WELCOME TO ISSUE 12 of Capital of Nasty. My apologies for this long delay, unfortunately life has taken its toll, and time has become a precious rarity.
Your eyes focus inward
to a point in front of your nose
as if to see it source there.
Your body recognizes it instinctually,
knows the face before the idea is brushed aside by logic.
Yeah, I've been there. And back. In time I'll probably, no, certainly, be back there. No matter what I do to try and thwart the future I'll be back there.
Archaeology? Why is there archaeology? I mean really what's the point? I read in the paper the other day that some guy in Mexico or something may have discovered some remains that may prove that some sort of dinosaurs hunted in packs.
Rated: 4 bombs
Director Roland Emmerich and producer Dean Devlin were obviously raised by birds. As I imagine the hordes and hordes of stupid people going to see this film I can only visualize one thing: As the movie starts, the hordes tilt back their empty heads, open their mouths wide, and wait for Emmerich and Devlin to come round and regurgitate popcorn and jujubees into their mouths, because they're little more than helpless, brainless, baby birds.
*.5 out of ***** stars WARNING: If you've never seen "Godzilla" and intend to shell out your hard earned (or your parents') money to view it, don't read this.