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Robin Rubbermaid
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I feel very conflicted about the fact that Rex Reed is the one critic who hated Tree of Life as much as I did. You see, in the beginning there was a big bang, and then cellular life emerged and then the dinosaurs were wiped out and then human life evolved and then Rex Reed and I were in disharmony throughout most of our lives but then came together in peace and reconciliation on a windswept beach, and one of us may or may not have been a ghost or something.
“Good job, Albert Brooks” is kind of my motto.
Wait, do some people actually not like Regis Philbin? I’m being serious.
Yeah, and I don’t think most people’s idea of a “world-ending disaster that wrenches your stomach” includes David Karp messing up some html.
The alien/impersonator theory is really the only one that passes the Occam’s razor test.
“I’d like to plank Rosario’s Dawson!” See? It’s easy!
I feel like it’s a good idea to be able to recognize what a gun is so you don’t try to grab one out of a policeman’s holster or ignore someone who’s trying to rob you. And Hershey bars are just tasty, so that’s a good thing to know about too.
A few months back I was pulling out of the driveway and it was getting dark and a group of those bicyclists that are just slathered in spandex and weird logos rode by, and one of them yelled out “Turn your lights on, idiot!” I hated all bicyclists everywhere that day.
I love this for a couple of reasons. First, I’ve nominated “Deconstructing Harry” for the Hunt for the Worst Movie of All Time. Second, I’ve nominated Osama bin Laden for the Hunt for the Worst Human of All Time (After Hitler).
Actresses have bad taste in bands to be band-girlfriends with.