if you don't like this movie we can't be friends

  • Friend: "Let's watch Harry Potter!" *grabs Goblet of Fire*
  • Me: "Yesss! Let- what the fuck are you doing?"
  • Friend: "Well, I like this one-"
  • Me: "We watch them all from the beginning. You can't just jump ahead."
  • Friend: "We don't have enough ti-"
  • Me: "Bitch, we will make time. Sit down and shut up."

Americans: I can’t believe Netflix is getting rid of food network
Canadians: well Canadian Netflix removed a movie while I was in the middle of watching it for the third time this week and besides “cheese wars” all that’s left on here is 3 knock off 2 star “fight club"s where it’s just 30 year old men fighting in parking lots documentary style also what the fuck you guys had food network

BOY HAVE I GOT A STORY FOR YOU
  • One thing you should know about me is that I literally can't tell when I'm being hit on. This has the potential to create some interesting situations, especially on a night such as October 31, 2015, when, instead of going trick-or-treating like every previous year, I celebrated Halloween with my friends at a pub in Dublin's Temple Bar district and, apparently, inadvertently offered my services as a prostitute.
  • For my thorough cosplay of the Basil Rathbone incarnation of Sherlock Holmes, I was decked out in a tweed blazer, trench coat, black pants, and paisley ascot, holding a pipe, and looking extremely plain with no eye makeup (because why would Sherlock Holmes put on eye makeup?). After a nice slice of apple pie (I didn't feel like paying exorbitant drink prices) and some bants with a few proper English lads, we were approached by an American and a couple of his friends, who we later found out were members of the armed forces. The guy was wearing a SWAT team vest and holding a blowup doll, and he addressed me directly.
  • Him: Are you an investigator?
  • Me: *amused at the absurd situation but willing to play along* I'm a consulting detective.
  • Him: Well, I have a case I'd like you to investigate.
  • Me: *trying not to laugh and assuming that he's going for a LARP* How much are you willing to pay?
  • Him: How much do you need?
  • Me: *channeling Dr. Evil* One million dollars.
  • Him: You seem like you'd be worth it.
  • Me: *cocky; determined to stay in character* I am the best.
  • Him: Well, you see, we've got this dead body here *gestures to doll* and we don't know anything about her. We need you to identify which country she's from.
  • Me: Well, in season 2 episode 2 of BBC Sherlock, it is made perfectly clear that Sherlock Holmes is unable to draw deductions from unclothed bodies. Therefore, I'm afraid I can't help you.
  • Him: *rather taken aback* Unclothed bodies? Ok then. You really like Sherlock Holmes, don't you?
  • Me: *wondering why the highly accurate costume that I clearly put a lot of thought into does not make this immediately apparent* Yes, I do.
  • Him: Have you seen the movies with Robert Downey, Jr.?
  • Me: *wondering why he would test me by inquiring about mainstream Hollywood adaptations* Yes, I have.
  • Him: Congratulations. *shakes my hand* You're too smart for me.
  • Me: I'm Sherlock Holmes. What do you expect?
  • I was quite pleased with how the exchange had gone. After we left, my friends (trying not to die of laughter) informed me that the guy had been attempting to flirt with me and that I had unwittingly perpetuated double entendres about performing certain physical non-crime-solving acts in exchange for money. While I had not exactly trusted the fellow, I had remained completely oblivious (I still don't understand how I could have seemed like one to offer such services when I literally looked like a 19th century gentleman). But that's how I accidentally offered my body to a soldier for $1,000,000 and then shut him down with Sherlock Holmes knowledge.

that being said, i cannot fucking wait until the day when the 1st new movie of the “Transformers reboot” is released like 10-20 years from now and it’s actually good with like robots and plotlines and characters with personalities who aren’t killed off and we’re all sitting in the theatre with tears of joy pouring down our faces thinking “was Bayformers even real