Post by Tex on Feb 18, 2005 1:25:14 GMT -8
Guess who?
So I'm trying to get some actual work done when I get this OBNOXIOUS E-mail from one Brendan Anderson, extholing the virtues of having a hot young girlfriend-soon-to-be-hot young wife (Oh WOE the Anderson, WOE! Yours is such a sad, sad story. Hail the victorious Wed!). . . and all the while I'm thinking, where's David Arnold when you need him?-- shouldn't he be here to remind Mr. Anderson about the rather lengthy debriefing in London?
But then I got to thinking (somewhere in the middle of yelling at Brendon for clogging my E-mail box with his prenuptial spam): "Damn, it's been awhile." I mean, this is one year after London -- and where are we now?
Pete loved his homeland so much that he fled to Britain. Broxton loved HIS homeland so much that he's moving to California. Arnold Schwarzenagger loved HIS homeland so much that he's become governer of said state (now pronounced Ca-LEE-FOR-nee-ya). Kuhni forced Howard Shore to sic the Ringwraiths on him. Nate barely made it out of the Turkish section of King's Cross, managed to run a successfull high school casino on the side, and (according to my MP3 player) is going to "F#&K me up." The Scoreboard's moved to here (I guess). And Jens -- for cryin' out loud -- poor Jens lost Jerry Goldsmith (an event that, to him, is more historically significant than the death of Christ -- which, incidentally, he felt should have been scored by Goldsmith in the first place).
Is there a point to all this? Not really. Except to say that London was really fun, and I miss it. You guys were a lot of fun, and I miss you. I should've been checking up on things, but I haven't. My mistake. But here I am . . . and it seems a lot of us have gone through changes . . .
. . . except for Brendan, of course. He's still some squirelly, dumb guy from Minnessota, and he STILL has women falling all over him, straight from outta the sky! And in the DESERT, mind you! My GOD, it's just like manna from heaven with that guy. Seriously, what's up with that!?
I can't let that sort of thing stand . . . not when the only propositions that guys like me get are cease and desist orders. No sir, this sort of thing has to be stamped out like a slowly festering 4-note motif. You see, first it's two notes . . . then it's three notes . . . then next thing you know it's: [glow=red,2,300]na-na-na-NAAAAAA![/glow]
Well, not today! Cause this time . . . the Tex is back.
***cue Horner 4-note motif for humorous, ironic effect***
PLJ[/i]
So I'm trying to get some actual work done when I get this OBNOXIOUS E-mail from one Brendan Anderson, extholing the virtues of having a hot young girlfriend-soon-to-be-hot young wife (Oh WOE the Anderson, WOE! Yours is such a sad, sad story. Hail the victorious Wed!). . . and all the while I'm thinking, where's David Arnold when you need him?-- shouldn't he be here to remind Mr. Anderson about the rather lengthy debriefing in London?
But then I got to thinking (somewhere in the middle of yelling at Brendon for clogging my E-mail box with his prenuptial spam): "Damn, it's been awhile." I mean, this is one year after London -- and where are we now?
Pete loved his homeland so much that he fled to Britain. Broxton loved HIS homeland so much that he's moving to California. Arnold Schwarzenagger loved HIS homeland so much that he's become governer of said state (now pronounced Ca-LEE-FOR-nee-ya). Kuhni forced Howard Shore to sic the Ringwraiths on him. Nate barely made it out of the Turkish section of King's Cross, managed to run a successfull high school casino on the side, and (according to my MP3 player) is going to "F#&K me up." The Scoreboard's moved to here (I guess). And Jens -- for cryin' out loud -- poor Jens lost Jerry Goldsmith (an event that, to him, is more historically significant than the death of Christ -- which, incidentally, he felt should have been scored by Goldsmith in the first place).
Is there a point to all this? Not really. Except to say that London was really fun, and I miss it. You guys were a lot of fun, and I miss you. I should've been checking up on things, but I haven't. My mistake. But here I am . . . and it seems a lot of us have gone through changes . . .
. . . except for Brendan, of course. He's still some squirelly, dumb guy from Minnessota, and he STILL has women falling all over him, straight from outta the sky! And in the DESERT, mind you! My GOD, it's just like manna from heaven with that guy. Seriously, what's up with that!?
I can't let that sort of thing stand . . . not when the only propositions that guys like me get are cease and desist orders. No sir, this sort of thing has to be stamped out like a slowly festering 4-note motif. You see, first it's two notes . . . then it's three notes . . . then next thing you know it's: [glow=red,2,300]na-na-na-NAAAAAA![/glow]
Well, not today! Cause this time . . . the Tex is back.
***cue Horner 4-note motif for humorous, ironic effect***
PLJ[/i]