Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo YO! You can't mess with my Yo-yo, YO! Who is the man with a master plan? A nigga with a mutha fuckin' gun, Git Down!
A hip hop, a hippity hop, to the hip hip hop and ya just don't stop.

It's MLK and I'm comin your way, with a fat cheeseburger and I'm here to stay
Ya can't get rid of me, are you Uripide? It's serendipity, we meet infrequently

The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in its arboreal gloom
Distil so rank a feline smell
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.

Whispers of Immortality, T.S. Eliot, 1920

The Filthy Critic on the movie Swimfan,

"It takes monster nuts to have absolutely nothing to say, write a whole movie to prove it, and find a director and studio who share your lack of vision. Then you must have the conviction and strength of belief to see your ass-ripping turd through to completion. You have to wake up every morning and be excited to think "Today's the first day of the rest of my life barfing up someone else's ideas." You have to know that your story is entirely implausible and laughably absurd, but not care for one second. You have to be willing to cave in to every studio demand to make sure that the final product is as compromised as possible. You have to pretend you care, yet put something on the screen that shows you don't.

Despite Swimfan's cornhole-clogging shittiness, it inspired me. The handful of you who have read my reviews for a while know I've been listless; unemployed, mostly drunk, pissed at objects animate and inanimate and feeling personally insulted by the WB's fall lineup. I've been like a boat set adrift with no direction, blaming everyone but myself for the fact that I will die alone, poor, penniless and wearing someone else's old clothes. That's not a bad thing, really. I mean, it beats working. But having a reason to live is better."

This is why I love this guy. The Filthy Critic inspires me, fills me with hope, and washes me in cynicism. God Bless America. I Love the world, I love you all. Good night and good day.

I believe I said, "Good day!!!!!!"

P.S. I can't believe no one snatched up the domain, www.turdfest.com. I'm gonna have to buy it before some wily entrepaneur does. Peace!