Sean Patrick Flanery’s career: One thing you can say about Joaquin Phoenix: He’s no Jim Belushi. While his recent decision to quit acting in favour of a hip-hop career is baffling, it’s commendable that he’s never marketed himself as the next best thing to his dead brother, River Phoenix. But you know who should? Sean Patrick Flanery, who, after Phoenix played the young Indiana Jones in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, succeeded him in the role in The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles. Flanery can use the work, so give him the Stetson and bullwhip once again, and there’ll be a better option than Shia LaBeouf to carry on the franchise after Harrison Ford realizes he’s too old. Better yet, letting Flanery take over another River Phoenix role solves the problem that’s always kept us from getting the Stand By Me sequel we’ve always wanted (by which I mean the sequel that the underemployed Wil Wheaton, Jerry O’Connell, and Corey Feldman have always wanted). And you know how My Private Idaho was based on Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 1? Well, now we can finally have a sequel based on Henry IV, Part 2.
Taken: Can someone put this up on YouTube? Start with the theatrical trailer for Liam Neeson’s Taken, and right after the part where he growls into the phone about how he’s going to use his special skills to rip the kidnappers a new one and the kidnapper says “Good luck” and hangs up, just cut to the clip from the Ransom trailer where Mel Gibson screams “Give me back my son!” into the phone. Except, where Mel says “son”, dub in the word “film.” Actually, if you really wanted to go nuts with the film editing, you could splice together footage from both movies to make a single buddy picture where Mel Gibson and Liam Neeson team up to rescue their kidnapped children. I’d watch that.
Crabwalking: Crabwalking, as usually defined as walking on all fours while facing upward, is just not a useful means of locomotion, except maybe as a method of cheating at limbo dancing. With sexually transmitted diseases constantly on the rise, it might be more useful for “crabwalking” to refer to a method of sauntering while discreetly scratching one’s crotch to relieve itching due to infestation of pubic lice.
Celebrity matchmaking: Speaking of pubic lice, I’m thrilled to learn that, after I suggested that Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty hook up, they apparently obliged with a public snog. (And if I paid more attention to celebrity gossip, I’d have known this last May.) Can the Wil Wheaton/Danica McKellar and Brandy Norwood/Matthew Broderick couplings be far behind? So, now that I’m a regular Cupid, here’s another couple with something in common that I want to hook up: Paris Hilton and Tiny Lister. Sure, they may not be a conventional-looking couple, but love is blind — or at least cross-eyed with a droopy eyelid.
Shameless cash-ins: Enterprising toymakers have recently come under fire for marketing commemorative dolls based on both Barack Obama’s daughters, Malia and Sasha, and murdered toddler Caylee Anthony. Fortunately, public pressure has, in both cases, forced the abandonment of both plans. But seriously, as long as you’ve sold your soul already, why stop at marketing regular dolls? Why not just go straight to hell and put out a commemorative RealDoll?
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