Will It Stop the Rage, Michael?

First, I just want to thank The Ghost of Gene Siskel for stepping in and knocking it out of the park. I now realize that every day that I don’t see Savage Dawn is a day lived as a coward.

Anyway, it’s good to be back. Now, those of you who know me most likely realize that I have a seemingly endless capacity for getting pissed off about things that really aren’t worth getting angry about at all. Over the past year or so I have tried to tone down the rage, but that’s really just so my lovely girlfriend won’t be afraid of me. However, there are a few things happening right now that must be talked about.

The Miami Vice Remake
OK, I can accept the fact that no one is even bothering to come up with new ideas in Hollywood, but if you’re gonna bring "Miami Vice" to the screen, you set it in the fucking ‘80s. This is a TV show that was conceived, written, and directed by cocaine. Now, you (yes you, Michael Mann) are going to come in with this “gritty” piece about undercover work? Please. Let me guess, do the cops (I refuse to even refer to them as Crockett and Tubbs) get in too deep? I saw some photos and everything is all grey and black. If ocean blue and coral aren’t in the costume design, why are you even bothering to call it Miami Vice? Is anyone even going to utter the word “cartel” or “Panamanian shrimper?” I know that some be-vested yuppie with feathered hair and the mustache to match is not going to make sweet love to a chick in a neon-green high-cut bikini on the lower deck of a speed yacht , and that’s just sickening. And Collin Farrell? Please. That man is not worthy to hold Don Johnson’s dick mid piss. I call for a GIK boycott of this picture. That’ll show ‘em. You hear that Mike? You just lost like $30.

The Omen Remake
Yes, I know I harp on remakes, but this one is disgraceful. The Omen is one of the greatest horror films out there. If you haven’t seen it, there is a good chance that you have absolutely no idea what life’s about. Now, I saw a preview for the new one and it looks as thought their basically using the original screenplay, but they’re throwing in some spooooky devil imagery like hooded figures appearing in the mirror and shit. Oh, and Julia Stiles is taking on the lead female role. Julia Stiles, people! That girl isn’t worthy to hold Lee Remick’s boosh mid wax. And, I think Damian is an American kid. As if we don’t all know that the Antichrist is a pale young Brit (or at least a Russian).

Carlos Mencia
There’s nothing I love more than comedians who tell you how offensive they are before they make a joke. Through the non-stop commercials that Comedy Central shows for this douchebag’s show and the one time I couldn’t lunge for the remote quickly enough, I have heard the great Carlos utter phrases like “get your hate mail ready.” Yeah dude, you’re incendiary. Your observations about how black guys date white girls and how gay men are into other men are really fucking insightful. Bring me the head of Carlos Mencia! This guy is not worthy of licking Carrot Top’s taint mid bench-press.

Gatorade
Y’all remember the good old days when you could walk into a 7-11 and all you had to choose between was green Gatorade and orange Gatorade? Maybe the fancy stores introduced fruit punch (red) into the mix, but that was it. Now, sweet lord! There’s a flavor for every force of nature. And I don’t care what you say, every new version; whether it’s rain, frost, ice, maelstrom or whatever, it all tastes like either green or orange Gatorade but slightly watered down. That volleyball girl (Keri Walsh) in the “Rain” commercials is kind of hot, though.

Alright, I could get into some other stuff like calling yourselves Journey when Steve Perry isn’t in the band or Hollywood’s refusal to produce my piece about an explosives expert who moonlights as a special-ed teacher, but I’ll save that for another time. Besides, the painkillers are starting to kick in and I’m not quite as angry as I was a few minutes ago…hey look, a "Sex and the City" rerun. God I love those four whores and their totally realistic escapades through the wasteland that is New York. I mean any city that Derek Jeter calls home must be awesome. That gum-smacking, shit-eating prick is my favorite.