BE COOL was the worst movie of the year. I'd rather see John Travolta take a dump after eating a whicker basket. Actually, I'd like to see you take a dump after eating a whicker basket.
After fucking around with Oprah, and not realizing the genius of Christopher Walken, David Letterman finally impresses me for the first time in ten years:
"Hey! Let me ask you something: Do you think if I got punk'd by Ashton Kutcher I'd punch him in the face?" "No! I think you'd want to punch him, but then you'd realize you loved him!" "What am I, a pussy? You don't know anything about me." -Me in conversation with some fat bitches at lameass Ginger Man bar in Dallas.
"The movie seals Jackson's reputation: He's the most gifted big-picture artist working today, a master of epics from a human-eye view who excels at employing 21st-century technological wizardry to suit the needs of ageless, personal storytelling." -- Lisa Schwarzbaum, ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY