WarningThis post contains bad, foul, filthy and unacceptable language - the words that “will curve your spine, grow hair on your hands and maybe, even bring us, God help us, peace without honor.”
This is not a post for children. Kids, take a hike.
This is also not a post for those adults who are offended by this type of language. Do yourself a favor, and go read some of my cute stuff before moral outrage can kick in.
Just about everything else on this blog is clean…Stupid sometimes, but clean.
End of Warning.
With the Tenth Anniversary George Awards for Profanity in film (and the slightly younger associated Dana Awards for Profanity in TV) having passed last year, it would suck if it didn't continue, wouldn't it?
Before we get to this year's movies-
with as loose a definition of "this year" as possible-
The awards will kick off, yet again, with an introductory personal moment, related to the in progress survey of my Action Figure addiction.
That survey required (Fine, "required" is probably a word in the same category as "NEED" for this description) a huge amount of photos.
The issue with those photos was every time I would remove, replace, realign, touch, look at, or think about an action figure, it, and all the characters with absolutely any proximity to that one, would be sent pitching on their faces and asses, setting off chain reactions since most of them can't stand on their own worth a shit.
The result was the little bastards fell over constantly. To hinder matters, as I was usually involved with placing or lifting other ones, I did not have a free hand to catch them.
In the worst cases the figures would plummet off the shelf all together, leading me to hunt for them and their accessories. (Which sometimes fell on their own - and being tiny little shits - were much harder to find).
To kick off the first George Awards of their second decade, I present a typical day where Starlord tipped sideways off of the Cosmic Marvel shelf, one of the highest points in the room. His zune (a teeny little rectangular slip of plastic) was surprisingly easy to find. I did notice one of his blasters bounce behind some boxes. The figure himself, however, seemed to vanish into another dimension, leading to extensive crawling around on the floor to dig out the blaster and hunt for a small, plastic Chris Pratt.
(Spoilers- He only fell half way down and wedged between a Star Wars shelf on the structure my wife graciously assembled to house my addiction. [THANX HONEY!!!] and the Godzilla shelf.)
What follows is my one man performance as I, yet again, crawled around the floor of the comic room hunting for poorly balanced objects that had taken a tumble.
"SHIT!!! Fuck bastard son of a stupid bitch shit cunt fuck prick mother crap asshole monkey scumbag shit eating fucking pain in the shit fuck bitchbastard mother puss bucket stupid fuck shit asshole fucker shi..."
*BONK!!!*
[Note- this is the sound of me not paying attention as I searched and therefore slamming my forehead into the leg of the previously mentioned - crafted by Rosa - black shelves.]
"AAAAH!!! FUCK! fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!"
*clack*- four of them... overlapping-
[Note- this is the sound of the entire team of Ghostbusters on the top of the black shelves falling over in short order]
"Shit shit shit shit shit shi-"
*Clang!*- *various simultaneous clacks*
[Note- this is the sound of the metal sign on one of the Star Wars black shelves falling over and taking out half the residents and vehicles of that shelf.]
"SON OF A BITCH! Fucking stupid shit bastard fuck bitch shit fuck..."
*CHONK*
[Note- This is the sound of a die cast Star Destroyer plummeting off the black shelf with the metal sign on it briefly embedding in and then bouncing off the base of my skull.]
"GRAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! FUCKSHITBITCHCUNTBASTARDFUCKSTUPIDBITCHSHITFUCKASSHOLE*long period of unintelligible wookie noises*FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKK!!!!!!!!!!!"
On the positive side, when I returned the metal starship that had dented the back of my head to its proper location and stood up the sign, I found where Starlord had gotten stuck.
"you little fucker."
Come back next week to see a Christmas treat (in May) for the first of the movie selections in the eleventh Annualish George Awards for use of Profanity in Film.
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