expounds on the cruel and unusual appeal of Billy Boyd:
Do you see a problem here? Mmm? Anyone find one? Bueler? Bueler? No one sees ONE GODDAMNED THING WRONG WITH THIS SCENARIO?! Does anyone have any idea what I’m talking about? Let’s go back a bit, shall we? So we’ve covered the “Sniper 470” territory, all right, we been there, okay, we taken care of bidniss, ya heard... and yes, I’ve seen the movie, and it ain’t that bad and considering we FINALLY get at least a half hour of solid Billy, I’m cool with that, that’s all chili with me, it’s gravy, knaamean? And even though some of you may have gotten past it, and might, after listening to the diatribe that is sure to follow, ask, “Why you bringin’ up old stuff?”, I must submit the following question: WHY DOES BILLY BOYD HATE US SO MUCH
FAH CHRISSAKE, BOY! I mean, I know you’re an artist and all that, and I know you’ve got a sense of humor and that it’s probably really damn amusing to see the girls dropping like corybantic soldiers in the army of the Lord on a hot Sunday in Reverend Jesse’s “Church of th’ Amen” or whatnot but you’ve got to STOP YO’SELF! YOU MUST SLOW DOWN ON US! GIVE US TIME! You’re too fine as it is, you can’t be all takin’ ya clothes off an’ rolling around on some strapped-down platform, lifting up your hands like some UNFAIR gorgeous Scottish Bougereau tease, lacking only a white sheet and some wings to make us all drop dead and twitching under your sizzling glare! You can NOT be doing this to us, man, it’s not fair, it’s not NICE, it’s... damnit, Billy, it’s just not something you DO to folks! We’re not like you, all right, player? We’re human!
The post in its entirety is here: Damn it, Bill.