There’s a new trailer out for the Robin Williams / John Travolta mid-age-crisis fuck bullet, Old Dogs, and before I unleash it on all of you, I really must share this email (with permission) that I received from Jennifer, an illustrious reader of ours, which perfectly essentiates the experience of watching the trailer. Here it is, in full:
My sister alerted me to a survey she is taking about a movie she is not supposed to discuss, but describes thusly:
“A movie called Old Dogs from the someoneorother of Wild Hogs. John Travolta and Robin Williams are old men, who inherit twin 7 year olds somehow…”
Apparently there exists a trailer for this harbinger of the end-days, and my sister watched it before she knew any better, and is convinced that her soul now comprises those bee-like things they kept puking up in Green Mile and she decided to infect me with them by putting the idea of this movie in my head. And now I’m sharing it with you, in case you’d like to use it as a Pajiban torture device.
Apparently they asked her, “Assuming you saw this movie in a theater and liked it, in what ways would you recommend it to other people?”
“Assuming I saw that movie in a theater and liked it, I would suspect that I had been drugged by scientologists. Who had also implanted receptors in my teeth, and maybe were trying to turn me into a thetan, because, if I saw that movie in a theatre and liked it, no level of paranoia would be too extreme, and I’m quite sure I would spend the rest of my life in a padded cell.”
That about sums it up, folks. Old Dogs: If you liked it, you’ve been drugged by Scientologists.