Little Fockers!

It's times like these that I am glad to be living on the streets, eating out of dumpsters and wiping with ticket stubs. Little Fockers?

Give me your sweater!

This is some bull shot! 

Back in my hay day, or as I like to call it my roof-over-my-head days, my grandmothers taught me to never, EVER, spell my expletives incorrectly. These kids turned film makers think they can just run out to hollyforrest and make films without getting some sort of education!

Well fock that! 

I can't believe no one has noticed this yet! I tried to tell the pretty lady at the counter that there is a grave error on the marquee and that they should change it immediately. You know what she told me? She told me that is the actual name of the movie! Oh, I was so prissed that I slapped that botch across the face! She liked it. She's my girlfriend now. 

Anyway, I don't want to get too steamed here: I'm a lover not a verbal fighter, but I give this film, 

Two Forties DOWN!

 

I tried to turn them upside down, but I haven't learned how to do that yet. Guess I should take a class on blogging! Just stand on your head for now.

Now, excuse me while I go moke love to my new girlfriend!