Standin' On Their Own Two Feet

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The numbering system of the Ocean's films must be really confusing to anybody who hasn't seen them, with the logical assumption being that Ocean's 8 would be a prequel to Ocean's 11. In which case I feel I should warn you now.. Ocean's 8 doesn't involve Sandra Bullock and Cate Blanchett running into a sex-change clinic to alter their identities with George Clooney and Brad Pitt limping out in a dress a few hours later. Although I suppose retconning the original Ocean's movies to reveal the characters were actually a devious gang of transexuals would admittedly show some balls. Literally. Rather, this new film takes place after the previous three but focuses instead on Debbie, the sister of Clooney's original Danny Ocean. Debbie, played by Sandra Bullock, is also a con-artist and thief with the film opening in much the same way as Ocean's 11 did; with her being released from prison. I'm not sure how one family could independently create two con-artists but I'm now also a lot more suspicious of whatever the fuck Clooney and Bullock were really up to at the start of Gravity. And seems as this thieving bullshit apparently runs in the family I think I'll be watching Billy Ocean a lot more closely from now on too.

Busting Makes Me Feel Good

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Since the announcement of Paul Feig's Ghostbusters reboot, it seems that the world has gone fucking mad. Alleged fans of the original saw an all-female cast and a fresh start for their long dead franchise, and rather than being grateful they reacted by screaming holy fucking jihad. The director and cast began receiving death threats as though they'd organised a mass bonfire of every copy of the original film and just before the burning had started they'd stood on top of the pile and taken one huge collective 'fuck you' dump. Except that's not what they did, is it? They had a vision for a property that had literally done piss-all since its crappy sequel was released in 19-fucking-89 and they made a movie. A movie that up until now nobody in the world had even seen. It's like a child waking up on Christmas day, seeing their un-opened presents, and despite having no idea what's inside, they start crying because it's not what they wanted. Well, as far as I'm concerned, children like that don't deserve presents. They deserve to be drowned in a fucking well.

Busting My Ghostly Cherry

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Personally, I don't believe in the supernatural because I'm both a grown up and not a complete fucking idiot. I'd hate to offend people by saying that everybody who claims to have seen a ghost is stupid as that's clearly not true... some of them are obviously just full of shit. When I was a teenager, I claimed that I was visited by ghosts every night, however that wasn't so much true as it was me desperately trying to explain away the ectoplasm that was splattered around my room. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I like the idea of being able to return to this world once I've snuffed it. On the one hand it'd be nice to believe that there was something more than this miserable life, but then on the other I'm not too keen on the idea of being watched in the shower by an invisible gang of dead perverts. Presumably, being a ghost is just like having invisibility as a superpower so, if there was any truth to this bollocks, then there'd be a shit load more hauntings in female changing rooms than seem to go reported. In fact, I like to imagine that Angelina Jolie wouldn't be an actress anymore either as she'd be too busy being possessed by beings that insist she spend the bulk of her day frigging herself off in front of a mirror... I think the key words in that last sentence were “I like to imagine”.