It is no secret that I hate all things Jack Black.
He’s that fat, ugly guy that tries to overcompensate with humor, but he tries too hard and it makes you sad and uncomfortable. So he keeps trying, which becomes annoying. And then he keeps trying, until you end up resenting him and silently willing some New York mugger to stab him in the throat just to be done with it.
I patently refuse to see any movie with him in it, even if he is only doing voice work. Sorry ‘Flung Poo Panda’.
The reason I bring this up is that I wrote a post MANY years ago titled “Why Won’t Tenacious D Die Already?” In it, I basically outlined my hatred for Jack and his little “musical group”, and wished that they would die in a small, fiery plane crash in an Iowa cornfield.
And I still occasionally get people commenting on that post to this day.
Case in point, some ShoreBag left this comment on the post last night:
shut the hell up because you all must not have any funny bones in your bodies. your the ones that need to die. you guys must be all up tight and shit. its not suppose to be realistic its just suppose to make you laugh which you guys cant do apperently you mother fuck ups. LEARN TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND JUST ENJOY IT!
Obviously penned by a recent product of our American public education system, no?
Not being one to leave comments unanswered (for that would be rude), here’s what I had to say in reply:
How the FUCK are we supposed to enjoy them when they are so motherfucking bad that they cause cancer. And not even the curable kind– we’re talking Farrah or Swayze cancer!
The best thing to come from this comment yesterday is that it made me realize something. I haven’t heard anything about J.B. in quite some time.
Not since Gulliver’s Abortion, really.
Evidently Hollywood has grown weary of his schtick and he’s slithered back into his little hole for the time being. And this suits me just fine.
Now about that Will Ferrell….