The man had the biggest hit of his career last year with TAKEN (As is tradition here at SIMPLY PASSING THROUGH HISTORY, I'm not gonna bother checking that "fact" [Even though STAR WARS: EPISODE 1: I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE SUBTITLE was obviously bigger.].) but right as he was basking in his well deserved glory, his wife kicked the bucket somehow (I don't remember how, what her name was, or if said event happened close to the release of TAKEN or not [You get what you pay for, you cheap fuck. Go buy a book. Or Nook. But make sure my managers I know I sold you on that shit, cause I get a cookie.].).
As everyone in Hollywood knows, following the death of a loved one, every actor has two choices. You either withdraw from the public spotlight, moving to Europe for a self induced drug coma that only an acting salary can support, OR you stick your dick in as many projects ("Movies" in regular folk speak) about town as possible, trying to forget about the dick hole you lost when your wife died (Oh my God, I am never tricking a woman into marrying me after that comment). You know, assuming you are a Hollywood actor. Everyone else has to either suck it up or throw down on enough rope (or extension cord) for a noose. Cause drug induced comas in Europe tend to be a wee bit pricey.
Liam Neeson chose the dick sticking route (No one expected any less), as following the death of old whats-her-name, he suddenly became attached (that's movie speak for "He's planning to act in that movie... maybe.") to a shit ton of movies (For the record, I doubt very much that Liam's actual Penis is visible in any of his recent films. Though if it makes an appearance in any, my bet's on CLASH OF THE TITANS [That's shit's in 3D!]. Release "the Kraken" indeed, Mr. Neeson. Well played, old man.). Movie sites instantly began to speculate that Liam (me and him are actually very buddy-buddy. Never cared much for his wife, though. Kinda a bitch.) was intentionally taking any project he could get his hands on, just to keep his mind off the loss of his dick hole (I swear I'm not really this horrible a person).
The facts (yes, now I turn to facts... to make a point) would seem to support such a theory. Since TAKEN, Liam has been in 9 other released projects, if you count being a voice in PONYO, PRINCE CASPIAN, and the video game FALLOUT 3. Which I do. He has 5 films currently in post production including THE A-TEAM (of which he appears to be the most bad ass part). And he has five projects "In Development" (but that doesn't really mean shit. LINCOLN has been in development for years and may never happen. But hopefully it does, cause it's to be directed by Steven Spielberg!). So, all together that's 19 projects following TAKEN! I realize some of these were likely complete before his wife's passing and others may never actually happen ("In Development" really means jack shit.), but that's still a really fucking full plate for one man. A lot of holes in which to stick his dick, so to say.
So that is the sad, sad tale of Liam Neeson. The man appears to be in every film at the multiplex because, well, he is.
But what explains this other British Invasion (Ok, Liam Neeson may not be British. In fact, I think he's Irish...? Isn't that all the same shit anyway?)?
Pierce Brosnan aka Mr. 3rd Place (cause his portrayal of James Bond is only the third best out of six) is in every fucking movie at the multiplex that Liam Neeson is NOT in.
Hell, they even tried to be in the same movie, but there was a bit of a miscommunication. Liam told Pierce (Also a good friend of mine. His wife is far less bitchy than Liam's was.) he was going to play Zeus, so Pierce signed up for PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS: BLAH BLAH BLAH, thinking this was the movie Liam was talking about, because as everyone in Hollywood knows (including Liam and Pierce), Liam and Pierce have been looking for another project to collaborate on for ages. And ages. And ages. Unfortunately, Liam was referring to CLASH OF THE TITANS. So, he went on to make far more money than Pierce. But, Pierce had the last laugh, because he went on to look like far less of a fool than Liam, who will never live "Release the Kraken" down.
Okay, so Pierce has stuck his dick in far less places than Liam. He's only had four released projects since MAMMA MIA!, two projects currently in Pre-Production, and four In Development. But, take a look at this tasty little factoid... Liam has three movies currently in theaters, while Pierce has four (if you were to find PERCY JACKSON GODS STEAL LIGHTENING BLAH at a dollar theater)! Pierce currently has THE GREATEST, GHOST WRITER, and REMEMBER ME (and OLYMPIANS) out while Liam has CHLOE, CLASH OF THE OLYMPIANS OR SOME SUCH SHIT, AFTER.LIFE, and possibly a movie he's narrated. But I'm not gonna count that one here (even though I counted it earlier).
So, for all intensive purposes (my purposes), Pierce has out-dicked Liam, with 4 movies currently in theaters to Liam's 3.
What's up Pierce (I'll be sure to ask him when we meet for drinks tonight)? What tragedy hath befallen you? And why didn't you choose the Europe/drug coma route?
Is it possible the loss of one's identity is far more horrid and painful than the loss of one's dick hole? What I mean to say is, has losing the role of a lifetime (James Bond, duh!) finally made Pierce crack? Was it one of those denial dealies where Pierce was in denial since DIE ANOTHER DAY, not believing he really lost the only thing that gave him value, until there were, not one, but TWO James Bond movies starring "that other guy" (who happens to make a far better 007 than Pierce.)?
Finally accepting the loss allowed Pierce to move on to grieving, which he dealt with quite similarly to our mutual acquaintance, Liam. At least, that's the only conceivable reason that Pierce "Bond 4Ever" Brosnan has more movies out at the ole' multiplex than Liam "My Wife Is Dead... Whah!" Neeson.
Because it sucks to lose your spouse, but it must suck to lose all that James Bond money more.
And so Pierce Brosnan has not finished teaching me lessons in my "adulthood." From a young age, Pierce taught me that women were nothing more than sexy sidekicks who will have partially clothed sex with you if you are about to save the world. Or if you had just saved the world. But only if they didn't turn out to be evil. Though, even if they are (evil, I mean.), Pierce taught that you can still let them them "sex" you, as long as you reveal to them after that you knew they were evil all along. And kill them.
But today, Pierce has taught me the most valuable lesson of all. That money and fame are more important than any sort of human relationship, no matter how much sexing is involved (Trust me, I knew Liam and whats-her-face very well. There was a lot of sexing!).
Yes, not able to leave well enough I alone, I return to my "I am" franchise with a delayed fourth chapter, one that is sure to disappoint both because of how beloved the original trilogy has become and because of the massive expectations placed on this long-time-coming fourth part. Sure, I may be cashing in on the incredible wealth generated by this tried and true franchise and I may not be in the same place creatively that I was in 7 days ago when I wrote the original trilogy, but the fans have demanded it (about half of them, at least. The other half are strongly against it) so here it is...
I am not Eric Millegan.
"Who?" You may be asking.
"Not me," I say, "I am not Eric Millegan."
And it's true. I am not Eric Millegan. I may have been a little iffy on the truth a few times in the past, but now I am being straight with you. Totally and absolutely straight. Unlike Eric Millegan.
Eric Millegan (not me) is an actor best known for his role on Bones (no, this role did not involve him hopping [hoping?] on top of the good Dr., Bones McCoy. I am talking about the Fox TV show, you idiot). He is a regular cast member who eventually turns out to be serial killer, so we do have that in common (the serial killing I mean).
I do not watch Bones (the TV show, I do watch Bones the character on Star Trek) so I was not aware of this actor or story arch. But, when I came to work at Barnes and Noble, a fellow coworker asked me if I had been on Bones. "No," I says to her, "If I were on Bones why would I be working here?" I says.
Of course, I later learned that just because you are a semi-sucessful actor doesn't mean you won't latter end up working at Barnes and Noble. As touched on yesterday, one of my managers, Nick (no relation), was in a deleted scene in Star Trek: Nemesis. And here it is (Click on "Here," here or there [no! Don't click on "there" you idiot! My my, you are stupid today]). He is the one introducing the new chair to Captain Picard. It's so weird seeing someone you see nearly everyday alongside big-time-hot-shot-movie-actor-people!
But, anyways, that is beside the point (or, before the point I guess more aptly describes where it actually is). And the point is this... apparently I look like someone on Bones (see, the point did come after).
But, I gave this warning that I could have an evil-serial-killer-clone out there no credence. Just because one person thinks something, doesn't make it so (unless that one person is the infallible emperor of your political party).
So, I put it out of my mind. And out of my mind it remained for 3 long months (if only the urge to kill would stay away for half as long).
Until, last week.
Last week I got an oil change.
And it changed everything.
Not just my oil.
Though that was changed as well.
I hope (is there really a way to tell? How do I know these people aren't just taking my money and telling me they changed the oil. I ain't no rocket scientist. Nor am I a mechanic, who would probably be better suited to figure out if he was getting ripped off on oil changes. Though, why would he not just preform the oil change himself? And isn't being a rocket scientist just a more advanced form of being a mechanic? I don't know. Why are you asking me this? I'm not a rocket scientist. Not am I a mechanic...).
Anyway, the mechanic changed my oil (again, I hope he did at least) and the teller CHANGED MY LIFE!!! (Sorta. But not really though).
She says to me, "Were you on Bones?" she says.
A ha! So my coworker was not just delusional (perhaps I should not have accused her of such. I do feel a little guilty about all the verbal put-downs relating to her sanity... but only because she killed herself.). If one person thinks something, it may not be truth (except in the exception I already provided you with, dear readers), but if two people think something, independently of knowing one another, it is absolute fact. Which is how I know the end is Nye (but why would Bill Nye bring the end? All he wants to do is learn us some science. Perhaps science really has killed God...).
I must look like this Eric Millegan person. Though I do not see it, perhaps you do, dear readers. You've seen the photos sprinkled throughout this blog. Do I look like this Eric Millegan person? Two people have not simply thought I looked like him, they have confused me with him. Which confuses me, because we do not look that much alike. Do we?
We must. How could two people think something that isn't true? (Answer: they can't. It is impossible.)
So, new career plan. I am going to kill Eric Millegan, both providing me with a new career opportunity and quenching my blood lust, shutting up that voice in my head for another week or so. After all, Mr. Millegan's character is returning to Bones this season. So, I can impersonate him and become a minor TV actor! Hollywood, consider yourself ass raped.
But, according to the interwebs, Eric is gay...
Oh well. Everyone learns in film school that you aren't going to make it unless you're willing to suck a few cocks. I guess this is what they meant.
I am not Eric Millegan.
But I will suck a cock if it means stealing his life and getting away with his murder (but not really, Penises [Peniss? Peni?] are icky).
First off, let me warn by saying that I am not interested in fact. Sure, I could have researched this topic further (I do have those 13 aliens from Crystal Skull's gift to man [knowledge that will cause me to spontaneously combust if consumed all at once] via the internet), giving you important information that could very well save your life. But, like I said, I'm not interested in fact.
I am instead interested in speculation, that branches off from fact. So, sure, you could research this topic further and put rest to my idle speculation... but where is the fun in that?
Fact: Woman can be allergic to sperm!
I know, right? That's what I said. I said, "What-in-the-what-what?" just like you. No shit!
Fact: Women can be allergic to sperm. So when they have sex with a dude for the first time, they may feel a burning sensation, a real painful burning, and they may have swelling and shit, just like a person who was allergic to peanuts would after consuming peanuts or sperm (if he/she was also allergic to sperm).
Fact: In rare cases, this can lead to death, just like a peanut allergy can. But, in most cases, it just means the woman who is allergic to sperm can't have babies. Sucks, I know, right? I mean, if I can't shoot a baby out of my body, just kill me with sperm right now!
This smiley little guy just may KILL you.
Fact: Doctors can isolate this allergy (I'm sure the lingo is not correct here) using the husband's sperm (if the couple is married... not because he can't do it if they're not married, but because he's not the husband in that case. Aren't you a stupid fucker, you penis, you [now who's offensive, Andrew?]?). This doesn't always work though and if it doesn't work the couple can't have babies that they can force to follow the dreams they were too cowardly to chase themselves.
Isn't that frightening, ladies? When you have sex for the first time without a condom, you might fucking die! That ought to put the wrath of God up inside you (but not without a condom!). The sperm might get all up in them guts, cause you searing pain as you scream and scream until you just die (in rare cases... but can you really take that chance?). I mean, they ought to teach that in schools to get kids to stay abstinent or use condoms or whatever. "No listen children, if you have sex without a condom and you're allergic to sperm, it might be the last stupid thing you ever do. Because those little sperm will get upside you and boil your blood until your eyes pop out of your skull and you shit your intestines out your butt (I said there was some speculation involved)."
I mean, seriously ladies. Eating a peanut for the first time is one thing. I mean, a Resses peanut butter cup is the most pleasurable thing I can think of (I assume being allergic to peanuts makes you allergic to peanut butter, but I honestly have no way of knowing for sure... someone bring me someone [yourself if you qualify] with a severe peanut allergy so I can shove some peanut butter down their throat, STAT!). But having sex without a condom may not be worth it. Not unless you want a million sperm bullets cutting your baby maker to shreds from the inside.
I would die for you...
Now, this does give rise to speculation (as promised).
Can dudes be allergic to sperm? Can you be allergic to something your body produces? Does some poor gay guy get blasted in the ass (a painful enough experience as is, I'm sure) only to have his ass burn with the searing pain of a thousand deaths?
Also, does sperm just burn... in there? The allergy would take effect where ever the sperm ended up, right? I mean, people who are allergic to peanuts don't need to put peanuts into their vagina (am I aloud to say that word? I am a dude...I avoided saying it thus far because it sounds so much dirtier than penis...) to find out they are allergic to peanuts. So it makes sense that an allergy to sperm would be troublesome no matter the orifice (it should really be spelled oriface, considering how many orifices the face has...).
...So that I can turn it into a weapon!
Anyway, I really don't have a point...
Except to warn you and possibly (no... definitely) save your life!
You're welcome! Though I am not able to give you all the answers because I refuse to research further (because I don't want to spontaneously combust like Irnina Spalko [well, really I'm just too fucking lazy]) it would be best for you to never have sex without a condum if you are a straight female or a gay male. Lesbians are free to lez out.
In fact, condoms can break... so just never have sex. You may either die (if your a female) or murder someone (if you're a male)! Imagine the guilt if you murdered someone with your penis (it may sound like something to brag about ["Yo, bros! I killed someone with my dick!" - "No way, bro!" - "Yes way, bro" - "Bro!" - "Bro!"] but trust me, the guilt would eat away at you like I east away at this here Reeses Cup).
Mmmmm.... Pleasure....
Yes, that's it. I wrote this blog so that virgins reading this blog will never have sex.
Because misery loves company...
I mean...
Er...
I have literally had thousands of girlfriends. And oodles upon oodles of intercourse of the sexual variety...
....
Be seeing you.
The more you know!
Knowledge is Power!
(And yet I would have spelled it knowlege without spell check...)
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