time with your wife? Where’s that dweeby English teacher whose annoying wife died, maybe he can tell his what the right word for that is. Oh, right, he didn’t show up, because apparently I’m the only one in Bull’s life who gives a crap about him. Like when I lied to him to make him think he won a game he actually lost. Gosh, good thing that never came up in any awkward situation later on.”