Well? Would I?
Some more movie-related madness (oh, when does it stop? Soon, don't worry.).
Two days ago I was watching this little known film starring Hayden Christensen (you know, the future black-clad heavy-breathing paternal-type guy from Star Wars), called Shattered Glass. I really enjoyed this film, which is based on real events.
I'll give you a short plot outline:
This hot young reporter called Stephen Glass is working for the magazine the New Reporter. As this movie progresses you get the feeling that something is 'off' with this guy, and in the end you turn out to be right, because he has made up (yup, entirely made up) up to 14 articles for this magazine. But he did it in such a way that several editors and collegues did not notice. All in all, this guy turned out te be quite the liar.
After seeing this movie, I couldn't help but think the following - imagine, if you will, dinner at the Glass-residence:
□□□ □□□ □□□
Stephen Glass: - "Hmm, honey, this meatloaf's terrific."
The Missus: - " . . . "
SG: - "And you look lovely, too."
TM: - " . . . "
SG: - "Is something wrong, honey?"
TM: - "No. Why, should something be wrong?"
SG: - "Uh ooh."
---Meaningful but embarrasing silence, broken only by a series of small farts (the dog, the dog!)---
TM: - "Who's Emily?"
SG: - "Who?"
TM: - "Emily."
SG: - "I don't know, honestly."
TM: - "She came at the door today, asked specifically for you, even had a photograph of you, and asked when you were gonna fuck her again."
SG: - "I have no idea who this person is."
TM: - "After that we watched a video of the two of you together, which was shot on our anniversary. You were wearing a tutu and monkeys were involved."
SG: - "I didn't do a thing, I tell you. And I resent that accusatory tone of your voice."
TM: - "She had your autograph on parts of her body I didn't even know you could write on. I know, she showed me."
---And here comes the clincher---
GS: - "Honey, honey, really .. would I lie to you?!"
□□□ □□□ □□□
Wouldn't work, would it? The guy is fucked for life - he'll never be able to fuck girls named Emily in a tutu with the aid of several monkeys and a marker, ever again! Poor bloke.
Cheers
Two days ago I was watching this little known film starring Hayden Christensen (you know, the future black-clad heavy-breathing paternal-type guy from Star Wars), called Shattered Glass. I really enjoyed this film, which is based on real events.
I'll give you a short plot outline:
This hot young reporter called Stephen Glass is working for the magazine the New Reporter. As this movie progresses you get the feeling that something is 'off' with this guy, and in the end you turn out to be right, because he has made up (yup, entirely made up) up to 14 articles for this magazine. But he did it in such a way that several editors and collegues did not notice. All in all, this guy turned out te be quite the liar.
After seeing this movie, I couldn't help but think the following - imagine, if you will, dinner at the Glass-residence:
□□□ □□□ □□□
Stephen Glass: - "Hmm, honey, this meatloaf's terrific."
The Missus: - " . . . "
SG: - "And you look lovely, too."
TM: - " . . . "
SG: - "Is something wrong, honey?"
TM: - "No. Why, should something be wrong?"
SG: - "Uh ooh."
---Meaningful but embarrasing silence, broken only by a series of small farts (the dog, the dog!)---
TM: - "Who's Emily?"
SG: - "Who?"
TM: - "Emily."
SG: - "I don't know, honestly."
TM: - "She came at the door today, asked specifically for you, even had a photograph of you, and asked when you were gonna fuck her again."
SG: - "I have no idea who this person is."
TM: - "After that we watched a video of the two of you together, which was shot on our anniversary. You were wearing a tutu and monkeys were involved."
SG: - "I didn't do a thing, I tell you. And I resent that accusatory tone of your voice."
TM: - "She had your autograph on parts of her body I didn't even know you could write on. I know, she showed me."
---And here comes the clincher---
GS: - "Honey, honey, really .. would I lie to you?!"
□□□ □□□ □□□
Wouldn't work, would it? The guy is fucked for life - he'll never be able to fuck girls named Emily in a tutu with the aid of several monkeys and a marker, ever again! Poor bloke.
Cheers
6 Comments:
I'm a movie freak. So do you reconmmend the movie?
I think that story would be way more effective than the little boy who cried wolf. "And little Jimmy, I know you don't realize what you'd be missing by not fucking girls named Emily, but remember there will be monkeys there. You like monkeys don't you?" Ok maybe that wouldn't work out so well.
Cedia - yes I would.
Jay - I have no idea what you're on about; must be the culturegap.
Cheers
culture gap is right! martin what is that gobbly gook? meatloaf? glass? uh ooh?
je ne comprend pas!
Ich verstehe nicht!
Cheers
what? you've got venereal complications?
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