Hey, T Mills? See this corny motherfucker?
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/55/Elvis_presley.jpg/220px-Elvis_presley.jpg
See that old dude? He subsided off of amphetamines and peanut butter, and once wandered (unannounced, mind you) into the White House with a FUCKING GUN, and presented it to the President:
http://i35.tinypic.com/j927uq.jpg
So put the Malibu back in your parent's pantry, you unoriginal cocksucker and calm the fuck down. You'll be much cooler.
Right: a flat-topped, smug jackass who, when he's not boring the shit out of me with his glorified karaoke contests, spends his days lactating on the French Riviera.
Left: An American idol.
And how convenient of Gabe to forget the time he mashed down the deceleratrix, screeched up to the apothecary window, and gesticulated wildly over the absence of his precious, precious opium.
*Naomi fires her RAZR across the courtroom, striking opposing counsel in the head*
Counsel: "Your Honor, this is highly unusual!"
Judge: "No it isn't."
Ah. I see.
For some reason I pictured a montage of you and some old slumlord buying ice cream cones and throwing frisbees and rolling around with puppies.
"The quasi-Rick Rubinesque of the poster transcends the film's mediation on the zeitgeist of blah blah blah blah blah Animal Collective side-project blah blah blah blah 8.6." - Pitchfork
I'm going to try and explain this whole ordeal to my grandmother, just for fun.
"So this one chick fights off her violent rapist, right?"
"Good god."
"And her concerned yet androgynous brother is all upset and whatnot."
"...okay."
"Yeah, that's about it. I love you Grandma."
"Please just go."
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