Someone remixed Christian Bale’s shit-flipping on the director of photography for Terminator 4, and I’ve been listening to it a bit over the past few days. The remix brings out the repetitive, whiny, self-important nature of his bloviation and substitutes for an inner monolog when something annoys me.
Did you almost fall on the ice this morning? Play this.
Did you not get the job you wanted? Play this.
Did the post office temporarily misplace your $280.00 doll from Australia? Play this.
Do you have to review a self-insertion wank-off in 350 words or less? Play this.