Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Basking in a Pool of Human Desperation; It's the Right Thing to Do

Sidle up to today's guest reviewatrix, Mongolian Girl. Be nice or she might offer up one of her pumpkin muffins. -Miss Missives

Know what I want you to do Jeremy Kerman ? I want you to sit still and pay close attention while I tell a little story.

Last month my husband, Hellbilly, and I were finishing out a horse stall. That means I had a nail gun in my hand and was pressing one end of a 2x10x14 board as hard as I could against a post with my shoulder. Know what that board decided it was going to try? Moving a bit out of plumb. So you know what I did? I dug my boot deeper into a pile of horse shit, pressed so hard against that board that I thought my shoulder was going to slide out of its socket, popped a nail into it to get it to stay put, and then popped about 20 more nails into it. Then I stood back to admire my work, waved the nail gun around in the air over my head, and said, “That’s right, you fuckin’ bitch. You stay where I say you’re gonna stay, ‘cause me and this nail gun? We’re your fuckin’ daddy now.”

That’s what it looks like to push a dream into reality, Jeremy. You may think the dream Hellbilly and I have of raising, training and showing American Quarter Horses is…whatever. I don‘t care what you think of our dream. I care what we think of our dream. And what we think is that we are going to press our minds, bodies, souls and emotions so far into this dream that, even if it fails, we are going to go down in flames with our pride and integrity intact.

Your blog is easy for me to look at. I appreciate it when someone offers up a simple, white canvas. It makes me think that the owner of the blog must have a great picture to paint on that canvas. But that‘s the problem, Jeremy? The picture you are painting is nothing more than some kind of washed out watercolor thingy that‘s about as interesting as that pink poke-a-dot skunk one of my Great Aunts painted and gave me for by 14th birthday. And Jesus, the Essenes, and even my fucked up bitch of a neighbor, Rotunda know you are capable of it telling your story, Jeremy. Your writing is clean and crisp, letting me know you are capable of telling a story without going on and on and on until I decide finally cleaning that tiny piece of cat shit out of our bathtub is more interesting than reading one of your posts.

You went to UC Berkeley and got a degree in Mathematics. You followed that by working for a Congressman, going to NYU Law School, and then working for a corporate law firm. Then, of all things, you decided to dump the entire thing and pursue your dream of becoming an actor.
Nobody, I mean nobody, spends as much time as you did in college and pursuing a career, walking out of the entire thing to become an actor, and ends up without a story to tell.
Instead? You give us this, this and this. Oh, and this. What the fuck?

This is what I want to know:
When did you first start to realize you were headed for or in the wrong profession?
How did you try to avoid this truth?
Getting drunk?
Fucking anything that moved?
Hiding out in your apartment watching Judge Judy while jacking off into a bag of Cheetos?
Why did you go forward with the status quo for a while anyway?
Guilt?
Pressure from the outside?
Ego?
Fear?
What kind of shit did you pull for the Congressman?(I’m not retarded, Jeremy. I know you pulled shit for the Congressman. Spill it.)
Who at that corporate law firm did you want to fuck all night, torture and kill, have as your mentor, stand up to?
How have your old classmates, friends, and family reacted to your choice to become an actor?
Have you had to tell any of them to fuck off, get out of your way, anything?

Let’s talk about this: You actually say that Simon Cowell of American Idol is the only person in Hollywood who is willing to directly tell someone they stink. On top of that, you mention, in the very same post, that you think Al Pacino must have gotten his start as an actor by having to wear a smelly bumble bee costume.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Simon Cowell and American Idol are a disgrace to anyone who ever cared about the dreams of another human being. Stop watching American Idol. Stop watching TV altogether, for chrissake. That shit you wrote about Fox News discovering something about the Large Hadron Collider made me want to hurl. The only thing Fox News, CNN, MSNBC or any other news outlet of their kind have ‘discovered’ is how to boost ratings by way of drama, trauma and sanctified bullshit.

Go watch Dog Day Afternoon and wait. Wait for and then take in every single moment of the character named Leon Schermer.

Watch This Boys Life and take in every act of desperation out of the characters Dwight, Caroline and Toby.

Check out Carlito’s Way and bask in the pool of human desperation that seeps out of the David Kleinfeld character.

Give every moment of your attention to the characters of Little Bill Dagget in Unforgiven , Sam Cayhall in The Chamber, and especially Harry Caul in The Conversation .

Fall into disillusion with the character of George Hanson in Easy Rider .

Then? I want you to find these people. No, not the actors. I mean real people who are living desperate lives. People who are desperate, just out of prison, suffering, grieving, dark, maimed, twisted and broken. Meet these people. Talk with these people. And, most importantly, lay yourself bare to these people. Then shut up and listen. Why? Because they are going to tell you the truth about yourself. And then? Find the people in Hollywood who make you squirm. Those people who have either lived desperately or exposed themselves, without judgment, to those who are.

Otherwise, I’m afraid you’re going to end up doing one of two things with this notion you have of becoming an actor:
1) End up a famous asshole who simply produces more American Idol-like shite to clog up the airwaves, or
2) Completely fail at becoming an actor and come away from the entire experience having learned nothing and looking around wondering where your pride and integrity have gone.

I also want you to completely dump your blog and start a new one if the reason you are not telling your story is because you’ve given your URL to people you don’t trust to handle your innards when you lay them out.


½ star for an uncluttered blog, crisp writing style, and having a story to tell if you would just fuckin’ tell it.





If you do dump your current URL and get a new blog, I want to know.

Oh, yeah, and here’s a flaming finger for linking to a site called Dame Magazine that claims they are ‘for women who know better’. I suggest you find some women who actually do know better, but have decided not giving a flat flyin’ fuck is a much better idea if they’re going to get on with their lives.

96 comments:

  1. What a treat to see Mongoliangirl posting today. That was some serious schooling.

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  2. Seriously, that was some delicious hillbilly motherfuckery right there. Where's my banjo, I'm ready to be trained.

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  3. Is so much "life advice" neccessary? It's a blog review website right?

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  4. By the way, if this guy ever gets in a rut, he has a million blog ideas that you just gave him. Mongoliangirl - remind me to email you when I go through a dry spell. My god, he should pay you for this review.

    I think I could like Jeremy, he seems like he has a humor bone in there somewhere, but his whole site just makes him look boring as fuck.

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  5. I agree, I feel like I could like him, if I was allowed to pick and choose certain sentences from each post.

    Mongo: Wonderful. And not just because you mentioned George Hansen and Dog Day Afternoon.

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  6. Blues - That's what drove me nuts about his blog! He has this great sense of humor and what looks like some pretty serious life changing going on, and then only skims along the top of things in his posts.

    GoD - I think you are, young man. I think you are.

    Thanatos - Necessary? Hell, I don't know.

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  7. Great review, MG. It's better than a pumpkin muffin. And that's saying a lot.

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  8. I wish you would quit holding back so much, MG.

    Dog Day Afternoon, now that's a movie worth air-punching about.

    This guy wears a lightly starched shirt every day of his life and he's probably funny in that, I'm a funny jerk kind of way. Sarcastic and clever and starched.

    And...

    "Hiding out in your apartment watching Judge Judy while jacking off into a bag of Cheetos?"

    Get out of my freaking living room already.

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  9. Rass: But I am wonderful for mentioning both.

    Gwen: Ummmmmmm...pumpkin muffins!

    Betsey: I know, right? No experience with that here! No! Never!

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  10. Where's that post with the "women who know better" link? I feel like getting all mad and pissy about something today.

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  11. me too Rassles, I'm bored, let's fuck shit up.

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  12. I found it.

    Dame is boring and without personality, but not as shallow as other girl-oriented sites, so that's good. Still.

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  13. It's just not fun fighting a meh.

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  14. Now, if he were a Space Marine, this would be interesting.

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  15. Yeah, what does a Meh know anyway. Just how to be meh. Not how to be all kick assy back.

    Sigh.

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  16. Rumor has it I played Space Marine last night.

    You Earthlings are toast though.

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  17. too much flashy shit going on over there for me to determine if I care. I just can't deal with flashy shit. Get out of my face. This is why I don't get it when people put a bunch of nonsense all over their blogs.

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  18. Yeah you did BB.

    And you Earthlings are sooooo fucked.

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  19. Me likey when Blues and Rass fuck shit up. I'm probably completely wrong, but it's always like short and quiet people get drunk and start a brawl. You know I'm all about the brawl. And pumpkin muffins. And killing and then butt fucking Dame Magazine.

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  20. BB & GoD: Don't scare me like that. I suspect even my sock covered crow bar couldn't prevent that shit.

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  21. Sorry, apparently I'm pretty lame as a Space Marine.

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  22. It's not that we sucked as Space Marines, there was a technical malfunction of some sort that caused the canons on our ship to toast earth. Well, that's what the report is going to show. Mostly because they're isn't anyone left to read the report. Sorry, Earth, your fate has been sealed.

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  23. Oh I doubt it, BB. And what's up with that new picture. Holy shit, you really ARE Marilyn Monroe! Pretty girl!

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  24. And by technical malfunction he means that Betsey had a few to many and tripped. Sorry toasted fuckers.

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  25. Well, yeah, figures the Earth would be destroyed by a clumsy drunk blonde with a raccoon in the turret.

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  26. Awww shucks. Wait? If I'm Marilyn Monroe then I'm more than likely a zombie.

    YES!

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  27. I'm pretty sure that's even the plot of a movie that Marilyn herself would have starred in.

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  28. It's cool, though, we were wearing kickass uniforms. They were all space-like.

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  29. They have spacesuits for raccoons?

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  30. Twenty posts? That's all this bonehead has written? Twenty?

    Geez, MG, some people really get the nice cherry assignments. I'm sensing favoritism here. Just cause I don't do any baking is no reason to go around hating on me and shit.

    I think that there should be like a minimum number of posts before someone is eligible for a review. Like, more than 20. Or more than 50. Something. Shit, I don't know.

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  31. Yeah we are! We're Fucking Celestial, bitches! Not to be confused with 'celestial bitches'.

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  32. The funny thing is he probably submitted in like January, back when he had two.

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  33. Ghost, I would have thought your inner-resilience would have rendered a spacesuit useless.

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  34. That's called thinking ahead, but no necessarily with your head.

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  35. Yes, well, Rass, they do. Also, Russel Brandt survived somehow and we had a lengthy dialogue about twitter. More meds, pls.

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  36. You'd be all, "atmospheric pressure? I laugh at suffocation. Watch this, bitch, I breathe stars."

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  37. Rass: Yes, the only purpose of the suit would be stylin.

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  38. Like your Away Jersey. And by "away," I mean "not on earth."

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  39. I only wore the suit because it had a built in coozie. Oh and I fit the suit, like my last name was Bravo or some shit.

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  40. Please tell me your suit was topped with a platinum helmet.

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  41. Exactly, Rass. I may be doomed to accidentally destroying Earth, but you won't hear any bad words directed toward my apparel.

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  42. (ps: um, how hot are your tits right now?)

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  43. Yeah, raccoons have some pretty hot tits.

    Oh wait, did you mean me?

    My platinum helmet is turned up to high.

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  44. "That guy toasted are ass, but did you see that sweet get up?"

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  45. "toasted are ass"

    bitch, beat yoself with a keyboard.

    Our.

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  46. If my ass gets toasted, dude better be wearing freakishly awesome gear.

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  47. All I really want is a pre-emptive apology from the two most well-dressed in the 'verse, since I'll be all corpsified.

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  48. Well, I'll see what we can do for you Rassles. Frying Planets is tedious work, you know?

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  49. I for one am extremely sorry. Mostly because it wasn't even my dream, but I played a starring role in it.

    And since I was watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall before I went to sleep last night, I'm freaked out that Ghost dreamed about me and Russel Brandt and the Earth was full of assholes.

    Mostly, I'm sad that the Earth was full of assholes, because that part was true.

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  50. I understand, doublebooked schedules and trendsetting and all that.

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  51. Posol - You don't understand the basking idea because you already do it so well. Be not confused.
    Easy greasy assignment, eh? Maybe someone was just afraid I would kill and then butt fuck them if I had to read too much. Or shove a sharp pencil into their ear canal?
    Probably not.

    Pumpkin muffin?

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  52. I knew you would understand, Rassles.

    I guess I'm sorry too, Earth. You weren't all bad, but someone has to rule the Universe, and you morons left me and BB alone with a Mobile Planet Destroyer. And booze. And bitching outfits.

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  53. "I guess I'm sorry too, Earth. You weren't all bad, but someone has to rule the Universe, and you morons left me and BB alone with a Mobile Planet Destroyer. And booze. And bitching outfits."

    Hey, GoK, since we're the only survivors here, could you please put that on my floating in space headstone?

    That's pretty righteous.

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  54. Man, talking about Space Marines is so much more fun that talking about this blog. But then again, I like talking about Space Anything.

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  55. Here is the thing about being a Space Marine.

    I didn't even know such a thing existed and I'm pretty sure it doesn't. So this is some shit that you don't even know about yet and I get to be one. And really one of the only two because we just blew up the planet.

    So this is some limited edition shit.

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  56. Like plates from the Danbury Mint.

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  57. This is way more fun than talking about today's blog.

    I think there were Space Marines in Starship Troopers. No? Ok, yeah, I probably made it up. Wicked Super Limited, 2of2 type shit!

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  58. Rass: Yeah, but WAY fucking cooler.

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  59. Rassles - "beat yoself with a keyboard". Holy fuck I'm in tears. I'm gonna have that on repeat in my mind all day.

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  60. I don't know how much this blog even deserves our attention, his template is like eating boiled tofu with a side of air.

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  61. Ghost, you should see these rockin' Glitter Kitten plates I got last week. They put spacesuits to shame.

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  62. And Pos is right about the lack of posts, how does the guy expect a review if he's only done 20 posts?

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  63. I'm even cooler than that Corvette coin with the working headlights.

    Because ANYTHING is cooler than that.

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  64. I'm cooler than a swingin' leg Elvis clock.

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  65. Also, and this is where I think I almost woke up, there was a lengthy air-punching sequence that followed the 'accident'. No fucking shit, it was crazy.

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  66. Or anything else you can get at Spencer's.

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  67. Well that pretty much seals the deal. I'm in yo' head, Ghost.

    My life would be complete if I witnessed an air-punching montage, dream or otherwise.

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  68. Wonder if Space Marines have to deal with paperwork.

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  69. Than: They did, but I fixed that.

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  70. Fuckin A GoK, that's got to be the best job ever. If only you chumps hadn't blown the planet up...

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  71. I'll let that chump thing slide, I mean, I am going to blow you up. Or I already did. Or something.

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  72. Yeah, well, nothing is free, Thanatos, nothing. Yeah, the chump thing is of little importance in the grand scheme.

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  73. Yeah, I figured I had nothing to lose.

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  74. You know what is of importance in the grand scheme? Maintaining righteous clothes choice.

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  75. Mongoliangirl and the Space Marines - Thanks for your review and comments. You are honest like Simon Cowell.

    I'll dig deeper and tell more of my story in the future.

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  76. He didn't even say anything about not starching his shirt anymore.

    Harrumph!

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  77. Well, BB, he did just find out the destruction of Earth is imminent.

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  78. Okay, fine, fair enough.

    You're such a softie, GoK, I can see that I actually am going to have to trip to make that fucker blow up.

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  79. If it makes you feel any better, the starch in his shirt should cause him to burn quicker than most.

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  80. I hope it makes that awesome "Fwoop" sound when it does.

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  81. Me too. This Space Marine gig kicks all ass.

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  82. Yeah, thanks for totally making it up, complete with righteous weapons, bitchin' suits and delicious brew.

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  83. No problem, BB. I'm just glad this wasn't one of my 'less digestible' dreams. Those are fucking not rad.

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  84. After reading this blog I felt my apathy gaining strength.

    I just didn't care.

    Now your review, on the other hand, gave me wood(more of a chubby but in the pulp family non the less).

    Your review was beautiful and passionate.

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  85. Jeremy Kerman - What the hell are you doing saying I'm anything like Simon Cowell. Fuck. Seriously. This is now two, count 'em, two people this week over here at Ask who are itching for me to shove a sock covered crow bar in their mouth. Oy vey, Jeremy. I'm going to be in LA next week. I think it will be best if I just leave you on skid row for a week to see how things go.

    Chris - "More of a chubby but in the pulp family." You know that's, like, making me think of over ripe cantaloupe, right?

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  86. MG Im not sure what that means, I am still in shock that you gave me a review-boner.

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  87. Review-Boner was an off Broadway play I was in.

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  88. Ha hah hah brilliant blog. You rock love your style this just too good not to follow. Just made my year. And my cats are evil. A sock just died. One more for the Reaper to take.

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  89. Chris - I'm not about your boner, but, you know, boner away if you must. And, if it is true that you were in a play called 'Review Boner'? That's awesome.

    Mad Bush Farm - Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Seriously. I'm a lowly first time guest reviewer and the regular reviewers will knock your socks off. Me? I'm normally just commenting about voilence and pumpkin muffins!

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  90. Beef Curtain, way to lay it out babe! Pumpkin muffin?

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  91. In response to Thanny's question, some of these bloggers are SCREAMING for life advice. It's almost irresistible to give them the ass kicking they so clearly need.

    I consider it an act of kindness, personally, and we address this topic in our FAQ and submission form.

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Grow a pair.