Baley

Korgoth Of Barbaria Episode 1, Part 1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Korgoth_of_Barbaria

<{POST_SNAPBACK}> Trailer http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snakes_on_a_Train Move with the times, boys. The Future is awaiting.

La Grande Bouffe (The Grande Bouffe) Bleh. The Ninth Gate Okay, I love Polanski, he's the man, sure, a good director. What the hell happened at the end? I mean, come on, he should've finished it with Depp getting into the car, lighting his cigarette, inhaling. But no, we had to endure another pointless, rushed 10 minutes. Anyway, the movie's very entertaining, easy to follow, straight-forward and basically a pretty good way to spend a Saturday night. Oh and Roman's wife's one hot, uh, female specimen.

...ZZZ. No, you're a puzzled little fanboy because you were acting like a jerk about it, all barking and shrieking, jumping at the developer's throat with your demands and indignant ravings. Destroying the series' good name, aren't they? The bastards. But that's not why I commented on your fiery post, nah, I just fancied your original input into this world of flame. And I see you're insisting on staying, and thus not shooing, no biggie. Good luck, true believer and may your love for NWN never wither, for while humans come and go, it will forever be with you. I'm gonna take a nap, maybe go for a walk, pretentious posts filled with pretentious words and pretentious ideas give me the heebie-jeebies, especially when those posts are of my own making. Yikes, I think I'm contaminated, oh Gosh, what to do what to do.

Oh, I'm very good at sarcasm, terrific even, of course, that was a mere addendum to further a point, or just to exercise my vocabulary, I'd leave you to decide but I fear for your well-being, all that knowledge and wordy-bollocks, it might just make your little brain snap, I wouldn't want a death on my conscience, so yes, I do have a point, and I have not even for a moment forgotten it underneath this game of words and mirrors, oh yes, you're a boring fanboy, with nothing interesting to say, so please, be a gent and shoo. This short message was brought to you by The Baley Corporation. Now available in both Victorian English and Kirundi. We hope you enjoyed our sample and wish a warm, refreshing afternoon, sipping champagne and dancing the Tango.

I'm sorry, but you see, there's a problem here and that problem's you, yes, I'm sure you're a perfectly nice chap in real life, maybe even own a dog, you a dog person? Anyway, I've seen this happen before and trust me, it's always the quiet ones, there's a disease nowadays called fanboyitis, you might've heard it referred to as FPRS (Fanboy Post-Release Syndrome) or "general assholery in regards to the patient's object of affection", that's a little in-joke of ours, net-medical-specialist, shush. What this "disease" does is cause the infected creature, God help his soul, to blurt nonsensical gibberish, drivel or hogwash, to bolt his eyes and ears shut, metaphorically speaking obviously, to the world out large and repeat his outdated mantra ad nauseam out of an honest, heartfelt love. You see the problem with fanboyitis is that, well, it's bloody annoying, see, it doesn't only affect the carrier man-thing, it also makes the surrounding children|adults manifest loudly as if some tit had just shouted drivel in their, metaphorical, right ear. Which incidentally just happened. And, yes, I do own some dice, but they're the usual variety, I've refrained from participating in obscure nerdom rituals. Did me some good, I'd wager.

Mother related insults, oh my, we've surely reached a new high in internet-bickering, such originality, such grace, I've seen many flamers, but you, kid, you're a true great, one of the last unfortunately, for while other age and grow, you're destined to remain a schlocky schlock oozing ADD power-monkey, paws of steel, now please, benchmark me to eternity, you AD&D-loving, red-blooded hunk of man, why I bet those ladies in your village|town|city dream only of you, you and your golden 20-sided dice, bling-bling, the ladies dream, bling-bling.

Let your inner gayness flow like rivers of detritus, frozen by our thirst for the game of wee-wee chugging. Waiter, I want a fresh Malaysian boy, on the double. Man, I know how Arthur C. Clarke must've felt, poor bastard.

This is the single greatest|funniest thing I've ever seen.

No, I merely stated they belong to me and me alone, I no commie, I no shar-ee. Now, sell and buy, that's my kind of thing.

Assumptions are a modern plague.

Dude, I mean no ill by this and love you like the brother I never had nor wanted, but I reckon those smilies do nothing but enhance K-Man's negativity, it's an internet thing, the roll-eyes guy just bugs you the wrong way, you know? So, yeah, those might be part of the problem, then again, maybe both of you are having a bad day, that too sometimes happens. Your initial comment struck me as a bit too anal, and I don't think you were aiming for that at all. Now hug, kiss and join me in our eternal love for buff-oiled men mocking each other for fat dineros. Life's too big a bitch to waste on flaming. Against Me! - Cliche Guevara.

Every day's a gay day when you're having fun. Unfortunately, the contents of my pants, and their mysterious haunting secrets, belong to me and me alone. Though I would say, I'm almost always happy to see grown men bitchslap each other, fall to the floor in submission and cry and whine like the gothic lolitas they are. Now, forced gender-relocation surgery for all, how bout it? Sure-fire idea. A day in girlish pants would likely prove rewarding for all them macho boys hiding in spotlight-obscurity.

TNA Lockdown 2006 So, I was waiting for The Magnificent Ambersons to start, flipping channels like a madman, when all of a sudden I hit the holy grail of entertainment. Wrestling on Eurosport, now, I ain't that big a wrestling fan (I've seen about 4 matches since they started airing them) but when it comes to pure unrepentant fun, there's nothing better. An onslaught of oiled chiseled macho-men doing all kinds of goofy moves, playing around with each other's crotches, faking punches and pumping steroids. Anyway, I basically just caught the Cage-Abyss ass-craving-hidden-behind-heterosexual-bitchslapping-round, and I'm once more forced to quote wikipedia, Simply the most hilarious, absurd, show I've seen in months, it was just, uh, fabulous. 80s Action is alive and well. The Magnificent Ambersons Boring, vapid melodrama, the studio was right to shred it, a mess, some great direction, some dreadful acting, a bore. The ballroom scene was almost great, well, Welles can direct, that's for sure, but his script here leaves a lot to be desired, note that I ain't just talking about the scenes the studio honchos touched with their hands of gold. Frankly, I'd rather watch a Wrestling match, have some fun, maybe drink a beer or two and stare at my bulging gut, I'd feel better about myself. There's good dreg and there's bad dreg, yeah, I'd wanna sleep on this most intense epiphany, get it out of my system real quick.

Son, you've just about grown a full blow uterus in mere seconds|minutes. Congrats, for I see we truly be* in the presence of a master, my tears, flowing like roses on powdered crack, belong only to you. Kiss. Kiss. Hug. Hug. Tom Waits - Jockey Full Of Bourbon, from Jim Jarmusch's Down By Low, the very first shot, expanding. * Intended.

Oh boy, it's always the quiet ones. Austerlitz (The Battle of Austerlitz) Bleh.

It's the boogieing, isn't it? I always go a little too far.

I give you now Professor Twist, A conscientious scientist, Trustees exclaimed, "He never bungles!" And sent him off to distant jungles. Camped on a tropic riverside, One day he missed his loving bride. She had, the guide informed him later, Been eaten by an alligator. Professor Twist could not but smile. "You mean," he said, "a crocodile." The Purist - Ogden Nash

Sure, it's absolutely hilarious and you can be my plunderbunny afterwards. <3 <3 Unfortunately, there's not much to rob, but you can put that cute rabbit suit on, ala The Shining, and boogie till dawn. Yes, I know the Shining suit was actually bear-shaped, no biggie, furries are all the same deep down. Don't judge.

Ever seen Querelle?

Bananas Sleeper was Woody's first consistently funny flick, I mean, sure, the Kierkegaard joke is hilarious, the liberal vagina an annoying bitch and thus absolutely perfect, but, dear God, does it drag. On and On and On, I almost fell asleep, great quotes though, Fielding Mellish: I love Eastern philosophy. It's... it's metaphysical, and redundant. Abortively pedantic. Nancy: I know just what you mean! Fielding Mellish: That's very wise, you know...? That's, I think, pithy. Nancy: It was pithy. It had... great pith. Fielding Mellish: Yeth. Pith. The Killing Almost perfect, in fact, I don't think there's anything wrong with it, but hey, repetitive viewings+nitpicking'll probably do the trick, anyway, it's intense, smart, the script's great and, well, it's a Kubrick, what can I say, the man could direct. His best film? Full Metal Jacket If you actually think this film's about the "Jungian Thing", well, hun, you're a pretentious prick who'd better keep his opinions to himself, or else, yeah, or else, I dunno, just keep your commie lies away from my freshly sponged earlobes, the movie's about poontang, plain and simple. Oh yeah, the second part's better than the first and Ermey's the man. Animal Farm Pretty good adaptation|fable|parable|whatever, reckon it should be showed in schools, from an early age, get the little buggers politicised and clean of all them dirty utopian dreams, oh yeah, the added junk at the end was unnecessary. The Conversation Oh man, the 70s, Hackman was the man and Coppola could still, you know, direct. Really really good, more than a match for the Godfathers and Apocalypse Now, one of best endings in all cinema, the last shot is just bloody perfect. Querelle I think Fassbinder called this his most important film, highly theatrical, multiple narrators, some great acting, buff half-naked sailors doing what buff half-naked sailors do best, some really hot scenes, Hanno P

Yeah, but I reckon I need a break, my vagina's reaching the size of Texas, engulfing Arkansas as we progress in our quest for girlish enlightenment, well, it's not like anyone actually cares for Arkansas, I guess we can, still, look at the sky, whisper our prayers, hold hands and sing along to the moody wailings of New York lesbos. Kindly rotate, switch partners and commence the boogie-woogieing. Buggery is so last century.

I like her voice. Shut up. I think I'm growing a vagina. And it don't feel too good.