Ru1977
The Irishman
So... now he gets strictly roles with hetero love scenes?

A fate worse than death for some of us in the rainbow brigadeSo... now he gets strictly roles with hetero love scenes?
I kept thinking of that 'Two to the back of the head, couldn't have happened to a nicer guy" from Long Halloween all afternoon.I love it when the left and right can come together to police other peoples' emotions and opinions. I'm glad Kirk is dead. He was a vile piece of shit and honestly probably died quicker than he deserved. I don't ADVOCATE for shooting someone that's bad, but I'm not going to just PRETEND I'm sad about it because it's socially unacceptable to think it's funny when a dickhead gets popped.
See ya' Chuck. Couldn't have happened to a better guy.
This makes me staggeringly angry, that nobody gave a shit when she and her husband and dog were brutally murdered but we're suppoed to BE NICE about a guy who said mass shootings are just something we should live with. The way these fucking people turn it into a purity test when it's one of theirs is EXHAUSTING.Never forget Melissa Hortman, and how that orange scumbag couldn't even be bothered to attend her funeral.
I always say, maybe try that first then see how you feel.The Colorado school shooter died of a self-inflicted gunshot.
Just sent this to a friend and... It always comes back to one specific day and everything since is a direct throughline.
I'm so sick to death of crocodile tears. "This isn't who America is." No, it is exactly who we are. A room full of babies were massacred and we did nothing, and we've had massacres every single day since all those babies were murdered. We are a country defined by murder. "The left is bloodthirsty," they say, but no, people are tired, and angry, and if they spit on a grave let it be the right one, those who profited from and glorified the culture that let a room full of babies die and let their deaths go unanswered. It is not bloodthirst, it is gallows humor, because we live, every day, every moment in this country, with our feet upon the gallows, wondering for whom the noose comes next.