most started out in their mother’s basements diagramming their alter-reality existence on graph paper and rolling dice instead of feeling up actual breasts in the back of cars. and the only action they did get was from their own hand as they wanked off on their Lady Death comic books, jizzing on her huge disproportionate tits.

unfortunately, these same people are still in their mother’s basements clutching their mint-in-the-box action figures as they point their fingers at anyone who dares to break-up the narcissitic romp between their own dicks and the masturbatory childhood pop culture that they deem so worthy.

for fuck’s sake, if anyone thinks that “land of the lost” is a sacred of gem nestled in the crown of a untouchable childhood, then i would tell that person to get yourself a hooker on any given street corner. get yourself laid, so the blood will rush back into your brain, and you can stop gracing the world with your shitty delusions of granduer. i’ll even give you a condom and the $20 –

Me thinks the lady doth protest too much…

Don’t hate the players, cribble…hate the GAME.

What the hell makes people think that their respective childhoods are so fucking sacred, anyway? How sad it is that the fondest part of a childhood is spent watching some retarded syndicated cartoon, so much so that people are going to liken a remake of same to forced intercourse…are the filmmakers putting a knife to your throat and tying you to your theater seat? I doubt it.

I bet if these people were ever raped, they might change their terminology.

Yes, using the term”rape” is utterly inappropriate, but given the shitty films Hollywood produces, be it “Rom coms”/piss poor adaptations of other works/ anything with a number at the end of the title, they deserve criticism. Can we say “creatively bankrupt”? I think we can.

Could I do better? Probably not. Do I wish to spend my hard-earned encouraging them to produce more of the same? Not a chance.