I forgive you
1 note
for when Viggo Mortensen and I get married and buy a Chinese baby:
Pilates Homunculus.
It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
Pilates Homunculus Mortensen.
Dear Nekkid Viggo,
I have a pair of tickets for my Philadelphia Flyers vs. your Montreal Canadiens on 11/25 at 3pm. Will you be my date? I’ll even buy you a cheesesteak and a beer. I promise I won’t expect you to put out. But if you wanted to, that would be all right. If I can remember how to do that sort of thing.
Love,
me.
Today is both Viggo Mortensen’s and Snoop Dogg’s birthday. I was trying to find a photo of the birthday boys together but it does not appear they have been photographed together or it would have shown up before Snoop and Pee Wee.
And before Snoop and Martha.
Tags:
viggo mortensen
hawt
ponies
Not even Viggo Mortensen (or as I like to think of him, “Naked Viggo”) could save this sorry sack of made-for-tv schlock. This was truly terrible. I didn’t have high hopes for it, based on the barely more than 2 star rating Netflix guessed for me (or the viewers average rating, whichever) but I also didn’t know it was made for TV or I probably would have skipped it altogether.
My DVR has been acting up lately, movies will freeze midway, but no, not this time. I was hoping it would so I had a reason to turn it off. As if the crappitude wasn’t reason enough, but sometimes I am a glutton for punishment.
The original was cool. This was not.
(BUT—there is a sticker on the DJ’s banner of a local ska band, Ruder Than You! which was founded by a couple of guys I have known since kindergarten!)