Because, you know, Kirk as a spy. I have thoughts, sadly first among them that Reese Witherspoon reminds me too much of my sister to be a viable sex object, and second among them that McG is totally, totally gay, totally, totally hilarious, and totally, totally incapable of writing a heterosexual romance. Because of being totally, totally gay. And also apparently not knowing any human women. But on the up side, he does like boys with pretty mouths, and Cameros, so we can still be friends, despite his complete failure to understand a single, solitary thing about women. Which someone should have noticed before they put him in charge of a romcom, but whateves. Chelsea Handler's freakishly good comic timing was the best part of an incredibly, incredibly formulaic and predictable movie clearly written by a guy who should have retired after Mr. & Mrs. Smith, which was incidentally his masters thesis.
And in conclusions, boys with pretty mouths being incredibly gay and shooting things--two thumbs up!
I really feel like there should be a Words with Friends Fest where everyone plays 2 games of Words with friends, takes a screen cap of the completed game, submit it, and then everyone gets someone else's board and you write a story containing all the words on the board. It would be totally awesome. Someone should hook that up.
I officially don't care anymore.
You couldn't even make it through your second episode without violating your own premiss? Color me unimpressed.
All I have to say is that I just want to pat Steve on the back and tell him that Danny is a dumbass and will come back to him some day. Poor little sailor. They repeal DADT and he still doesn't get to make out with Danny on the dock when his ship pulls into port.
He is very pretty and he has blue highlights and he does that thing with his hips that is usually only attempted by trained belly dancers, so clearly he's a keeper. I feel like he is the love child of John Sheppard and Lisa Marie Presley (because Elvis has left the building and she totally rocks the sneer without being cliched, and I'm not quite ready to throw in the mpreg) who was abandoned at a David Bowie concert as a baby and raised by a pack of back-up dancers in the center of the Labyrinth.
I do not care how queerly attractive you are, I will never watch Atonement again as it hurt my soul as much as my brief fixation with Orson Scott Card novels. Really, I feel it was particularly cruel of you to be so pretty in a tuxedo.
Yours,
A reluctant admirer
Someone point me at the good fic, because I really want Charles and Erik to do naughty things together.
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