You almost get your revolver out fast enough to subdue James Bond, and show everyone that experience counts more than a dearth of love handles.
Mysterious Ways -- U2: “Man, music today is just insufferable. Back in my day, the FANS were supposed to be insufferable!”
I was unable to tell if it was the machine or I who was screaming as I was jostled unpleasantly amid black smoke and splattering whale jelly.
Sorry, I can’t join your ragtag militia of freedom fighters, Mr. Buendía, I’m busy fighting to free my mind of institutionalized perceptions of truth and justice.
Every morning, I wake up and eat a motivational quote for breakfast sprinkled with positive-flavored hemp seeds.
Is it really necessary to go through the garbage can? Yes, I see the notes you’ve found. They’re also from my mother.
Me, get into bed on my own? No, I simply must be picked up and tossed like a doll before unleashing these surprisingly-supple breasts!
Yet another advantage she has over me and my perpetually degrading corporeal being that needs stupid shit like food and water and exercise and love.
Within the first thirty seconds, there is a close-up of a microphone. This quickly establishes that this is a singing movie, about big singers.
You can bet that Alfonso Cuaron is winning Best Director for Roma. It’s as plain as the socks that are still on my feet, babe.
Oh, Christian Bale, nominated for playing a 60-year-old man with a potbelly who only thinks about himself. Your father could have played that role.
Which teen heartthrob is the spitting image of someone you went to high school with but you can’t place? He definitely looks like someone… but who?