Monday, March 28, 2011

Haiku for Eat, Pray, Love


Haiku for Eat, Pray, Vomit:


Dear James Franco (again)
You owe me two hours of 
your life.  I'm waiting.

In fact screw the haiku, we need to have words Franco. 
First you make us go through the excruciating pile of un-digested bile and regurgitated trollop that was Nights in Rodanthe, which even you despised since you took your name out of the credits.  

Then you force that hideous big mouthed monster Hathaway (dressed in various montages of putrid glitter and sequins) upon us at the ludicrously over-hyped nightmare that is the Oscars.

And now this.  On DVD, in the comfort of our own homes, we had to watch this horror and shameful excuse for a film.  Watching Roberts roam around Rome telling people that guys will shag anything, even girls with muffin tops is not enlightening. 

And where were you?  Reduced to some secondary, passive,  man-child character who mumbles on the phone and tries to meditate because he's cool, edgy and New York like that.  Then after 20 minutes, you disappeared.

So I repeat, you owe me.  Big time.  Perhaps a sequel to Howl?  Howl 2: The Return of Super Ginsberg?  Or a dinner, massage and acid trip so that we can see James Dean come out of my wall and spark up (true story). 

I guess this is a start,  

Kind Regards,
Minga

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