Okay, you primitive screwheads, listen up.

Tea and I will be going crazy this weekend, as crazy as a couple of restricted-diet losers can go, that is. Crazy equals haircuts and shopping and movies and Italian food and serious discussions about library science. Perhaps we shall see Spiderman 3?

Though I must be honest, I want to see it for only one reason:


Yeah, that would be the obligatory Campbell Cameo.

Yeah, that would be my copy of the book.

Related: Sam Raimi is supposedly a Bushie-contributer conservative. There is a lot of “You mess with insert name/place here, you mess with me/all of us/grandmasin the Spidey films. At the time of the first film, I read it as post-9/11 sentiments.

Something else I noticed about Mister Raimi’s films: they all have six or so working titles. Evil Dead III, the Medevil Dead? Army of Darkness: The Ultimate Experience in Medieval Horror? Spiderman No More? Spiderman 2 Lives? Obviously, all these title changes show a grave amount of flip-floppery in Mister Raimi. I am highly disappointed. HIGHLY. DISAPPOINTED. Heh. Heh heh.

Also related: Ted Raimi appearing immediately out of nowhere when J. Jonah Jameson shouts for him (Spidey 2) still makes me die, lots.

Also related: Tobey McGuire is thirty-freaking-two? When did this happen? Everyone probably tells him, oh, you’ll be glad they’re still offering you the kiddie price when you get to be my age, and he says, Damn it, I am your age, when is this shit gonna stop?

Pretend on-blog-topic but secretly not and yet be proven: Deadites ate my colon.

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