The Single Mother's Manifesto, by J.K. Rowling. (For those of you who can't quite place the name, she wrote some children's books a while ago that were rather popular.)
I really don't have any skin in the anti-Twihard game, but this still made me laugh; look at the way that the impression of the Count's fist remains on Edward's face.
Once a month, some friends and I get together for what we call Beer and B-movie Night, where the beer is good and the movies are usually bad. Last night, we did a thing where we picked out movies at random, and somehow ended up with three that went from very bad to very good. The first was the infamous Manos: the Hands of Fate, which was much worse
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