so, like, on tv last night

They played THAT movie.

The one responsible for THAT song.

And the second bit is going to be on the tube TONIGHT.

Celine Dion and THAT song should be placed in an air tight (preferably sound proof) capsule, fed to a constipated female silverback gorilla (PMSing preferable), and launched, anally, into outer space.

And then do it again with that dude who played the dude who died in the last bit. Except with a rhesus monkey who's been intravenously fed with laxatives for a month. He really grates my mozarella. The dude, not the monkey.

But not the chick who didn't die, because she is ever so scrumptious on the eyes. But she should never try to sing again. Ever.

That is all. Carry on.