I wish somebody would have chopped this guys hands off before he died. I simply couldn't get past the cheesy premise of this movie. I wish the brain tumor made him too retarded to write, or he would have had his hands chopped off instead. I mean look at the picture Hillary Swank looks dumb not heartbroken.
I don't even know who crapped out this movie. I am an Irish guy let me sing like a leprechaun and really love my wife. Oh crap I'm dying let me write her some letters, so she can be guided. It'll really inspire her and everyone. Life is grand go out and live.
Oh crap, P.S I love you. Go to Ireland, sing in a bar and do a lot of crap that isn't relevant to getting over me. I just want to send you constant reminders and make your life a living hell. Finally, you'll put a gun to your head blow out the brain tumor that is this movie and join me in heaven. Wait I'll have to transfer to hell then we will really be happy. I here it is hot down there all year round I'll sing an Irish Jig about this.
Well to some up, I don't think this movie is really worth seeing. Sorry, about writing as if I were the Irish guy with no warning. Somebody go give that widow the bone.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
P.S. I Love You Movie Review
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Unprofessional Blogging at its best.
WHY???
I Got What America Needs Right Here
By Jimmy Carter
January 9, 2008 |
The Onion Issue 44•02
Sometimes I’m a little stupid, maybe, a little slow in the head, so I’m wondering if you can help me get something straight. Maybe you can help me understand one fucking thing right now, America, and explain to me what in the Christ is going on here. ‘Cause, unless I’m missing something, this country is in the middle of a motherfucking shitstorm, and I have no fucking idea what you’re gonna do to get out of it. I mean, are you seriously considering voting for one of these shitbags you got here in ‘08? Fat fucking chance.
Way I see it, America needs a president who’s gonna somehow un-royally screw up the Middle East, do some serious cleaning up after you dropped your pants and took a steaming dump all over the fucking environment, and—boom!—restore dignity, honor, and all that shit to these United States.
See, I got solutions to all your problems—I got ‘em right here in my big, hairy ballsack.
You better get down on your hands and knees and kiss Jimmy Carter’s rosy-red Georgia-peach-picking ass and beg me to run your fucking country again, because there’s no way I’m ever gonna come to you fuck-knobs and politely ask you if I might please be a presidential candidate in your precious fuckin’ election. So you can just bite my cock. I’ve had it with you jerkoffs and your jerkoff candidates.
You actually seem to think one a’ these assholes is gonna prance in and wave a magic wand and make everything all nice again. Look at you, sitting there like a common fucking schnook and eating all their bull about bi-fucking-partisanship, and how they have all the goddamn answers. Let me tell you something: These fags are dogshit compared to Jimmy fucking Carter, all right? I was arbitrating Mideast crises when this bunch was still sucking on their mamas’ titties.
But who comes to me, huh? Fucking nobody. Why ask old Jimmy anything? What the fuck could he know about peace in the Middle East? It’s not like he fucking won the Nobel Peace Prize for that shit. You myopic pricks. Back in ‘79, I sat Sadat and Begin right down and made those two dicklicks shake hands. It was beautiful—I had all the pieces lined up and I smiled and waved in my best fucking suit and tie right there on TV. And what do you do, you pieces of shit? You screw the whole goddamn pooch.
Cocksuckers.
Oh, what’s that I hear? The weather’s all screwy? You got a global warming problem? Boo-fucking-hoo! I was telling you morons to turn off your lights and unplug all your shit at night to conserve energy in 19-fuckin’-75, for chrissake. Gee, I wonder what woulda happened if we’d all switched to solar power like I fucking did back when we had a fucking chance to do something about it. Think we’d still be sucking Saudi Arabia’s dick like a five-dollar whore? I sure as fuck didn’t get no fancy Oscar for that little spiel, though, did I? No. But Al Gore, that cum-sucking pig, steals the shit from me and now he’s the greatest thing since Jesus Christ made a fucking sandwich.
Well, he can lick my asshole right after George W. Bush, that fuck.
You want compassion? Somebody who’s looking out for the little guy? Why don’t you take a look at Jimmy Carter, ’cause unlike, oh, every motherfucking candidate out there, he spent the last fucking quarter-century building houses for the homeless. And what does he get for it? A fucking hernia. Some fucking gratitude, you selfish twats. You talk to me about compassion? I’ll shove a crucifix so far up the Democrats’ asses they’ll be asking me to buy them dinner and kiss them good night.
Funny thing about me: I actually fucking know shit! Not like these goombas trying to weasel their way into the White House. I practically wrote the book on collapsing bridges, inflation, and the working poor, fuck-o. I even got a degree in nuclear engineering or some shit. You know how easy I could swoop down right now like a guardian angel and solve all your fucking problems? Snap. Bam. Do it in my fucking sleep. Just fucking try me.
So you want me to run for president again? Yeah, sure, absolutely, I’ll do it. I’d be honored to do it—with my fucking dick in your mouth, you worthless scumbags.
You had your chance with Jimmy Carter, and you fucking blew it. So get fucked. Fucking country.
I think op ed really convinced me with all those powerful curse words.
Somebody's jealous of the HOT IRISH GUY!!!!!
He's actually hot???? I was kind of being fecicious.
I loved your blog. Thank you.
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