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Get real, Glen

Paso Robles



After reading Starkey and Gang’s review of Tropic Thunder (“Not retarded! Aug. 21, 2008), I called my movie-buddy, Dennis Curry, and told him that Starkey had given the Stiller flick an unbelievable full $10. Dennis was as surprised as I was, but said he couldn’t go with me because he was taking his son to the dentist to have his wisdom teeth extracted.

Quote Starkey: “One of the greatest satirical achievements in recent cinematic history.” Unquote. On the strength of that I ventured forth to the Park Theatre alone. I admit that I laughed—maybe five or six times, about as often as I checked my watch to see how much more of the silly crap was yet to come. Afraid I might miss some stray nugget of accidental brilliance, I endured the entire 107 asinine minutes, leaving at last with a bad taste in my mouth and wondering what in hell Glen Freaking Starkey had been thinking.

My theory is that he had just had his wisdom teeth pulled and was still tanked on laughing gas when he watched this vulgar, dumb-ass film.

Glen, your mistake was you went full retard. You never go full retard. Everybody knows that.

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