Enter The Dragon is
widely hailed as one of the best kung-fu movies ever because it
includes Bruce motherfucking Lee and essentially stole the basic feel
of a Bond movie. The Roger Moore Bond movies are interesting because
half of them pretty much just stole from whatever was popular at the
time. In the case of the mid-70's that included kung-fu movies, which
is why you have all of that tacked-on martial arts stuff mid-way
through The Man With The Golden Gun.
In case you don't remember, it's the scene in which Bond defeats a
school of fighters that have been training their entire life by
surprise kicking one in the head and then promptly jumping out the
fucking window. The interesting thing about both Enter The
Dragon and The Man
With The Golden Gun is that not
only are they chasing each other like a circular human-centipede
consisting of two limber gymnasts, but they both basically have the
same ending too. In both cases the films end with the hero fighting
the main villain in a fun-house type arena which consists
predominately of mirrors. I guess that kind of set provides an
interesting challenge for the camera-team and keeps the actors morale
up as they get to spend the day looking at themselves and mentally masturbating.
If you were to slice open my veins, I swear
to God I'd bleed out cheese. When my Mum left, I suddenly lost a shit-load of
weight and for the first time in my life I was actually skinny. Not because I
wasn't eating by the way, but because suddenly I was responsible for whatever
shit I wanted to stuff into my greedy face. As it turns out, I pretty
exclusively love meat, bread and not much else. It took me a few months to
realise that I'd accidentally put myself on the Atkins Diet and was probably
one spoonful of mayo away from a full cardiac arrest. In a brief attempt to
remain alive, I therefore decided to go for a jog which to my surprise started
off quite well. In fact it was so easy that for a split second I thought that I
might actually be a runner and it'd just taken me this long to try it and
realise. It didn't last... by the second minute, I was basically just dragging
myself along the pavement unable to breathe and using what little energy I had
left to try and resist the urge to puke out my fucking lungs. Oh, and none of
that is counting the time I went so long without eating fruit that my lips
started to fall off and I became the first non-pirate ever to possibly catch
scurvy. To reiterate, I might not be fat but I am not a fit or healthy person.
