Take away the robots and the special effects, and Star Wars is just the simple story of a group of friends planning a terrorist attack.
If anything, I believe that when I die, I will have to stand in front of all the children who went to bed hungry while I was on earth and read aloud a list of my eBay purchases. I shudder to think of it. Explaining to a poor child with a swollen belly why I didn't give his village fifty cents a week but spent twenty-seven dollars in a bidding war for a Mars Attacks coffee cup.
Maybe the next three Star Wars movies will tell the story of how the last three Star Wars movies got so shitty.
Rejected names for World War II: 'Global Super Killfest', 'Germaniacal Japandamonium', 'World War 1: New Moon'.
In a world of war, pain and suffering, all I want for Christmas is an underwater watch and a silver clutch rod for my dirt bike.
If I had a Volkswagon Beetle. I'd paint the front to resemble Glenn Langdon in War Of The Colossal Beast. Why? Two words: The Ladies.
