Category Archives: Adam Sandler

Gobble Gobble Goo and Gobble Gobble Gickel; I Wish Turkey Only Cost a Nickel

Now, most people, on Thanksgiving, make the obligatory Thanksgiving post. With the “thanks to my family and friends and God and my health!”

And that’s nice. It is! Very nice. I applaud that. And I thank all of those things. Well, I guess all of those things, I’m kind of up in the air about the God thing. No emotions there either way, honestly. But the rest? Sure. Family! Friends! Health! Awesome.

But today, on Thanksgiving, surrounded by all the thankfulness, because LISTEN, I am having a KICKASS day, thank you very much (I’m sure you all are, too, with your families and your turkeys and your stuffing and your jello salads – ok, maybe not so much those, UGH, travesty – and maybe even your football games or something, I don’t know, isn’t this a sports day or something?) I realized that yes, I do have to do a thankfulness post, only I have to be thankful for something that most people aren’t going to be thankful for today.

I would like to give thanks to my cellphone.

What? You’re thinking. THIS IS DISGUSTING. What an AMERICAN thing to give thanks to. WHAT ABOUT PEOPLE. Amy is HORRIBLE.

Please stick with me on this.

In April, I saw a commercial advertising a cellphone plan with unlimited internet and texting for a price I could afford. I’d been mulling over getting a cellphone, because my cellphone at the time was kind of like this:

And you know, it’s not so easy to get online on something like this. Unless maybe you bludgeon someone with a laptop with it, and steal their laptop.

So I had a little money in the bank, and I looked at the available phones, and I saw the first phone above. And OH, was it pretty. And small. And Google-ready. And I fell in love with it on the website. And apparently, so did the rest of the world, because it was sold out almost immediately. So I waited. Impatiently. And then! Restocked. So I – technophobe me – bought a cellphone that could GO ONLINE.

So for the first month or so, I played a lot of games on it. That was nice. I mean, kind of unsatisfying? But nice enough. And I looked up a lot of things on Google. And I texted people, because I could do that now. And I checked Facebook a lot. But then I thought, you know, you HAVE a fancy cellphone. You know what you could do with this? Join Twitter. That might be fun!

So first I researched Twitter. The overwhelming consensus was “Twitter sucks.” But when everyone tells me not to do something, I usually do it, because I’m pretty stubborn, and other people suck. So I joined Twitter, and for the first couple weeks, meh, you know? Like, it was nice to see what celebrities were up to, I suppose. But no one really talks to you or anything. Except Amanda. I’m totally thankful for Amanda being as awesome and hysterical and funny and sweet and sarcastic as she is.

Then Joe Hill – hey, I’m thankful for Joe Hill, are you reading Joe Hill? DO IT – tweeted about a new book club. The Geek Girls Book Club. Now, I’m a geek! And a girl! And I totally dig books! And that sounded like fun. I’d always wanted to be part of a book club, but didn’t know how to go about that in the real world. So I joined this book club, hoping I’d be geeky enough.

Guess what this book club was? Kind of the best thing that ever happened.

I know. You weren’t expecting this to get sappy. You thought, HEY, this started SO SARCASTICALLY, what’s with the sap. Sorry. Bait & switch. It’s Thanksgiving.

The #GGBC (Twitter hashtag, in case you’re all “what’s with the pound sign?”) is a group of the most amazing people you’ll ever meet. We discuss books, sure. But we also discuss everything else, ever. And hey, are you sad? They’ll talk to you down. And hey, are you celebrating something? They’ll cheer with you. @nikkisticks put this group together, and do you ever want to meet a superhero? She’s one. A real-LIFE one. No joke.

So, about a month into being part of this amazing group of people, I thought, hey. You know what might be fun? I read all of these amazing blogs. (I’m not going to link you to all of the blogs that inspired me to be this ridiculous daily, but they, along with new shiny finds, are on the right over there, if you’re reading this on my homepage. And, people who inspired me to be this ridiculous daily? Thanks. Alternately, I’m sorry.) So what if I started a blog? I mean, if it sucks, I could always stop. Good night, sleep well, I’ll most likely kill you in the morning, you know?

Lucy’s Football happened. And hey. GUESS WHAT. People LIKED it. I know! I didn’t think anyone would read it! It started with my #GGBCers. Who told people. And then people started following me on Twitter. And more people started telling more people. And now LIT-ra-lly (sorry, I totally can’t say literally without Chris’s Parks and Rec voice in my head) hundreds of people read me ramble every day. It is CRAY-CRAY.

So apparently, my domination of the interwebs was not complete, because then three of my favorite #GGBCers said, “Hey, Amy, want to start a collaborative blog?” and what do you say when someone throws a purring kitteh of awesomeness in your lap? “No thanks, I’m good?” NO. You say, “HELLS YES WHEN AND WHERE BITCHES.” The Loser’s Table was born.

Then I got the opportunity to work with MORE sparkly awesome kittehs of awesomeness on Insatiable Booksluts. I mean, this has become more BRAGGING than THANKFULNESS. I don’t think that’s what the pilgrims meant. I’m pretty sure there should be more maize, too.

And how many awesome people do I have in my life that I didn’t last year at this time? I can’t name you all. Primarily because some of you probably don’t want anything to do with this brag-ass post that is masquerading as thankfulness. But seriously, I love you guys.

So let’s recap, shall we?

Thankful for:

  1. My cellphone, which led to all of this awesomeness
  2. Twitter, which introduced me to some of the most amazing people in the world
  3. The #GGBC, because you befriended me, made me realize, for the first time in my life, it’s ok to be a geek, made me laugh, and confidenced me up
  4. The people who read my blog every day, even though I’m not 100% sure why you do, and you seem to think I know what I’m doing, which scares the shit out of me, but please don’t stop
  5. The people who think I write well enough to want me to work with them on THEIR blogs, which, seriously, are you sure? OK, wow
  6. My internet friends, who my father insists aren’t real, but I’m pretty sure they are, or else it’s a REALLY well-orchestrated plot, and kudos
  7. My real-life friends, who actually hang out with me face-to-face, even though I’m kind of socially inept
  8. My long-distance real-life friends, who are the most supportive people and who have stuck around me for years, and again, I’m not sure why? But I love you guys so much it gives me an ice cream headache
  9. My BFF W., who I love more than pretty much anyone in the world ever ever ever and who sends me honey badger pictures to shore up my confidence, lets me text him when I am freaking out about, well, pretty much anything, and never, ever, EVER, even when it’s warranted, makes me feel like a weirdo
  10. My family, genetic and extended, who passed down all this awesome strangeness and remain supportive, hysterical, and kick-ass
  11. And the simple fact that, a year ago today, I was not in the place I am today; and today, this place I am in? Is fantastic, and I love it.

See? You THOUGHT you were going to get some love song to LG, didn’t you. Well. I love my phone. So much so, that when I thought my office was on fire last week, it’s the only thing I saved and I almost froze my ass off standing outside without a coat on. But I love the things it brought into my life more. And those things are people.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Thank you for reading, and continuing to read. I love you all to death, even though I won’t admit it probably any day but today. SHOW NO WEAKNESS. Except on a holiday built around fowl and carb consumption.

(Also, Happy Thanksgiving, Adam Sandler. Even though I hate your new movie trailers with the fire of a million suns, I stole lyrics from your “Thanksgiving Song” for my post title. I wish I could quit you, baby.)

You say that we’ve got nothing in common; no common ground to start from

I think I’m broken.

I realize that everyone has their individual taste in what’s good and what’s not, etc., etc., ad infinitum, blah blah, vomit. Whatever. But this weekend, I watched Blue Valentine. Which has very good ratings, overall. Like, Rotten Tomatoes gave it an 88%. That’s pretty good, right? And Michelle Williams was nominated for an Academy Award for her performance. And Ryan Gosling! RYAN GOSLING, you guys. Whose adorable mug makes me smile DAILY on both Feminist Ryan Gosling and Typographer Ryan Gosling.

I hated the shit out of this movie.

The problem was, I guess (and I will try not to completely spoil you but there will be spoilers here, sorry, can’t be helped), that both of the characters were kind of annoying. Plot in a nutshell: two hipsters meet, fall in love, marry, and their marriage implodes. Fine. And I guess it gets points for being very real. And very gritty. I remember reading that the director had Williams and Gosling improvise most of the dialogue and live together for a while as if they were their characters. Well, that was obvious. The dialogue came across as VERY improv night at a community theater. I went to a lot of improv nights in college, because I knew people in the troupe, and when the actors didn’t know what was coming next, they’d repeat what was just said to them in the hopes someone would save them. This happened a lot in this movie.

Sample dialogue from Blue Valentine (not real dialogue):

Gosling: I am angry.

Williams: You are angry?

Gosling: Yes. Yes, I am angry.

Williams: You are angry.

Gosling: Dammit. Yes. Yes, I am angry.

Williams: I, too, am angry.

Gosling: You are also angry?

Williams: Yes.

Gosling: Well. In that case, we are both angry.


It was true, I guess. I mean, I don’t need every movie to have a happy ending, or to be tied up in a little bow and be presented to be on a silver platter for me to like it. And listen, I love to cry. I actually was looking forward to a good cry when I put the DVD in. But I did not cry. These two people just totally frustrated the hell out of me. I just wanted to shake them and ask them what the hell did they EXPECT to happen, what kind of world did they LIVE IN where they thought everything turned out happy happy joy joy all the time and that people change once you marry them and that good things happen to people that deserve it?

It was so bleakly depressing that I wanted to take up cutting or start pulling out my eyelashes or something. Gah.

So maybe I’m broken and can’t appreciate the art of fine cinema, I don’t know.

Then my friend R. emailed me the other day and asked if we’d watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s together once, because she vaguely remembered we had, and she and her husband A. watched it together this past weekend and he hated it so much just a little bit in he left the room. And I thought about it, and I realized that YES, we DID watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s, which, again, high ratings (also 88% on Rotten Tomatoes – what’s with this trend?) and was nominated for, and won, multiple Academy Awards, and people just lurrrrve this movie, and you know what? HATED IT. I totally HATED IT.

Reasons I hated Breakfast at Tiffany’s?

  1. Holly Golightly was such a friggin’ flake that I wanted something really bad to happen to her so she would just come right the hell down to earth and stop being so flighty and annoying and “I’m ETHEREAL! Nothing MATTERS! Aren’t I just so CUTE!”
  2. She would not name her cat. Then she releases her cat into the rain because it needed to be free or some such nonsense, I don’t know. Because you know there’s nothing than housecats like better than being alley cats. Then she’s all, “Oh now I WANT THE CAT BACK.” Shut up, you stupid fruit fly. You’re an animal abuser.
  3. What the hell was going on with Mickey Rooney and his totally racist Asian impersonation I could have died. Here is a photo. 

Every time he came on the screen I wanted to find him and throw Pocky at him to make him stop. Who thought this was a good idea? Were there no Asian actors in 1961? I bet there were. There really was no excuse for this.

Good thing about Breakfast at Tiffany’s? Young George Peppard.

I have a thing for old-time hunks. My top two are:

Marlon Brando before he got weird. Possibly the hottest man who ever lived.


James Garner, "The Great Escape"-era. He used to be so handsome you would totally just die.

Everything looks better in black and white. Everything.

Anyway, my thoughts about Breakfast at Tiffany’s are best summed up, Mary-Katherine Gallagher-style, in these lines from the song “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Deep Blue Something:

“And I said, what about Breakfast at Tiffany’s?
She said, ‘I think I remember the film, and
as I recall, I think we both kinda liked it.’
And I said, ‘Well, that’s the one thing we got.’”

This is the SADDEST and MOST PATHETIC REASON to stay together EVER EVER EVER. OK, so you’re about to break up. And the guy’s last-ditch effort to keep you together is, “Hey! Remember that time we watched that movie? THAT MOVIE REMEMBER?” And you respond, “Yes, I kind of recall…um, we both sort of liked it? I guess? Kind of?” And he replies with “WE’VE GOT THIS BABE WE’RE MEANT TO BE THEN.”

Also, the name of your band is Deep Blue Something. It’s like you’re not even trying. “Deep Blue…oh, I don’t know.” “Well, we have to put SOMETHING.” “That’s it.” *DEEP SIGH* “Deep Blue SOMETHING.” “Please leave me alone with my ennui.”

So then after realizing I apparently hate all things that people love, I looked into it and realized that YES I am totally BROKEN because here, here are the other things I hate. Some of which you might be like, ok, whatever, I can deal with that. But the last two will probably send you screaming for the hills. Especially the last one. You’re going to hate me. And take away my geek membership card. Sorry in advance.

Jerry Macguire (85% on Rotten Tomatoes)

The reason I hate this is Tom Cruise. Also, I think the whole “you had me at hello” thing is TOTAL BULLSHIT. She was so selling herself short. He was such an asshole! And he only really liked her because she was useful to him, and also he liked her kid (who I wanted to bop in the head, he was so weird and annoying.) And so he shows up after pretty much dumping her flat, and gives her this pathetic speech about how she completes him, and she stops him and tells him “You had me at hello.” And all the girls are all “SQUEE SQUEE.”

Well, here. Let’s put aside my Cruise hatred for a minute. Also, I think Zellweger looks like a squinty duck. But first? I don’t want a guy who says I complete him. Because that means he isn’t whole to begin with. Who wants some half-man? I want a WHOLE man. Because I’m whole. And together, we make TWO COMPLETE PEOPLE. We’d totally be a force to be reckoned with, these two people. Not two people who weren’t whole to begin with and rely upon one another to fill in each other’s gaping holes and are all codependently propping one another up.

Second, “you had me at hello?” Do you know what that means? “Just by showing up at my door you’ve won.” That means “don’t bother trying too hard because I’m pretty easy.” I can’t even imagine having self-esteem so low that a guy just SHOWING UP makes you capitulate. I mean, my self-esteem’s in the basement, but I’d still have closed the door in that bastard’s face. See how complete he felt standing out in the cold with his big old gaping hole of emptiness all filled with wind and outdoor things like leaves and shit.

Everything Woody Allen has ever done, ever, but especially Annie Hall

I think Woody Allen is the whiniest thing in the planet. I know! To most people, he is like unto a God. And that’s nice. That’s so nice! I don’t care. People just ADORE Annie Hall. I saw this when a guy I wanted to bone brought it to my apartment in college for me to watch with him. He was so into it and by the time it was done I no longer wanted to bone him because how could you be sexually attracted to someone who thought that was a good idea? I’d go more into detail but I don’t remember enough about it to and I don’t care to research it because of the whininess. I also find Jerry Seinfeld to be akin to Woody Allen and also hate Jerry Seinfeld and hated his show. I KNOW YOU TOTALLY WANT TO BRAIN ME WITH A HAMMER RIGHT NOW.

The Sound of Music

This is the one I’m pretty sure you’re all screaming “blasphemy” about and getting very up-in-arms. I hate this movie. I won’t even watch it. Those kids creep me the hell OUT. With the singing and whatnot. And the father was so mean and what the hell with the seducing of a nun. And also it’s about Nazis or something and what’s so cheerful about Nazis. And her favorite things were stupid. And that puppet show made me want to impale myself on a cast-iron fence. I HATE THIS MOVIE SO SO HARD. And I KNOW no one else in the WORLD hates this movie. I told you, I am BROKEN.

And now…ready? Ready to take away my official geek membership card? I mean, I debated holding this one back, but no. IT IS TIME I COME CLEAN.


The Star Wars Trilogy

I know.


OK, if you can stop screaming “what the HELLLLL” for a minute, please listen.

If the entire movie was just Han Solo being young Harrison Ford in tight, tight pants, then I wouldn’t have this problem. But it wasn’t.

I could not stand Mark Hamill. He annoyed me so much. I WANTED him to be killed. This was probably not what you were supposed to want to happen. (I have an irrational dislike of blonde, blue-eyed men. I’m pretty sure in a past life I was harassed by one of the Aryan brotherhood.) Princess Leia was also not my favorite thing, although she did not annoy me as much as Luke did. I thought Han Solo could do better.

I didn’t watch these movies all the way through until college when a boy I dug (different one than the Annie Hall boy SHUT UP IT WAS COLLEGE THERE WERE A PLETHORA OF BOYS) thought it was blasphemous that I had not seen them so he made me watch all three back-to-back and I kept falling asleep and he kept making me wake up so I wouldn’t miss things and I just wanted it to STOP ALREADY.

I don’t know why. Don’t ask, because I don’t know. I realize they were a huge step for the geek community and appreciate that. I understand that they were impressive, special-effects-wise. I GET ALL THAT. I do not like them.

I thought for a while it was an outer-space thing, until I watched Firefly and totally dug that so that theory went out the window.

Do I watch them again without the distraction of the boy? Do I let it go? I’m leaning toward letting it go. I really don’t want to watch them again. Oh, and Yoda freaked me OUT. I don’t like puppets. Especially puppets with syntax issues.

So, yes. I’m broken. I’m totally, completely broken. I cannot appreciate good cinema when it reveals itself to me. SORRY WORLD I AM NOT PERFECT.

Pass the popcorn, I’m going to watch Billy Madison for the 40 millionth time. It’s too damn hot for a penguin to be just walking around here. CINEMATIC GENIUS I CAN’T EVEN.

Dear Adam: A Very Public Break-Up Letter

Dear Adam:

I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I’m breaking up with you.

I would say “it’s not you, it’s me,” in order to spare your feelings, but it’s totally you.

It was the photo that did it. Don’t act all innocent and”what photo, baby?” You know what photo. You’re well-aware whatphoto. THIS GODDAMN PHOTO.
I actually choked on my dinner a little when I saw this inEntertainment Weekly, Adam.
Further investigation tells me that your most recent”movie” (yes, my darling, those are sarcastic quotes) Jack and Jill has youstarring as both your character AND YOUR OWN TWIN SISTER. And that Joey Potterwill be playing your wife.
That was when I knew I had to call this quits.
No, now, don’t try to argue. We’ve had a good run, you andI. Do you remember when we met? I was in high school and you were on SaturdayNight Live. Those were good days, Adam. You were young. I was young. You mademe laugh. I’ve always been a sucker for a man who can make me laugh. I stillam, Adam. Which is why we’re breaking up, to be honest. The laughs, they’vejust stopped coming.
“Red Hooded Sweatshirt.” “The ChanukahSong.” “Canteen Boy.” “Lunchlady Land.” I loved youand your silly ways.
Then I got older, and we grew apart. I never forgot you,Adam. Please don’t think that I did! I just got in with another crowd, theindie-film types, the musicians. There was a lot of eyeliner and angst.
Years later, I met another man who made me laugh, and oneday it was very hot where we worked, and he said, “It’s too damn hot for apenguin to be just walkin’ around” and that was funny, so I asked him whatit was from, and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “BillyMadison?” he said. “You haven’t seen Billy Madison?”
So I rented Billy Madison, and I remembered the good timeswe used to have, Adam, and how much you made me laugh. Then Happy Gilmore.Mixed Nuts. Airheads. And we were back together! The man who made me laugh wasno longer in the picture, but you stayed. And we were very happy together.
Then The Wedding Singer. This was a new thing – you? In aromantic comedy? I decided to give it a go. I mean, there had been romance inthe other films, but silly, jokey romance, and this was an actual date movie.And Adam! You were wonderful! As was the film! And even though I hated DrewBarrymore going into it (don’t ask, she and I had some tough times, her “freespirit/stripping in front of David Letterman” schtick made me weary), Icame out of it with new appreciation for her and new respect for you! And yes,I even forgave you for cheating on me with her in the movie. We could move pastthat! True love conquers all!
I bought your comedy albums – on cassette tape, becausethat’s all I had in my car – and listened to them over and over. Your voicecheered me up after bad days at work. It was a good time for us, Adam. We werehappy, weren’t we?
Then Dirty Work – not your finest hour, but you were helpingyour old Saturday Night Live buddy Norm out, I get it – and then The Waterboy.Um. Well, we’re all allowed a misstep now and then. I mean, I’m not perfect. Noone is! No one at all. And the movie did well enough in the box office. Andfrat boys seemed to be quoting it a lot. So you had that going for you.
Big Daddy. Well, it wasn’t the worst thing ever. You werematuring, as was I. You wanted to make something more family-friendly. I getit! It actually had some touching moments, and Jon Stewart was in it, so howcan that be wrong? I stood by  you.That’s what you do, when you’re in love, right?
Oh, but then, Adam, you redeemed yourself. And sobeautifully. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, because this was, I wassure, your crossover movie; this was what would launch you from comedy todrama; this was your Clooney-esque step from Facts of Life to ER. Punch DrunkLove. I loved it to distraction. I watched it in the theater the day it wasreleased; I bought the DVD the day it came out. “I have a love in my life.It makes me stronger than anything you can imagine.” Yes. YES. I knew Ihad backed the winning horse. This would go down in history as your definingmoment.
And then you made Mr. Deeds.
This was bewildering, to say the least. This wasn’t even amovie. This wasn’t even a blip on the radar of Hollywood history. This was aremake that didn’t need to be remade that you seemed to be sleepwalkingthrough. What was going on? What exactly was going through your head? But Istill saw it in the theater. I did. For you.
Then The Hot Chick. Eight Crazy Nights.
Listen, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, here, butlet’s put our cards on the table. This is when I started to pull away from you,emotionally. I didn’t see either of these movies. And I still haven’t, despitethe fact they’ve been on cable ad infinitum since. Perhaps this is a betrayalof some sort; if so, I’m sorry. But Rob Schneider is a BAD INFLUENCE ON YOU. Heis the most annoying little booger I have ever watched. I hated him on SaturdayNight Live and I hate him in everything you deign to allow him to co-star in.No. Just, no. And then an oddly-animated comedy based on a song you sang eightyears ago? I mean, it’s a funny song, but really? This seems like poor timing,doesn’t it?
I’ll admit I saw Anger Management in the theater. I felt bad;I missed you. I felt worse when I left. I had nothing nice to say. Nothing atall.
Where did my Adam go? My sweet, dorky, funny Adam? What wasgoing on?
50 First Dates – eh, it reeked of “we really had magicwith The Wedding Singer so LET’S TRY AGAIN!” but didn’t quite hit themark. Spanglish – not bad, nice try, some nice moments, but I knew you could dobetter – you did, in Punch Drunk Love – so, again, it didn’t quite hit themark.
I didn’t see The Longest Yard. I’m sure I had a reason. Ormaybe I didn’t. You know, I just don’t think I cared enough to see it. Therewere sports in it, I think. And it was another remake. And the trailer bored meto tears. I’m not even apologizing for this.
Click was manipulative enough to make me cry but onlybecause anything with a Christmas-Carol-esque “this is what could be”angle always gets to me. So that was mean. I see what you were trying to do – win me back by manipulating me with tears. Well, that’s a shitty thing to do, Adam, after all we’ve been through! And also it kind of sucked big olddonkey dick, to be quite frank. No amount of tears makes THAT go away.
I had high hopes for Reign Over Me. I really did. A 9/11movie? Good. A serious drama? Good. Sorry. I really, really couldn’t handle it.It wasn’t well-done. I think you tried. I don’t think it was all your fault. Itwasn’t the best script.
I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry. Bedtime Stories.You Don’t Mess with the Zohan. At this point, it’s like you’re writing randomscript ideas on a dartboard and throwing darts while drunk and then making amovie of whatever the dart hits. Did you honestly think any of these were agood idea? NO, I didn’t SEE them! That’s not the POINT! Did anyone see them?They’re EMBARRASSING! Your NAME is on these! Every time I go to the goddamnhair salon they’re playing You Don’t Mess with the Zohan on some sort of Satanic endless loop and I want to throwmyself into the hot wax vat to get away from how AWFUL it looks! Please make itstop!
Also, were you trying to be pro-gay-rights with I NowPronounce You Chuck and Larry, or make fun of gay people? Because I foundit really derogatory, in a childish “hee hee GAY PEOPLE they have GAYSEX” way, and I just wonder if that was on purpose? Because really? Youwere 41 when you made this. You work in the entertainment industry. Which, I’massuming, if it’s anything like the theater industry, is heavily populated withgay people. So you were just ok with being third-grade giggly about people youprobably work with on a daily basis? Hmm.
The cracks in our relationship, Adam, are growing wider andwider. You see that, right?
I went to the theater for Funny People. But honestly, I wentfor Seth Rogen, and because it looked like it would be a drama. One moment gotto me – the one near the beginning where your character was looking over videosof his career. Because there were actual videos of your actual career in there.When you were funny. Back before – well, whatever all of this is happened. So Icried, there. Because I missed you.
Otherwise, again? More donkey-dick suckage.
Just Go With It – no thanks, I don’t think I will. TheZookeeper? Um. No. No, no. Talking animals? No.
Honestly, until today, I thought, Adam and I, we’re cool.He’ll keep making these generic, stupid movies and I’ll go on ignoring them aswell as I can and it will always be a sore spot, but I’ll always love him.
Well, until today. Until I saw THE PICTURE.
Really? REALLY? This – this is heretofore unknown DEPTHS ofsuck. I can’t even DESCRIBE how disturbing this is to me. WHO TOLD YOU THIS WASA GOOD IDEA. This isn’t even a Freaky Friday-like thing. Do you know what thisis? This movie should be subtitled “A man! In a dress! Isn’t that theFUNNIEST THING YOU’VE EVER HEARD OF? Right? Right? I mean, it’s a MAN! InWOMEN’S CLOTHES! OMG, HA HA HA!”
Adam. ADAM! I’m sorry. I just can’t. I can’t anymore.
Don’t you remember your own quote from Happy Gilmore?”Why you don’t you just go HOME? That’s your HOME! Are you too good foryour HOME?” Your home is stupid but well-written and very quotablecomedies, romantic comedies, and we KNOW you can pull off drama, if it’swritten and directed well. Go home, Adam.
Your home is not cross-dressing movies. Your home is alsonot the next two movies you have coming out, which IMDb tells me are somethingcalled I Hate You Dad where you’re either playing Leighton Meester’s dad or herboyfriend (please don’t let it be her boyfriend, babe, you’re 45 years old andshe’s barely out of Juicy sweatpants) and the voice of Dracula in HotelTransylvania (I don’t know and I don’t want to know what’s going on there.)
Adam. ADAM! I’m sorry. Stop begging. It’s not becoming. ITIS OVER. I will cherish our time together. It will always mean so much to me.When one of your movies comes on, I will watch it and smile. (Unless it wasmade after 2002, then I’m changing the channel, sorry, nostalgia doesn’t mean Ihave to sit through garbage.) 
Please know I will always love that young man who sang”Hoagies and grinders, hoagies and grinders, navy beans, navy beans, navybeans, navy beans.” It’s like he was singing into my soul.
Oh, and watch out for Cruise. I assume you had somelip-action with little Joey Potter in your upcoming movie; ask Matt Lauer,Cruise can be MEAN. He’ll get ALL up in your grill. He’s got the power of CRAZYon his side, dude. Best run if you see that train a’comin’.
All my best, but please stop calling me, because I totallymean it, we’re through,

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