Hopper Stone / Universal Studios
You speak-a English? I speak-a Movie Line.
Not one sentence slips my lips without a ridiculous slew of incoherent horseshit that some script recited to me. “Dumb and Dumber” paid its dues by offering the Fantz clan a whole new language.
Now they’re back with “Dumb and Dumber To,” a sequel to the Farrelly Brothers classic
I can see it now, Jim Carrey’s overacting is going to drag down Jeff Daniels’ Oscar-caliber performances. An attempt to resurrect storied and historic lines into nouveau twists will fail miserably, says I.
In the sequel, Harry (Daniels) and Lloyd (Carrey) hit the road (again) to find Harry’s illegitimate daughter in search of a kidney transplant.
The town’s back that way, boys. i.e., way back that way. Like 1994 ago.
Of course I’ll go see it, but only with a vaporizer in one hand, and in the other, a bong that’s cradling a 4-foot spliff that’s rolled in hash oil and dipped in keef.
Look who’s laughing now.
(Shhh. It comes out in 2014. Weed will be legal.)
You’re mic’s on, dude
One of the most comical cliches in a script is when people leave their mics on and vomit stupidity offstage, unaware the damn thing is still on.
Like Frank in “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” season 7, episode “Frank’s Little Beauties,” when he’s talking to his mortician pal backstage, unaware that his child beauty-pageant mothers hear everything.
“I got a question about you morticians. You bang the dead bodies?”
Obama totally pulled a Frank on Monday.
Well. Obama’s PG-13, so not entirely, but the president, who smoked cigarettes for 30 years, was caught with his mic on at the U.N. General Assembly, telling a guest that he kicked the habit because “I’m scared of my wife.”
Ooooo, Michelle. Wearin’ the pants(uit). Crackin’ the whip. Punchin’ babies. (Kidding.)
Calm down, rabid media. It could’ve been worse. At least he wasn’t getting head from an intern while on the phone with a congressman (solid, Clinton). Or courting a mistress that two other mob bosses were also slamming (classy, JFK).
The church is right behind you
I’ll keep my rant on the Church of Scientology short.
Like its penis. (It’s all about the girth, church, I promise.)
Leah Remini opened up about her split from the church (after being a member for 30 years) to “Dancing With the Stars” because she feels “safe” in the ballroom.
“The church is looking for me to fail,” she said. “So they can say, ‘Look what happens when you leave.'”
Then, the church released a statement to “Good Morning America,” after it removed its mouth from John Travolta’s raisins.
“We know this may come as a surprise to someone as self-absorbed as Ms. Remini, but we could care less if she wins or loses on ‘Dancing With the Stars.'”
BAM. Way to be an adult, church.
“Now give us our toys back, you bitch or I’m telling Tom Cruise.”
(If Leah or I are at large, please search in L. Ron Hubbard’s dildo cupboard.)
Selfie this, daddy
I want to know who takes Miley Cyrus’ “selfies.”
(Note to “selfie,” if we can see both of your hands, it’s not really a “selfie.”)
“Arrright daddy. Now you stand over dar, get mah cleavage real good and I’mma put a monkey on my back.”
“No daddy. Get my ass in thar. I want my thong seen like them porn stars. Get behind me daddy! I’mma gettin’ twerkin’ pissed.”
Fine, my little sugar titties. Say cheese. Pull them nubs up, your cleavage don’t look big nuff.
“OK daddy. I’mma gonna lick the floor like I’m real sexy.”
Miley, we’re in a rest stop shitter off I-75 in Florida.
“Shut up daddy! Pass me more toilet paper. My butthole’s leaking from them fried catfish nuggets.”
(This whole incident would’ve been less awkward if Billy Ray wasn’t swinging naked on a tire swing with a camera in one hand and beef jerky in the other.)
It’s just like the front row at London’s Royal Opera House.
Follow Christy Fantz: twitter.com/fantzypants.