angelophile | Chapter 3 - In which I stop worrying about the competence of the Transformers movie writer...

Stolen from John Roger's webblog, Kung Fu Monkey. A recent conversation he had.

Tyrone: ... no, I'm not going to the new Dukes of Hazard movie. I hated the show as a kid.

John: What, just because their car had a huge symbol of southern oppression on the roof?

Tyrone: Yeah, something like that. Also the sneaking suspicion, that if the show were really about what life was like in the South in the '80's, you KNOW Uncle Jessie had some of the lynching postcards in that shack of his.

John: "... just some good ol' boys ... never meaning no harm ... burning down black chuuuurches ..." -- and we never saw how they got their money to keep that car so cherry either.

Tyrone: That's why Daisy was always in those tiny, uncomfortable cut-offs. They were pimping her out at the local Greyhound bus stop.

John: "Stop crying Daisy, you know we're short on our payment to Boss Hogg this week."

Tyrone: If the Narrator were honest, just once: "Hoo-wee, looks like them Duke boys done blown up their crystal meth lab and are in a heap o'trouble..."

John: Wouldn't that be great? If Roscoe P. Coltrane was really the hero, just trying to protect Hazard County from those two white-trash meth-head psycopaths who kept blowing shit up with their dynamite arrows?

Tyrone: If that were the movie, I'd go see THAT.