Fincher digs himself in deep + Oliver Stone's Ass
Langdon Auger
Yesterday morning I worked at a "Meet The Nominees" event for feature film directors. This mainly consisted of me showing up an hour late because my alarm clock didn’t go off and then standing around trying to keep people from jumping the velvet ropes into the good seats.
“No, you see, you have a green ticket. This means you have to sit over there next to the crying baby and the crack addict.”
“Oh, beige ticket? Right this way sir. Here, let me push these plebeians aside for you.”
An exciting morning altogether. I got to see the nominees; Danny Boyle, Ron Howard, Gus Van Sant, Christopher Nolan, and David Fincher. In addition to them, I saw Gus Van Sant’s parents and the president of the Directors Guild Michael Apted (coming soon to a Narnia movie near you). I said “hello” to him and he said “hello” back. It was awesome.
Then they took me out of the theater and I got to eat the really nice breakfast all the nominees enjoyed. When I went back in to listen to The Dark Knight director, I had to suffer through more drivel from David Fincher about Benjamin Button. I have heard him talk about it twice and I am now convinced he doesn’t care for the movie at all. He just made it because it was next on his list.
But I was standing in the back waiting for a seat to open up when lo and behold, the man sitting directly in front of me who got up to leave was Oliver Stone himself. As he left the theater, I stole his seat and enjoyed a few minutes of his ass warmth.
Langdon Auger
Yesterday morning I worked at a "Meet The Nominees" event for feature film directors. This mainly consisted of me showing up an hour late because my alarm clock didn’t go off and then standing around trying to keep people from jumping the velvet ropes into the good seats.
“No, you see, you have a green ticket. This means you have to sit over there next to the crying baby and the crack addict.”
“Oh, beige ticket? Right this way sir. Here, let me push these plebeians aside for you.”
An exciting morning altogether. I got to see the nominees; Danny Boyle, Ron Howard, Gus Van Sant, Christopher Nolan, and David Fincher. In addition to them, I saw Gus Van Sant’s parents and the president of the Directors Guild Michael Apted (coming soon to a Narnia movie near you). I said “hello” to him and he said “hello” back. It was awesome.
Then they took me out of the theater and I got to eat the really nice breakfast all the nominees enjoyed. When I went back in to listen to The Dark Knight director, I had to suffer through more drivel from David Fincher about Benjamin Button. I have heard him talk about it twice and I am now convinced he doesn’t care for the movie at all. He just made it because it was next on his list.
But I was standing in the back waiting for a seat to open up when lo and behold, the man sitting directly in front of me who got up to leave was Oliver Stone himself. As he left the theater, I stole his seat and enjoyed a few minutes of his ass warmth.
Why didn't my alarm go off?
Why are class struggles so prominent in a celebration for a labor union?
What is David Fincher's problem?
Is it creepy that I am excited about sharing the ass warmth of a celebrity?
Does Oliver Stone count as a celebrity?
Yes, I believe he does.
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