Bruce Willis is going to star in a Broadway adaptation of Steven King’s Misery which chronicles a writer forced to live with a fat annoying chick who sledge hammers his lower limbs reminding everyone how fucking crazy female roommates are. I don’t attend stage plays since I bought a TV several years back and nobody I want to fuck insists upon it. But in my layman’s opinion, this seems like a bad idea. Movies allow for cuts and re-takes. On stage there’s no turning away from a squinty guy who says his name is Bruno and mumbles into a harmonica occasionally. If you want to get dressed up and shell out several hundred bucks impress your secretary you may as well take her to a male review starring the guy from Beverly Hills 90210. You can smoke your pipe while he gives it to her in the dressing room. That’s what you get for acting like a pretentious cunt rag. Grow a pair and attend the rodeo. She’ll thank you later.
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