I'm about to watchKung Pow: Enter the Fist, and I fear that it may enrage me so much that my heart will pop like an overripe pimple and that aneurysm in my brain will finally burst and my left eye will fill with blood so that when I fall on the floor breathing my last, the world will seem half-red.
With my luck, I'll fall over facing the MF-ing TV and the last thing I see will be this wretched, Orientalist, cinematic bowel movement.
I sure hope not.
See you after the credits, if I live that long.
If we don't support the movies that deserve it, we get the movies that we deserve.