V For Vendetta
Not Much To Remember Remember View Trailer
Nice try film peoples, but the only anarchy on display here is the bloated screenplay with all its half-cocked ideas that labors on and on for what seems like 47238432 November 5ths. High on style, and what seems like itself, there aint nuttin much to behold but a house of potential, built solely with balsa wood. It’s not a total wash out, I mean, dude, Natalie Portman taking a nap on a pile of poo larger than this woman’s [NSFW] for 7 hours would still be worth watching beating off to, but then again, anytime a review of ours turns into a bunch of picture pages (like Van Hell Suck/Hellboo), it aint bound for glory, or bound like Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly either. So without much further Freddy Adu about nothing, wait for the DVD/Blu-Ray/PSP/HD-DVD/VD, and in the meantime (no, not the Helmet album), do the math, cause we’re not Asianified enuff to come up with something that equals $10 well spent, but wees’will stills give it a try…
V 4 Vending =
every third idea from 1984
and even the creative flip-flop casting
of John Hurt
as Big Brother
or is
it
the dude who’s waiting for the worms?
+
Jack White’s
whorerific van Dyck
experimentalpatient
+
the fury of the filth
and the filth of the fury
not including filthy
Colin Firth’s Furby collection
+
more unsuccessful masked adaptations
+
Stephen Rea
doing that Stephen Rea
I’m a cop, you idiot thing
but not in the Schwarzenegger way [d-lode]
+
those Matrix subway platforms
that made me wanna take the first train
to I’m leaving the theaterville
+
bangable bald chicks
that Bald Bull
hasn’t already banged
+
the art collection from DH‘s opening credits
+
the real man in black
not sum guy Joaquin Phoenix
sorta played in a movie
that everyone thinks weigh too highly of
+
Portman in the jail bait form we all know
and claim not to make love to
+
the opposite coolness of shooting
in an empty London
like they did in 28 Days Later
+
the mise en scene of
all things visual Franz Ferdinand
+
the real Anakin Skywalker
Sebastian Shaw
not
zebastard Hayden Chritisiaianianson
+
flubvs course
the real V
Recommended for those who like: Fry’s nose, Portman’s mole, and those who don’t care for Florence Henderson’s b-day suit [NSFW]
Possible Porno Name: V For Vaginal Beast Inspection (which I’m sure will one day become a hentai [NSFW])
Unsatisfied with this? Netflix any of the above mentioned moviezz, or the only goo Alan Moore book to movie conversion, From Hell… btw, where the fork is the berry talented Hughes’ bros next jazzle?
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Sum Merit But No Stinkin Badges. Aight, so it’s kinda sorta entertainin’, but tsk-tsk, and a tsk-it, a triscuit, a steve trachsel, for this shoulda been Breast In Show no diggty doubt using a be-dazzler. I’m still perplexed and mad vexed with all this over ripe tomatoing. Guess they were juss happy it wasn’t Matrix IV: Convolutions
Recognize this fine piece of 80’s movie a$$?? What, Bob Geldof looking aloof while tight pink panted 80’s movie a$$ walks by doesn’t give it away give it away give it away now? Well if yer dumb and founded I’ll speak and spell it out for you. I’ve been on a huge Floyd binge of late, due to their appy-pearance @ Bob Geldof’s Live 8, so I decided to revisit a dear olde friend of mine, The Wallalbum and film. And den what happened? Besides wanting to hide in a closet/jump out of a window/never shave off my eyebrows, I have re-fallen in love all over again with that fine piece of 80’s movie a$$ that belongs to one Jenny Wright, who played a cum guzzlin groupie in search of a back stage pass to give up dat a$$ to Geldof’s Floyd, while ‘Young Lust’ [d-lode] played in the background. Which brought me to my next quests called tribe: What ever became of her and where can I become all over her? Well, we know for a fact that’s she’s smoked fags in at least one flick and according to Mr Skin, she’s appeared nude in 5 films. But from 1998 on her whereabouts are unknown. Someone dig Robert Stack outta the grave cause we’ve got an unsolved mystery on our hands!! And Jenny, if yer reading this, I’ll offer you twice as much as I offered Jimmy Smits to make an appearance at my sis’ wedding to come over to my castle wearing them pink spandex and get yer sisterhoods of yer ya-yas out. If not, any dirty woman/girl will do. Email if interested, but brunettes need not apply.
• This year’s Siren Festival was purty darn schvitzy. We were there for 5+ hours and probably heard a total of 25 minutes of music. We was too busy eatin’, ridin’, and losin’ 7 dollars playin’ a dice game on the pier. Of course we followed up the day with a night at the Bohemian Beer Garden on the opposite side of the MTA map. Note to V-Voice: Next year please get bands I actually want to see like Mott The Hoople and King Crimson. Want more? Hit up the Vegan
• And C-Belle, could you and yer bushy brows please stop being so sporking hottieolicuous? You are even more very fine than Veryfine drinks. So fine that you blow my mind. So let me ring your Belle and I’ll let you blow my Blow Pops. (And be kind and rewind). All I know is that at the theater where I’ll be peeping your latest joint, The Chumscrubber, they will mos def need a jizzmopper.
28. Jun, 2010 
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and 
. And den what happened? Besides wanting to hide in a closet/jump out of a window/never shave off my eyebrows, I have re-fallen in love all over again with that 
