You all know how territorial I can sometimes get with the new movie reviewer on the block, or even with anybody randomly voicing their stupid opinion about movies, even on the bus, so it may not surprise you to learn that I am in an absolute huff this morning about the two (or more?) new movie critics everyone is talking about, The Oscars.
It all started with a tweet from @LemonReilly yesterday evening that kept me up all night, honestly. Ampersat Lemon Reilly said:
I caught my breath and felt an intense pain in my lower intestine, as though I had had meatlover’s pizza for dinner. The words of Ampersat Lemon Reilly were blurry and the room where I was taking my bath (the master bath) began to spin. I could feel the sweat break out on my forehead and on both legs, which were underwater. Hours passed, or was it only seconds, as I pictured hundreds of ways to make The Oscars suffer humiliation, physical discomfort and death without getting caught by the police.
If you have information about who these Oscars are please reach out to me immediately. There will be a hefty reward provided for contact information such as telephone number or actual Los Angeles street address.
Thank you. Please help me. Thank you.
Mitchell Kennedy
