I am so over Quentin Tarentino. Granted, he wrote (but thankfully did not direct) the pitch-perfect “True Romance”. (Though there is a theory that his jilted writing partner, Roger Avary, actually did the bulk of the work on the script.) Sure he helped change the face of independent cinema with Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. But Quentin Tarentino has run out of original ideas. And with all the talk of his next two projects, I think it’s possible he never had any to begin with.
Tarentino is a professional fan boy who has made a career out of copying all the stuff he likes. Fortunately for him, he likes kind of obscure movies so it is a rare bird who will recognize what he has borrowed from. That is probably why he decided to go from plagiarism to straight up remakes.
First up is “Inglorious Bastards”, based on the 1978 Italian film about a group of insolent WWII soldiers whose only chance to save themselves from punishment for their misdeeds is by sneaking into a heavily guarded Nazi compound and stealing a secret weapon. So far there are a lot of casting rumors (Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio), but only one confirmed cast member: Quentin’s protege and BFF, Eli Roth.
Roth is the man who, in conjunction with the “SAW” franchise, helped popularize torture fetish films (Who needs character development or dialog when you can just bleed people slowly for an hour and a half?). Roth is as much of an actor as Tarentino himself. That is to say that he smirks his way through his lines while his more talented cast mates play around his high-school-drama caliber performance. I’m also sure there will be plenty of rambling monologues for everybody. Needless to say, I’m not so much looking forward to this one.
Then we have a remake of Russ Meyer’s “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!”. Early casting rumors name Britney Spears for a starring role. Why? I HAVE NO IDEA. Russ Meyer was known for casting ladies not as much for their acting ability as for…other…assets. And Quentin certainly has experience exploiting the ladies. But does Britney have any sex appeal left? She is a professional Jerry Springer tragedy, not a busty sex kitten. Is anyone still attracted to that? I bet she smells like Chicken McNuggets. I hate to say it but if Tarentino really can’t be creative about finding lesser known Russ-worthy ladies, he should just re-borrow the cast of “Sin City” and be done with it.
Why are we still celebrating the work of this middle-aged fan boy geek? Why are we still entrusting the Comic Book Guy with big budgets and A-list names? His early films were either a fluke or a scam. I got a baaaad feeling about this.
One additional perk which probably won’t last too long is that the flights were only half full. This means that the chance you’ll have a whole row to yourself is pretty good. I have a feeling this Virgin thing is going to catch on so you’ll probably have neighbors on both sides soon enough. But who cares? Just one of those leather seats is 50 times more comfortable than a whole row of sub-par competitors seats combined. 
You become convinced this is neither coincidence nor mental illness: somehow, this character is being actively based on your life. The show’s writers generally depict the “you” character in a positive manner, but as far as you can tell – you don’t know anyone involved in the show’s production or creation. It’s totally inexplicable. 
According to a tip on AICN, Johnny Depp has been 
It hit him in the chest, on the left. He was so close to me that when he fell forward, he landed on me, knocking us both to the ground. I pried him off of me and stood up. But then he came to and started to lift himself up as well. I saw that I had only him him in the shoulder! 
You are offered a Brain Pill. If you swallow this pill, you will become 10% more intelligent than you currently are; you will be more adept at reading comprehension, logic, and critical thinking. However, to all other people you know (and to all future people you meet) you will seem 20% less intelligent. In other words, you will immediately become smarter, but the rest of the world will perceive you as dumber (and there is no way you can ever alter the universality of that perception).
First up is the sad news that dear old John Waters has gone senile and 
You are told by friends and family that – when you were 25 – you (supposedly) became friends with someone you met on the street. You possess numerous photos of you and this person, and everyone in your life insists that this individual was your best friend for over 2 years. You were (allegedly) inseparable. In fact, you find several old letters and emails from this person that vaguely indicate you may have even shared a brief romantic relationship. But something happened between you and this individual when you were 27, and the friendship abruptly ended (and apparently you never told anyone what caused this schism, so it remains a mystery to all). The friend moved away soon after the incident, wholly disappearing from your day-to-day life. But you have no memory of any of this. Within the context of your own mind, this person never even existed. There is tangible proof that you deeply loved this friend, but – whenever you look at their photograph – all you see is a stranger. 
Effed by the Wind 