#OH YEAH also obligatory ''it's all capitalism''/''fuck capitalism'' but like. i wanted to break it down more

[sepulchral-pulchritude]

forgive me my ignorance (<-not sarcastic, this really is an area i know very little about), but my perspective as a consumer (for car insurance specifically), is this: my big issue is that insurance is REQUIRED to register and drive a car (at least in all the states I've lived in) and driving a car is basically required to have and hold a job.

to be fair, the second thing is more of the problem, but notwithstanding major legislation to expand public transportation which has yet to materialize, the situation is that i have to be able to drive to make enough money to live in a home, and the car insurance company can basically name their price (notably this issue is part of what is so heinous about medical insurance also)

and to be fair to insurance companies, even if they were trying to be good and give the best possible prices to their customers, they are at the whims of the larger markets -- the prices on medical bills (ballooned by medical supply companies and pharma companies basically extorting them), the prices of car parts, the price of gasoline to transport those car parts, probably lots of other market stuff I don't know because like I said i do not know much about this. so there is a bunch of risk the insurance company has to take as well. it is in their interest to act like a company, a money-making entity.

notably, as a profit-seeking entity, they then also find themselves relying on statistics as per @cobrilee's tags, and relying on those kinds of statistics ends up reinforcing institutionalized prejudice. you want redlining? this is how you get redlining.

in the process of writing this post, i looked up the official reason why car insurance is mandatory in 48 out of 50 states. the given reason? public safety.

specifically the idea that if you are hit by a car at no fault of your own, that you should not be expected to pay your medical bills. and i basically agree! that is an assumption that seems fair to buy into as part of living together in a cooperative society. (i will note that who "you" is can really determine who gets to be "at fault" buuuuut we cannot disentangle all of society's prejudices in one go so moving on)

but you know what? if it's for public safety, why is it being handled by entities that are necessarily driven by profit?

the fact is that having and driving a car is basically a requirement to be a working (usamerican) adult, but that it is regulated like it is a luxury item and it is really frustrating. if insurance is mandatory for public safety, it should be a matter of public safety handled by the government. it should be unconcerned with profit!

and if the government had to start really shouldering those costs, i think they might just see that public transportation is much cheaper, more efficient, and all around better than the 1 Car Per USAmerican (Mandatory) system we currently have. and we could have a competent public transportation system. and i would cry tears of joy.

The most frustrating part of working in insurance is knowing why people's insurance premiums are increasing so dramatically but not being able to explain it without sounding like you're defending a bunch of giant megacorporations

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter twelve

Excerpt - “I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner.  “You what?!” “Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?” Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really? Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect. Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter twelve Wednessday - A chance encounter in London 

1. See

Charlotte politely followed the HR consultant as he escorted her into the sleek elevator. He was a middle-aged man who oozed self-confidence, he knew very well what he wanted and what he was looking for. He’d been quite rigid and resolute all throughout the meeting. 

She had been a little surprised an HR manager was attending said lengthy meeting, but then again this wàs the Royal London Hospital and this might be a very strict protocol they had to live up to. Breaking it was no doubt sacrilegious in these parts of the country. 

The executive directors of the Royal London Hospital had very clearly outlined their ‘vision’ for the hospital to Charlotte, requesting her take on things and requesting a well-documented legal counsel. Truth-be-told Charlotte had expected she was called in for this kind of professional advice. However she was not expecting that her response would be met the way it was… 

As she politely but determinedly rejected some of their desiderata, some glances were exchanged on the other side of the table, a few nods and gestures went back and forth which Charlotte found utterly distracting. Where was their protocol now, she mused. 

But all became clear when the meeting somehow, very openly, turned into a job-offer towards her. A very generous offer was instantly extended to her; and a temporary assignment to work out a new policy on end-of-life decisions in the Royal London Hospital. The fucking Royal Hospital, her mind has yelled out, the state-of-the-art hospital, globally recognized as a leader in pre-hospital and trauma care. Home to London's Air Ambulance and one of the capital's leading trauma and emergency care centres and hyper-acute stroke centres. And they wanted her… 

Charlotte would be allowed to compile a multidisciplinary corps and an assistant would be appointed to her. The extent of the offer dizzied her, yet thrilled her at the same time. It was a dream come true. Well, more than that really… 

Things were moving fast for her now. At least that’s how it felt for her. She started with only a handful seminars, but was now well-booked for the rest of the summer, with the occasional interview here and there. And now there was this offer on the table she could not quite wrap her mind around yet. 

As she stepped into the elevator the HR manager kindly exchanged some more small talk with her. He seemed like an amiable man. With a smile he tapped the elevator buttons and started their descent down to the lobby. 

No, never in her wildest dreams had Charlotte expected her road to lead her where it had so far. And this at only 36 years of age. This was wild. This went beyond her imagination. And Charlotte half expected to be woken up by the shrill tone of her alarm clock. She discreetly pinched her nails into her arm - just in case - but this was no dream apparently. The shrill alarm clock didn't sound, but the elevator did chyme and a monotone female voice announced the occupants they had reached the fourth floor, then the second floor and so on. 

People trickled in and out the elevator and before she was good and well aware Charlotte had reached the ground floor. She smiled in agreement with the HR consultant as he thanked her for her time, which she countered with a thank you for having me. Ping-pong, as you go...

"And we'll be looking forward to hearing your decision," the HR consultant concluded their conversation, "and maybe I shouldn't say this, but we àre passionately hoping you'll be willing to work with us."

In her head Charlotte positively screamed fucking Royal London!, but in reality she smiled her best diplomatic smile. And while she shook his hand - firmly -, she politely answered she was absolutely honoured and would think the offer through.

Upon exiting the elevator on a pure adrenaline high, Charlotte inattentively bumped against a hurried nearby stranger who jogged out of an opposing elevator. Shaking the momentary lapse of concentration out of her head, she turned to the other party with a slightly surprised frown which swiftly morphed into a recognition, and then an awkward yet lukewarm smile. 

"Charlotte?" 

"Tom?" 

2. See closer 

3 days after Fringe. 3 nights after that night. 3 days and 3 nights without a single word. In either direction. 

Charlotte’s heart thudded loudly and nervously in her chest. She was however oblivious whether this nervous spell was a good or a bad thing. Should she crawl under a rock and make herself scarce after exchanging the necessary small talk or should she act unaffected, like he was? Or should she take a breath, straighten her shoulders and ask for an answer in the hopes it could heal that awful gnawing feeling the aftermath of Edinburgh had left her with... 

As she came round to a mute double (or was it triple?) take, she noted Tom seemed just as much out of his comfort zone as she was. And in a weird way it thrilled her. Karma. Suits him well. She could see him running his tongue over his lips before gently biting them shut. His hands fidgeted with the paperwork he held in his hand while he repeatedly re-adjusting his glasses. 

Charlotte’s heartbeat however dropped some when she detected the variety of papers Tom had now safely tucked under his arm. So much papers after a doctor’s appointment, and that did not look good. At all. He didn’t look hurt. Was he sick? He seemed nervous, sweaty. He was silent, not at all like the Tom she’d come to know….

Her gaze got caught on the documents, but this point she couldn’t care less about that. 

“Are - Are you alright?” Charlotte immediately questioned; she was worried. No point in denying this. 

Her wall of defence had slipped and Tom could hear the concern in her voice inkling through. A small little frown came across her features. Only instantly, but he noticed nonetheless. And he thankfully concluded that perhaps she wasn’t yet hating him with the fire of a thousand suns…

"Yeah, no, I erm,” he stuttered, “I just had the obligatory medical check-up for a next project. But you?"

He was astounded though, for a woman who was most definitely not an actress she slid back into her defensive pose oh-so easily. A tall blank wall arose, that gave way to nothing or nobody. He swore he had caught a glimmer of relief into her eyes before though, but all sympathy had fled from her now.  

“Good-good,” she replied with formal nod, “just - work.” 

Tom took notice of how curt she suddenly acted. How could he not. But to Charlotte it was simply her only means as she desperately did not want to feel a single thing. Not those stupid-ass fireflies, not the inexplicable angry hurt, not the stomach drop. None of it. She wanted nothing more than to be cool and step over all of this matter-of-factly. Her gut swirled with bottled up questions and insecurities, but she would have none of that. Water under the bridge. 

Get over it Daniëls. He sure has.

3. Believe 

Charlotte slid into the leather seats of his fancy car. A fresh cool bottle of water clasped in her hands. He’d paid for it despite her vehement veto. He wouldn’t listen though. And now she was here, in his car, because he offered to drive her to the St. Pancras Station. She’d refused, replying she was taking the underground so he really shouldn’t bother. It was noon. Traffic would be a mess, etc. However she ended up giving in to this request - albeit reluctantly - because he was right on one thing; they needed to talk. Privately if possible and the hospital lobby was just no place to do just that. 

But in spite of that, they did not exchange one word once inside the car. Tom pulled out of the underground parking with a silent ease. And emerging in the London streets and into the full sunlight, he reached out for his trusted sunglasses. Meanwhile the familiar scent of leather and some citrussy car perfume tempted Charlotte’s mind into a trip down memory lane, back to another night several weeks back in time. A night with equally nervous heart flutters, but for entirely different reasons. 

He queued down the main road, while desperately trying to sort his thoughts before settling on a  

“You’ve never answered me…” 

Charlotte remained at a loss for words for a couple of seconds before huffing a vexed “honestly?!” and shaking her head in disbelief. 

He could hear her as she exhaled loudly, seemingly trying to get her mind pulled back together again,

“With quite a delay I got your texts and,” a pause, “your voicemail.”

His eyes urged her on.

"You said - if memory serves me well, and it usually does - that you wished you'd said ‘goodbye’.” Charlotte paused, “forgive me but I thought that was how this worked for you."

"How what worked?"

"You didn't show up!!" She didn’t mean for her voice to go up in pitch and she furiously furrowed her brows to compensate for it, "I mean, it's all right, I was ….. naive I guess? Somewhere I knew I wouldn't see you again that night, but yet hoped for it. Against better judgement." 

"Wha, wh- why would you expect I wouldn't show up?"

Charlotte lifted her chin and rested her head against the headrest while releasing a cold and hollow laugh, which he didn’t particularly cared for, "To-om!"

But he remained silent, a bit dumbfounded and clueless for what to say next. A car behind them honked, frustrated Tom had failed to acknowledge the light turning green and was still at a halt. 

"You don't want to let anybody down, I understand," Charlotte muttered, "no need to..."

"Only I did," he interrupted, "I let you down, I let myself down. I’m just…”

“Just stop it,” Charlotte interjected as she shook her head in seeming defeat and looked at him wearily. 

“You know, I hate it how you are making all of this around you?”

“I’m sorry,” he blinked twice, “come again?”

"Like it’s all your hurt feelings in the scale here. It drives me mad….” she huffed, “You know, I think or at least I hope we've established in the past that I'm not really the type of girl that just goes crawling into bed with someone on a whim?” 

Charlotte gestured aggravatedly, “so excuse me if I'm a bit rough around the edges here, but I clearly heard you say ‘goodbye’ to me. So, what else would there be left for me to say? It didn't really feel like a message that allowed any type of answer…"

“So just,” she sighed, “let’s just call this for what this is or was. And move on?”

A pang went straight through his heart. He saw her turning away and looking through the window from the passenger seat at the building that passed her by. Good. He desperately needed a minute to himself to let her words sink in. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she would see him as this promiscuous playboy who just went sleeping around with whomever struck his fancy...  

“I demand an appeal,” he muttered as he turned a corner.  

“You what?!”

“Well, isn’t that what they do in your job?”

Charlotte snapped her head back. Oh really? 

Trapped in a car. In traffic. No way for an escape. And he wants to plead his case. Fucking perfect.

“You know,” he argued more determined now, “you keep saying, ‘let’s call it what it is’. And then you do just that. And proceed to you turn your back on me. And it’s settled?” he questioned.

“But what about me? Do I at least get the chance to call it what it was for me?” he pressed on, “I do feel like you owe it to me to let me explain..."

"Owe it to you?" she frowned with a huff, hovering clearly unsettled.  

"Yes, Charlotte,” he replied. Curt. To the point. 

“And if you truly feel the way you say you do - I promise, I will not push this matter further. However I will not let you silence me before I have spoken my part.”

"I wanted to see you that night. But the crowd, .... and then some fans walked up and then there was this critic," he sighed in utter frustration and banged the steering wheel in sheer annoyance, "I am an idiot! I know I am. And I should have been more firm. I went about it all wrong. And for that I will be forever angry with myself." 

“But,” he sighed, “I did want to see you and ... verify that the other night was not just a dream. I longed to see you. To hear you. To hold you and to kiss you goodnight. Not goodbye.” he shook his head in disbelief. 

“And if I said that wrong on your voicemail then I apologize for it. All of it. I was tired. Impatient.” 

Heartbroken 

He held her gaze, “I am not thàt type of man you seem to want to take me for, I am not the type to sleep around. You must believe me on this one. I might not have the best track-record with you so far; I admit,” he added a bitter laugh, “but this is true. I promise you that."

She kept silent. This seemed like a good sign… 

"But Charlotte, I called you and went straight to voicemail. To me, that was quite a clear message as well... No response is still a response, Charlotte,” he concluded. 

"Have you spoken your peace, Tom?"

He replied to her with a silent surprised nod. 

“Apparently,” she mumbled, “when you attach a cell-phone to a power bank it shuts off everything so it loads faster…”

“Of course,” he wrinkled his nose as he shrug his shoulders as if to convey her he did not see the point of this lesson, “that’s the way they work.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow ironically, “well congrats to you but I didn’t know that.”

“What on earth?” 

“In Edinburgh, a colleague of mine lent one to me… my battery was running low and … I didn’t want to miss any….” She furrowed her brows and looked down at the drink in between her hands. “I didn’t have a watch. My cell is … my clock, my calendar. It erm - it automatically put me in flight mode. I didn’t realize. And I’m sorry about that.”

He looked back at her with sympathy and nodded, “ok.”

She nodded with a kindhearted smile, “so, appeal granted. It’s good we talked. But, you don’t want this."

"Ouch," he chuckled and clutched his heart. "Well that stung. For a minute there I thought he came to an understanding here?"

"Don't miss my point," Charlotte slanted her head and looked at him with sympathy.

"And don't you miss mine,” he interrupted her, “because even though you believe you speak the truth, you are wrong."

"Am I?" 

"So very wrong! Because, as it turns out, I do wànt this,” he gestured between them, “or at least a fair chance at this.”

But Charlotte only rolled her eyes and turned her gaze outwards again. 

“My god! I swear there are pitbulls that are less tenacious than you!”

Charlotte grunted and looked down at the bottle in between her hands, before a stupid grin fell from her lips. 

“I swear,” he shook his head, “so help me god.” 

“And now she’s laughing… You’re putting me through hell here darling...”

“I’ve missed not talking to you,” he finally dared to confess, “And I so desperately wanted to reach out to you, only I … don’t know where you live, I didn’t know where you’d be? So,” he lingered, “I sent flowers to your firm.” 

“Well congratulations to Luke,” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I tend to pick and send my own flowers, darling. I’m very precise about those things.”

She kept silent. Good. 

Tom stared at the steering wheel before him,“Gladiolus, for strength of character, honor and conviction. And they needed to be white; the color of perfection, safety, purity and faith. Writing the accompanying card was an outright hell though because the odds were your colleagues might get it before you did.”

“That was you?” Charlotte reminisced a WhatsApp from her office depicting a gorgeous bouquet and demanding what she had said or done to deserve the honour of such a wonderful bouquet. They couldn’t make out the card though. It only mentioned one word, but the meaning of it was lost on everyone.

Until now.

“Maktub,” Charlotte whispered, to which he nodded. 

‘Maktub.’ ‘It is written’. 

A deep belief about destiny Paulo Coelho writes about in ‘the Alchemist’ where he captured it in just one word. Maktub. Everything is destined and written. How when and where has already been planned and we shall not get anxious about it. Just little patience and it will just come with time provided and the efforts needed.

She glanced up in his eyes that convey nothing but a clear bluegreen sincerity. She wanted to ask him to say that again, for good understanding. But he gladly repeated it on his own accord. 

And there went her heart. In one thousand pieces, scattered all over the ground.

4. Achieve 

He officially declared traffic was an absolute mess. It was barely noon and within 20 minutes he had barely made any significant progress towards Saint Pancras Station. Worriedly he inquired with Charlotte when her train was departing and when she quietly confessed “16:03” he dropped his chin to his chest and bit his lip trying to suppress a laugh. 

“Can I propose lunch now?” he chuckled, to which she pleasantly nodded. That would be alright.

They agreed they would start over at lunch, wipe the slate clean. Talk. And reset.

Tom made a swift U-turn, sneaking into smaller streets. Homeward. He wanted to let out Bobby first, drop of his paperwork, leave his car. Charlotte wordlessly followed his path. 

The chocolate brown Cocker Spaniël happily greeted his master as Tom set foot into his house. Charlotte followed quietly, awkwardly. Bobby sniffed her legs both suspiciously and curiously. When she crouched down and offered him the palms of her hands, he studied and snuffed them gratefully, ultimately giving them a little lick before ignoring her completely and favouring Tom over her. 

Tom chuckled, “well, you’re accepted it seems.”

He clicked his tongue, guiding Bobby out into his backyard while Charlotte nervously waited around the living room. She wanted to go explore his bookshelf across the room. As she progressed down the room she admired the stupendously comfy-looking lounge chair and fought the urge to try it out herself. As she ran her fingertips over the fragments of paper that lay scattered around a reading table, her eyes fell upon an article with her name on it, post-its with scribblings on it. An email address, a phone number, some doodling, scratched out words. City names. As she picked up the interview curiously, a second one featuring her appeared underneath. Charlotte chuckled, had he really been trying to track her down?

A soft chuckle brought her back to reality. Tom stood against the door frame, smiling bashfully.

“Caught me red handed.”

But Charlotte could only look at him, rendered speechless. 

“Wasn’t lying,” he reminded her, “wanted you. Want you. If you’ll have me.”

It turned out to be the most difficult question anybody had ever asked her.

Do I want this - Do I want to invest in this, whatever it is, potentially discovering it would be only a waste of her time. 

Charlotte stood by her belief that notwithstanding their shared morals or values, their common interest or visions, they did remain so different on countless other things. Things that mattered just as much. And you did need some common ground to form a solid basis on which you can build your relationship. Without a solid base everything goes to waste. Hell, even with a solid base things could very well still go to waste. Her marriage was a perfect example of the latter.

On the other hand though... this was him. The man that slowly but surely had crawled under her skin. Attentive, interested, good hearted. And when she’d crumbled down in Germany he was there, while he didn’t really need to be there. Yet there he was, offering support when she had needed it most. He unknowingly found the smallest of cracks in the seemingly airtight seal around her heart and nestled himself inside. Gentleman-like, well dressed and with a good book. Ever patient. Trustworthy. Present. Shit.

Her stomach was in knots when she came to realise, that day, what her heart had known deep down a few days earlier; she could not walk away. Not from this man. But the future scared her nonetheless.

"But - we're as different as chalk and cheese,"

"Are we?"

She smiled, "we live out of our respective suitcases."

"For now," he corrected her.

"Yes, for now. But when I touch down after all this...."

"You'll still only be 2 hours away,"

"But..."

"I dare you," he grinned, feeling he was winning this battle.

"Brexit," Charlotte tried.

"Honestly, Brexit? Of all excuses you come up with, Brexit?"

"Well,..." 

"I will gladly add some more pages to my passport. For you," he paused. “Come on darling, don’t hold back now,” he teased, “any objection you have, give it to me. I will gladly deny or overcome every single one.”

“To-om,” she slanted her head. He liked this ‘To-om’ better, when her voice was full of loving emotion again. 

“Either you go at it with passion, or not at all,” he added.

“Permission to engage the enemy sir?” he chuckled. 

Charlotte rewarded him with a lopsided smile. Momentarily banning all scary thoughts out of her head she gladly but carefully opted to open her heart and take the leap of faith. As petrifying as it felt. Her smile was all the persuasion Tom needed to walk the short distance between them. He stroked her dark brown tresses, admiring her soft feminine features and seeing if he’d remembered them correctly. 

She closed her eyes when he slid his hand into her hair and slowly he leant in for a soft kiss. And another one. And another. Sweet and innocent, little testaments of adoration and longing. She ran a hand up from the nape of his neck and through his curls. She’d missed this, that much was true already. And she allowed herself to revell in this sudden rush of enamourment. 

She felt his lips curve into a smile in between pecks. 

“‘m getting better at this,” he whispered

“Hmm?”

“Third time's a charm. No interruptions here, only Bobby.”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte breathed, “you’re still buying me lunch Hiddleston.”

Later that afternoon Charlotte lovingly petted Bobby's head before making her leave. Tom had signed up for ComiCon in Vienna, which coincided with her seminar. Only two more days and they would be together again. After sharing a loving last kiss, Charlotte stepped outside into an unsure yet thrilling future.

Tom had asked her to call him when she'd arrived home, claiming he'd only worry until he'd heard from her. He was so easy to love. 

Two more days…. 

[tellywoodtrash]

bepannaah 19.03.18 lb

right. let’s do this. entertain me, ridiculously good looking ppl.

oh fuck what, is this a one hour show? please tell me it’s just for the first ep, coz i’ve already lost interest if this is a one hour daily. i don’t have the strength to keep up with this kinda bs.

god, it’s unfair how pretty this girl is. honestly.

seems like has god has compensated by giving her a real besuraaa voice tho. bb girl, pls stop.

oh god she’s one of those ‘aaaap’ and ‘hum’ ppl.

also weirdly codependent on her husband for weird shit like remembering song lyrics? ok???????

what exactly is this hot mess that she’s making???? somewhere in an alt universe, omkara singh oberoi’s chest hurts from the violation of “art” that’s happening here.

lel “hum aapka jhoot hamesha pakad lete hai” foreshadowingggggggg

hubba hubba who this mancakeeeee. chehra dikhaa jaanemann!

haaaaaaaaaaye his puppy eyes. such cyooot.

hmmmmmm this one’s wife is sick of playing mom to him within 3 minutes of show starting.

… is she not wearing a blouse????

ok no i see flashes of it.

lmao this pettyass child, threatening to go to a different continent, just so he can get chain ki neend.

why is she in such a panicccccc coz she can’t find yash??? aadmi hai, billi toh nahi, jo darwaaza khula chod diya toh kho jaayega.

god what a motley crew of nonsense naukar??

ok fwding this stupid comedy bit about her “art”

lo aa gaaya gareebon ka varun dhawan.

actually he looks like lovechild of varun dhawan and vatsal sheth. and naman shaw. (remember him???) or something.

here this actual man child is still sulking. now over toothpaste or some shit.

wow his mom just sauntered right into the loo. like, do ppl in tellywood just not have any issues with walking into the loo when someone else is there or what? i’d scream the fucking house down.

great he forgot her bday. idiot.

oh he’s arnav singh raizada type - making a habit of forgetting every year. baaad husband! bad!

the dubbing of this ep is realllly off and it’s bothering me.

he filmyyyy. lol. i like.

ooooooh. diaryyyyyyyyy. this is gonna come in play laterrrrrrr.

“bachpan se teri diary dekhta aa raha hoon”

oh ho, they’re bachpan ke saathi and all that. interesting.

damn girl, loook guiltierrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

also, writing your secrets in a diary is the dumbest shit ever? like, why would you leave a paper trail, so easy to access? its 2018, put it on a private blog or some shit.

ok he didn’t read it. but he’s gonna. you just wait, he gonna read that thing before her body goes cold.

pooja is a scorpio forsho. hella relate to her secretive, none-of-your-damn-business ways.

oh greatttttttttt, he’s another omkara singh oberoi with the whole I HATE LIES bs

god, this woman is still hung up on her bhaddaaaa sa sculpture thing.

lol her hubs is like plz, no more. lord give the spouses of “artists” patience, coz honestly, they’re tiresome af.

he’s also an aap hum dude. i think i like aditya’s way of talking better.

yeah that i love you of his rang realllllllllllll hollow.

oh ho ho. zoya here is stealing tricks from the shivaay singh oberoi book of romance, holi chapter.

“zoya mere kapde gande ho jayenge.” “toh phir utaar dijiyega.”

OH SNAAAAAAAAAAAAP I LIKEEEEEEEEEE.

damn, she just insinuated getting dirrrrrty and then cleaning up together later.

YEAH GIRL. BE SEX POSITIVE AND TAP THAT BOOTY.

i mean, i’d rather you tap that other one’s fine booty, but abhi ke liye yeh bhi chalega.

smartphones are a curse upon modern day relationships.

… bro you’re indian. you don’t get dubai visa that easily in spur of moment. you gotta apply for that shit in advance. go to qatar. visa on arrival for indians these days.

oh that was HER mom, not his???? that makes the bathroom intrusion even weirder and creepier. like damn saasumaa, boundaries.

LMAO HE CUTE AF

oh ho, hint of financial issues. he borrows money from her? she’s the richer one? interestinggggg.

she’s an artist too? what exhibition???

god he’s sooooooooo cute. also their little head tilt thing was adorbs. i def like these two as a couple better.

why is she so uncomfortableeeee with him? this is not the face you make when a husband this hot is attempting to feel ya up. girl you shady affff.

yuppppppp she def has some resentment at him not growing tf up.

ooooooooh "mujhse zyaada tumhe koi pyaar nahi karega!!!!" and all. and pooja seems hella uncomfy. which is fair. these kinda statements are really not as romantic as they’re supposed to seem. they’re more a statement of ownership than love.

at this point i gotta say, i relate with pooja the most in this show so far, and i’m hella sad she gonna be dead soon.

zoya, i get your disappointment and all, but you clingy and whinyyyy af girl.

why is he shaving out in the open? do you ppl not have a bathroom?

gareebon ka varun dhawan thinks being a good husband is listening to wife complain about the naukar. cool. cool cool cool. i hate brown dudes.

gift!

damn girl, calm down. it’s a ring. not cash. i always prefer cash.

oh ho wrong size. pooja size? huhuhuhuhu.

LMAO HE’S SO UNCOMFORTABLE. YOU SHADY FUCK.

damn adi-pooja’s house is huuuuge af. like, they’re not oberoi rich, but definitely hellla fucking rich.

omnious kadamon ka sound. tension-inducing elderly male figure is making entry. is he dad or sasur????

oh this guy. shahid kapoor ka ex step-dad.

dad has Opinions™ on the commute issues of younger couple.

ok mr. hooda. HIS dad.

also, wow. another omkara callback. daddy issues and calling father mr. [surname]

wow, i clearly have “a type” when it comes to tellywood dudes, don’t i????

his mom looks just about as young as his wife, the fuck. like, at most she looks 5 years older than him.

aaaand gareebon ka varun dhawan is offffffff. never to be seen alive again, i presume.

god she clingyyyyyyy af. i don’t really like her character so far.

mmmmm hmmmmmm. love me a man in uniform.

ok he seems to be treating the plane’s PA system like some kinda radio station for himself. nope.

yeah, these fake flying scenes are weird and corny af. fwding.

ok he’s gonna go to mussoorie. because Reasons.

love zoya’s mom for promoting healthy body image. you go mom. i like you.

dad has judgy face af.

lol dadddddd hates yash and thinks he stoopid.

“aapki subhaanAllah pottery.” snort.

lol, i like the sister. she’s so fucking done with her dad’s 5 saal puraana dukhda. get over it already, dad.

dad says issue is not communal. meaning he really knows that yash is shadyyyyyyyy af.

LMAO MAN WHY AND HOW ARE DESI DADS SUCH FUCKING EXPERTS AT DESTROYING YOU WITH THE FEWEST WORDS POSSIBLE

hmmmm hint of some financial issues here also.

damn, the dad really hates yash. what does he know about him that we don’t!?!?!?! SPILL ABBU! SPILL!

ok yup the siddiquis are rich af. driver badi gaadi and all.

oooooh serendipitous meeting time.

the push up level on her bra is kinda ridic. her boobs are practically up in her nostrils.

does every art shop in the world have this obligatory 3D buddha thingy or what????

ok what is this 5 minute waste on them wandering this fucking shop fwd fwd fwd 

oh it’s pooja’s favt song too?

aaaaaaand they both picked it up.

damn boy. you married. stop giving random hottie in the local archies’ heart eyes.

lmaoooooo pack kar dijiye plz and resulting apology.

snort us par in janaaab ka bhi moohtod jawab.

lel. beautiful idiots.

lmao i appreciate his efforts.

“yeh bus ki seat hai kya jispe rumaal phenk di toh seat aapki?” “dekhiye, hum bus mein travel hi nahi karte, toh humein kaise pata hoga???”

lolololol. what logic.

arre waaaaaah. valiant effort by aditya, but zoya knows charlie uncle (and whoever jenny is) and has capitalized on that.

LMAO I LOVE HE’S SPEAKING TO CHARLIE UNCLE AS IF HE KNOWS HIM SINCE FOREVER.

damnnnnnnnn the sexual tension.

LOLOLOL WHICH IS NOW JUST REGULAR TENSION COZ HE THREW MONEY AT HER AND TOOK OFF WITH THE THING. CHOR KAHINKA.

they’re legit running all over the damn city. lord above.

what stamina these two have. jfc.

lol urdu lesson in the middle of conflict.

what’s with gulaal phenking?

oh, just distraction technique.

oh no. phone call time. oh no oh no oh no. didn’t think it would come within this ep itself.

oh yikes car ki kaaafi buriiiiiiii haaalat.

ok fuck anything else, look at this man’s cheekbones. they can cut glass. how unfair. i want. both the man and his cheekbones.

also, this guy has zero questions on why she’s being found dead in mussoorie when she said she was going to chennai? two completely different directions my man. thought you were a pilot and supposed to know where the cities are????

oh shit, gareebon ka varun dhawan DEDDDDDDDDDD.

i mean, i knew it was coming, idk why i’m so shocked.

WHY LORD WHY IS POOJA DEAD TOO? I LIKED HER THE BEST SO FARRRRRRRRR.

aaah man, their grief is hard to watch.

aaaaaaaand

lel his instant face change like BITCH WHAT WERE YOU UP TOOOOOOOO

damn aditya, you reaaaaaaaaallll quick. you just went from shock to anger stage of grief in like under 10 seconds.

even zoya be like what this dude’s deal????? at first, and then she noticed the handssssssss.

ah man my heart is breaking for her. she seems so shockeddddd and brokennnn.

notice contrast in emotions and expressions:

ok BIGGEST QUESTION: how are yash/pooja are still holding hands? like, the car fell into the khaaai, and they most probably died on impact. how the fuck did you extract bodies out of the car like THAT? (or were they pulled out alive and then held hands and proceeded to die?) EXPLAIN TO ME, SHOW. 10 points, show your work. 

oh fuck lots happening in the next ep too, from slapping to angsty grabbing to almost killing to life saving. damn. is this really a one hour show daily????? dude imma be fucking exhausted.

[sparrow-in-boots]

youre proud the portuguese used to be major colonizers?? what do the british have to do with south america??? im. a little lost

Okay so, I’m going to assume you’re a gringo to be asking that question, and I’m also going to take this in good faith for yours and other people’s benefit because South American history is not really a subject in other countries’ educational system to put it very charitably.

First of all, I’m absolutely not proud of the Portuguese empire’s colonial legacy. On the contrary, I’m highly critical of it and its lasting consequences in all of its past colonies, and the atrocities that they perpetuated. What I meant was that to erase the Portuguese empire’s part in the colonization of South America, the differences between the past Portuguese and Spanish colonies in Central and South America, and how those differences shaped our current geopolitical situation is to erase half of the history of the continent. When I brought them up, it was to remind that they were in fact a major power in the world before the British Empire took that role, something that is quite often overlooked or downplayed like it was in that post I reblogged. I don’t say it as a point of pride, I say it as a reminder of a historical fact, awful as it is.

And, you ask what do the British have to do with South America, and I tell you, more than you might think. 

The British had been trading with Portugal in their colonies since the 16th century when they first started to dip their toes in the transatlantic trade. They first started sailing from West Africa and then started to make stops in the northeast of Brazil, before returning to England. At first, they came for pau-brazil, a type of wood native of South America that gives a very deep and rich red dye and it was all the rage before sugar came along and became the Portuguese colony’s main export as well as other raw materials like cotton and tobacco. Of course the Portuguese cracked down on those trades eventually, and also Britain had the Sieges of Boulougne going on, so they had to give it a break for a bit. 

So guess what? Around the late 16th century, the British empire sent down fucking pirates to press on the Spanish and Portuguese fleets. Privateers but, you get the picture. You’ve heard of Francis Drake, right? 

Yeah, that guy. He and some other notable names like Edward Fenton and Thomas Cavendish were sent to explore the waters between the Atlantic and the Pacific and find ways to circumvent the fleets to make the way around the globe, going through the Strait of Magellan. You know, the southern tip of South America. Also, to steal stuff from the Spanish and Portuguese colonies. Just to prove that they can and to clap back at the Spanish. And the ports of São Vicente and Santos in the southeast of current Brazil became an almost obligatory stop for English ships sailing in the south Atlantic to restock their ships for the rest of the journey. 

So the Portuguese started to get fed up with the English stopping by their colony and started to fend off the ships and arrest the sailors if they made port. So because they were pirates, they attacked the Portuguese colony. They assailed the Bay-of-All-Saints (current Bahia, Brazil) for two months, they raided and pillaged engenhos and towns on the southeast coast, and when they attacked Recife, they got so much loot from the city that they needed the help of Dutch and French ships to take it all with them. (an interesting source to dig through)

Also, where do you think our sugar went to? The engenhos (our version of plantations) sent the raw sugar to the Dutch who refined it and sold it across Europe, especially the British. Until the Dutch and the Spanish started to plant sugar cane in the Caribbean, Portugal had the sugar market pretty much cornered. That’s why the Guyanas exist and one of them have English as their main language, it was a Dutch colony and the British took control of parts of it from them, so they could trade with the native communities for prime resources, like wood, pau-brasil, native animals, cotton, tobacco, urucum (it’s another source fo red dye, google it), and so on. Guyana’s capital is called Georgetown??

Oh, shall I get to the fact that the majority of the gold you see in the interior of Buckingham Palace is from Brazil? I think I shall because, during the gold rush in Minas Gerais, Portugal was severely in debt from their wars with the Spanish and the Dutch. So much debt that what they got from exploiting their colonies, they spent it right away with industrialized goods. Goods from England. We in Brazil have an expression, “quinto dos infernos”. Literally “the Devil’s fifth”. It comes from the taxation of gold from the mines, one-fifth of what the miners extracted went to the Portuguese. To send someone to the Devil’s fifth is to tell them very emphatically to go fuck themselves. I think that explains how the people in the colonies felt about the taxes. It also caused revolts like Levante da Vila Rica and the Inconfidência Mineira, the last one being a major historical event in Brazil. So much so Minas Gerais’ state flag’s design is the same as was suggested by the rebels.

Libertas quae sera tamem is latin for “freedom albeit late”.

Oh, and you think pirates and privateers got involved just those first times? Think again! The tensions between the Spanish and British fleets in the Caribbean caused some major upheaval and even a war between the two of them, one battle affecting current Colombia, with the British attempting to siege several major ports from the Spanish. The war started cus the Spanish cracked down on illegal commerce in their colony by the British.

During the Napoleonic Wars, the British invaded the Vicoroyalty of Río de la Plata, (currently Argentina and Uruguay). The war was a good cover to attack one of France’s allies, but it wasn’t the first time the British had their eyes on the region, they’ve had previous attempts at trying to take control previously. The defeat of the British by the local populace with little to no help from the Spanish colonizers was also the last straw they needed to push for their independence.

Speaking of dwindling colonial powers, when Spanish and Portuguese ships kept failing to supply ships to meet the colony demands, it was the British who stepped in and filled the gap. After the Napoleonic Wars, the transatlantic trade basically belonged to the British, and if you’re paying attention, that greatly affected colonial and independence era South America. After Brazil’s independence from Portugal, the British were one of the new country’s main economic partner, mostly because it was their support when the royal family came to Brazil that pushed for independence. They even opened a mining company in Minas Gerais that ran for 125 years.

And these are just the things off the top of my head. The British Empire, like all the other European empires, had their fingers on many major events in Latin America as a whole as well as all over the world, but I tried to stay focused on South America. 

Colonizing powers in Europe of past and present have always had their fingers here because that’s what having colonies is. It’s exploitation and intimidation and always trying to get more and more, no matter who gets hurt or killed in the process. The plantations and engenhos were brutal, the mines were brutal, the entire system of colonization is brutal and revolting. Countless enslaved people, mostly black people, died in those places, so many even the slave trade couldn’t keep up with the demand for slave labor. It’s absolutely horrifying. And our countries have suffered and still suffer from external influences in our politics, especially by the US in more recent history, even if we keep fighting against thinly-veiled military intervention constantly. It really fucking sucks.

And you could have learned all this - and more! - if you just bothered to open a single Wikipedia article. Like, literally google “history of South America” or “Latin America-United Kingdom relations” and read. Bonus credits if you dig into the article sources and read them if available to you in English. But if reading is not your thing, there are several youtube channels out there who want to teach you stuff you don’t know and are a decent enough jumping point. Literally all I can say after all this is, educate yourself.

(I’ve leaned more on Brazillian history which is what I’m more familiar with, but if there are any fellow latines who want to correct me on something or add on to this, pls do so!)

[viralhottopics]

How Potentially Great Movies Got Derailed By Offscreen BS

Hollywood has proved that it’s willing to turn literally anything into a movie, from children’s toys, to Reddit posts, to E.L. James novels. So, if you ever notice a film-worthy property that has remained conspicuously un-adapted, you can bet your ass that it’s not for lack of trying. In fact, some of the stories behind these non-adaptations would make pretty good movies of their own (mostly comedies, with some hints of psychological horror).

5

Gore Verbinski’s R-Rated BioShock Movie Is Dead Due To Watchmen

Video game adaptations tend to be utter garbage for one simple reason: It’s hard to turn a plot like “portly Italian steps on hundreds of turtles” into a coherent screenplay. If there’s one game that could break the curse, though, it’s BioShock. Why? Because it already has a more cogent story than most movies.

2K Games Not to mention, way more diving suit-wearing mutants with giant drills on one hand.

The game’s critically acclaimed storyline (centered on a utopic underwater city created by a combination of Walt Disney and Ayn Rand) is ripe for the taking — and there’s one director willing to do it. Gore Verbinski of Pirates Of The Caribbean fame is a big fan of BioShock‘s “cinematic potential” and “strong narrative,” and we’ve already talked about why he would actually be perfect for this adaptation (assuming he doesn’t succumb to the Burton Syndrome and casts Johnny Depp for every part).

Verbinski was all set to shoot a BioShock movie in 2009, and fittingly for someone named “Gore,” he wasn’t planning to shy away from the game’s violence and general fucked-up-ness. In his own words, he “just really, really wanted to make it a movie where, four days later, you’re still shivering and going, ‘Jesus Christ!'” The movie’s concept art confirms that, at the very least, this thing would have been visually amazing:

2K Games

2K Games

But then, only eight weeks before shooting started, Universal Studios pulled the plug. What happened? Apparently, Watchmen did.

Verbinski wanted between $160 and $200 million to properly recreate the underwater city of Rapture, but after Zack Snyder’s dour superhero slo-mo-fest underperformed, Universal got nervous about financing such an expensive R-rated film. Verbinski wouldn’t budge on the rating or the budget, so that was it. The studio tried to keep going with another director, but the same problems came up again. Eventually, BioShock‘s creators decided they didn’t need a stinking movie anyways.

We’d love to end this entry telling you that the recent string of R-rated genre hits proved those cowardly producers wrong, but it’s not that simple: Deadpool cost only $58 million, Logan reportedly $97 million, and Mad Max: Fury Road didn’t exactly make it rain (by Hollywood standards). Shooting an underwater city probably won’t be affordable until we’re actually living in one, so cross your fingers for more climate change, gaming fans!

4

We’ll Never See Guillermo Del Toro’s At The Mountains Of Madness Because Of Freaking Prometheus

Like his creation Cthulhu, horror author H.P. Lovecraft has managed to indirectly wedge his face-tentacles into everything you love. He’s inspired such disparate works as Dungeons And Dragons, Evil Dead, and even Conan The Barbarian — and yet, very few of his works have been directly adapted into movies. For instance, there’s never been a film adaptation of his classic novella At The Mountains Of Madness, the lovely story of a bunch of scientists who stumble upon forgotten horrors during an Antarctic expedition, and end up getting slaughtered or losing their minds.

Guillermo Del Toro, no stranger to giant monsters from other dimensions, has been trying to adapt Mountains for decades, but the project has been cursed by the unthinkable evils that rule the universe: Hollywood executives. Del Toro had a script ready as early as 1998, and at various points the project managed to attract serious interest from Warner Bros., Universal, and Steven Spielberg’s DreamWorks Pictures. In 2010, Del Toro even convinced James Cameron to join as producer and had Tom Cruise in advanced talks to star (yes, we might have finally found out what Cruise looks like as an insane person).

The studios always ended up wussing out over the budget and dark tone, but Del Toro kept plugging away, convinced that this was something audiences had never seen before. That is, until he heard about a little movie called Prometheus. You know, the one about a bunch of scientists who stumble upon forgotten horrors during a galactic expedition, and end up getting slaughtered or crushed by slow-moving space donuts.

The similarities don’t end there: Both Prometheus and Mountains involve the scientists discovering an ancient alien race responsible for creating humanity, as well some ugly-ass monsters hell-bent on destroying said humanity. Del Toro didn’t want to cover the same ground as that film, so he announced that his project was on hold or dead. In 2013, he said he would give it one more try … and that’s the last anyone’s heard of it. Oh, well, at least there’s always the new Hellbo– Whoops.

3

Hamilton Won’t Be A Movie For Decades Because The Creator Just Said So

Chances are that you’ve never seen Hamilton yourself (tickets go from $175 to $2000 and are still constantly sold out), but you sure as hell have heard about it. It’s a freaking cultural phenomenon. The Founding Father-themed hip-hop musical won 11 of its record-breaking 16 Tony Awards nominations, largely for its ability to achieve the impossible: making people pay “could have bought fairly high-quality cocaine” money to see something pertaining to Alexander “National Debt Ain’t Nothing But A Thing” Hamilton.

Since Hamilton creator Lin-Manuel Miranda is all about making American history more accessible to the masses, a movie adaptation would make perfect sense, right? So thinks everyone, except Lin-Manuel Miranda. In a recent Rolling Stone interview, Miranda stated that if a film adaptation happens, it probably wouldn’t be for at least 20 years. Partially, he wants to make sure people come see it in theaters now (even though 99 percent of us will never have the chance) … but he also claims that the only good play-to-film adaptations are “all 20 years after the fact,” giving examples like Cabaret or Chicago.

The thing is, Cabaret was only made eight years after the play. West Side Story, The Sound Of Music, Oliver!, The Music Man, My Fair Lady, Guys And Dolls, Hairspray — all had acclaimed movies within five to eight years of the musical. The Grease movie was released only seven years later, and people love that retroactively creepy crap. Does Miranda think it was actually made in the ’50s because of the wardrobes?

At most, those suffering from Hamilust will have to settle for watching a filmed performance of the play, but there are two problems with that: 1) Miranda says he hasn’t decided what to do with the only recording of the original cast, joking (we think?) that he’d throw it in a vault, and 2) no one in the history of humanity has enjoyed a fixed-camera movie of a play. You might as well sneak into one of the inevitable rip-off productions that high school drama clubs will be putting on for years to come.

2

Steve Carell’s Real-Life Comedy About North Korea, Pyongyang, Was Shelved Because Of The Interview

North Korea has been responsible for a lot of terrible things over the years, but there was one time when they actually tried to save us from a lurking danger we ourselves didn’t fully understand: Seth Rogen’s The Interview. In what we naively thought would be the most bonkers international incident of this decade, Kim Jong-un’s regime took offense at something in the movie (presumably the part about Rogen and James Franco assassinating him, but maybe they’re just tired of stoner jokes) and allegedly hacked Sony Pictures in retaliation.

As a result, most screenings of the movie were cancelled and the film was banished to the wasteland of home video.

However, this Chinese food-fart of a movie wasn’t the most tragic casualty of the Sony hack clusterfuck: that would be Steve Carell’s Pyongyang, which was a story that actually deserved to be told.

Based on a 2004 autobiographical comic book, Pyongyang details author Guy Delisle’s experiences in the North Korean capital, where he worked as the liaison between a French animation company and a local studio. That studio’s signature creation, by the way, is an adorable propaganda series starring a squirrel and a hedgehog, imaginatively titled Squirrel And Hedgehog.

Because of his particular role, Delisle was given unprecedented access to parts of the country usually hidden from outsiders. His book is a retelling of all the bizarre things he saw and experienced in that crazy-ass regime — a concept that apparently made Gore Verbinski’s ears perk up when he heard about it. In 2013, New Regency announced Verbinski would direct a “dark comedy” based on the Delisle’s experiences, and eventually added Steve Carell as the lead. It would have been an intriguing combination of awkward situations …

… and the obligatory “creative liberties” Hollywood would have taken to make the story more like a spy thriller. Either way, expect a lot of Carell screaming in panic.

Unfortunately, thanks to Rogen shoving his dick jokes into the nuclear hornet’s nest, the movie was dead before it could really take off. New Regency didn’t think they could risk a controversial movie of their own, while Verbinski welcomed the possibility of World War III, stating, “I find it ironic that fear is eliminating the possibility to tell stories that depict our ability to overcome fear.” To which the studio probably responded: “Yeah, but nukes and shit. Right?”

1

The Catcher In The Rye Will Never Get A Movie Because Of A Terrible Version Of Another J.D. Salinger Story

J.D. Salinger’s Catcher In The Rye has long been considered by hipsters (and assassins) to be the greatest book against phonies ever written. Holden Caulfield’s story of self-discovery mirrors that of many a pissed-off, surly, uniquely rebellious teenager — so, all of them, basically. That probably explains why entire generations of actors, from Marlon Brando to Leonardo DiCaprio, have tried to get the movie done with themselves in the lead.

The problem is that, like his boy Caulfield, Salinger was on a bit of a crusade against the phonies of the world — and to him, no one was phonier than Hollywood (not sure how he got that impression).

Salinger didn’t always feel that way. Early in his career, he sold the rights to his short story Uncle Wiggily In Connecticut, a commentary on materialism in the post-WWII era. According to his assistant, Salinger “thought they would make a good movie,” which wasn’t an unreasonable assumption considering that the script would be written by the screenwriters of Casablanca, Julius and Philip Epstein.

So what did the Epsteins do? They changed the name to My Foolish Heart, ditched all the social commentary, and turned the story into a sappy romantic tale.

Even though the film was a commercial hit, Salinger hated it so much that he refused to allow any more adaptations of his work. Including Catcher In The Rye. Of course, there might be another reason why he turned down all those offers from famous actors: According to his one-time girlfriend, Salinger thought only he himself could play Caulfield. It’s probably a little bit of column A, a little bit of column B.

Anyway, if you excitedly thought that Salinger’s death might finally bring about a Catcher adaptation, then you’re 1) a shitty person, and 2) wrong. The people who manage his trust were fully aware of his aversion to licensing out any of his works, and will continue his crusade for generations to come. On the upside, think of all the murders from illiterate would-be killers we’re avoiding this way.

Jordan Breeding is a part-time writer, a full-time lover, and an all the time guitarist. Check out his band at Skywardband.com or on Spotify here.

Behind every awful movie is the idea for a good one. Old man Indiana Jones discovers aliens: Good in theory, bad in practice. Batman fights Superman: So simple, but so bad. Are there good versions of these movies hidden within the stinking turds that saw the light of day? Jack O’Brien hosts Soren Bowie, Daniel O’Brien, and Katie Willert of After Hours on our next live podcast to find an answer, as they discuss their ideal versions of flops, reboots, and remakes. Tickets are $7 and can be purchased here!

Also check out The 36 Greatest Shows and Movies Ever to Almost Happen and 5 Incredible Real Video Games (You’ll Never Get to Play).

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out 5 Movie Epilogues That Should Have Been Sequels, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

Follow us on Facebook, and let’s best friends forever.

Read more: http://bit.ly/2ojuS1J

from How Potentially Great Movies Got Derailed By Offscreen BS