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Tonight, I should not have an excuse to avoid bed. Cold fried chicken awaits me (too bad throwing peppers on top of a sauce makes atomic wings from Wingstop nearly inedible, hence more cooking to be done) at home and my "Fucking Brilliant" journal is at least in the car. My streak of movie reviews will continue, provided I remember to take it from the car to the desk. Because of this, "Last Week Tonight" should be the only programming I need (Why did last night's episode of Comedy.tv have to to feature Maria Bamford? I needed sleep). There should be no need for me to access Amazon Prime to watch an 80's horror movie.
I do fear my satire is falling to the wayside by doing this movie catch up. It makes me reminisce of my second trip through Illinois Central College. Give me due dates, and I will deliver something to be defanged by the competent editor. My righteous butt appreciated the awareness during the second half of my time at ICC's newspaper, The Harbinger, but it was fun putting the reputation of the paper on the line with pro-steroid pieces.
Steroids, that is probably a good spot to stop tonight. Dolph Ludgren, Michael Jai White, Danny Trejo; these are all stars in the journal. The only other thing on my mind is how The Wrestling Compadres may have managed to prevent me from cancelling them for another month. Praise the "Tom Magee" documentary on the WWE Network while bad mouthing me for not wanting to watch a booking turd like "Money in the Bank" inspires to me to want to engage in their tit for tat, despite the number of times I have been edited for their own su-su-su-su-spect devices. Thrice, pro-feminism views had been cut.
All these movie reviews I am teasing have wrestling parallels, so I should stick to the transition, but when I think about all the times I have been edited, it makes me wonder if I should just try to podcast. My stuff looks good written, but how does it work for the audiophiles? Anchor (thanks for the tip Spotify) says it is easier than ever to find out.
Podcasting does seem to be about talking in circles, so my writing should be fine. At least I know it is better than that in..."Armed Response," the WWE film where I regret giving Seth Rollins 90 minutes to shine a turd, hence why I will not let his A.J. Styles's match inspire me to watch twice the poor writing to get to.
Check out the rest of this review at NinetyForChill.com - A More Acceptable Runtime.
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