Hey! That hot Jewish chick stole my brushes!
Paul Stanley, 70′s rock god and the world’s second most closeted homosexual guitarist (behind Kirk Hammett), can now add another illustrious credit to his name. Artist. Not sure when this happened, but The Starchild has taken up painting, and if you want my opinion, the stuff ain’t half terrible. Sure, it’s got a Navajo primary school thing going on, but I’d hang it on my refrigerator. You can check it out HERE.
And I call this one, “Old Gregg”
Won’t be long, mark my words…
That’s right, I said it. I don’t care how hot you were beforehand, keep that shit covered. Seriously. You are gross. No one wants to see where you are incubating Louis Skolnick’s love child.
Not so lovable as to prevent stepson Macaulay Culkin from demanding satisfaction for all the whippings he sustained as a child. It would be the ensuing duel that would result in the eventual loss of poor Granny O’Neal’s leg. For shame, little Macaulay! Even after you ineptly fire your pistol into the ground whilst cocking the hammer and Granny O’Neal lovingly does the same to spare your life, you still claim satisfaction has not been met.
Despite the fact she married your mother, the Lady Lyndon, out of a desire for wealth and nobility, she was a good father. Sure, she squandered your family’s fortune and subjected you to humiliating beatings, but what was an old lady to do? You were a whelp and an upstart. No one is denying she favored her own son by your mother, Bryan Patrick, who by all accounts was a spoiled, flaxen haired dandy fop. That is not to be disputed. But couldn’t you have at least tried to make it work? For your mother’s sake?
Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon is the story of a young man in love with his cousin who goes on to become a sweet Irish grandmother by way of gambling raconteur. She eventually marries her way into nobility and becomes involved in a sadomasochistic relationship with stepson Macaulay Culkin. The end. Four Netflix Stars.
Like a thick, gurgling torrent of crude, bursting forth into the sky from that makeshift wooden phallus, so is my excitement for this film. Not only does it star the phenomenal Daniel Day-Lewis, who statistically performs better when combined with a mustache and a silly accent; not only was it shot by the great Robert Elswit, Oscar nominated cinematographer of Trick or Treat and Gigli; but it also features a score by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood, who is riding In Rainbows to a pot of gold like some sort of British leprechaun. Not enough for you? Check out the brand new trailer below.
Click image for new trailer
Posted in Books, Daniel Day-Lewis, Facial Hair, Film, Jonny Greenwood, Music, Oil!, Paul Thomas Anderson, Politics, Radiohead, Religion, There Will Be Blood, Upton Sinclair