The Eight-thousand-pound BM

17 05 2008

Believe it or not, but I just sat still for two-and-a-half hours while an old man shat all over me. With the exceptions of Ghost Rider and Spiderman 3, Iron Man was the cheesiest, corniest load of next-generation superhero crap ever dumped on America. Holy shit.


Don’t get me wrong—I like Robert Downey Jr. He’s a good actor who seems to have a taste for the edge work that I so enjoy (mostly destruction of property and abuse of prescription narcotics), but no man should be subjected to watching Stan Lee sweat through what had to be the jagged-peanut ass-ripper of a lifetime. Fuck you, you old cocksucker.


Let this be my last word on the subject, then: I will never see another Stan Lee movie ever ever again. I don’t care if Samuel L Jackson is in the damn thing. It isn’t worth it.




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