Harry Knowles dies after posting bad X3 review.

[3 Dev Adam]

Not really, but that´s what he wrote at MySpace. I guess Jack Kirby's ghost had something to do with it.

The last thing I remember was writing and posting to my X3 review. In fact - that night was just a funk all the way around. The movie actually got me pissed at how haphazzard they threw away the PHOENIX saga - which could have been an astonishing basis for a 3 film arc in and of it's own right. But on the way home from the theater, I discovered that Clifford Antone - founder of ANTONE's had died. Someone that I've known since I was a child and one of the founding icons of the Austin SCENE.

Then I had to write that ****ing review. I hate writing bad news. It's just no fun. I love to celebrate film, not bring it down. It takes so much work to make a movie that to be the person placing a thumbs down on all that work... it... well, it's just a terrible thing to do. Albeit necessary in this case.

I had a couple of Taco Bell burritos to eat. I wanted a comfort food, I wanted things that made me feel good. I came home, put on the French 2-dvd set of PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE (vive la france) and slowly I began to feel better.

After posting the review - I went to sleep about 3:30am. It's so nice to cuddle after a bad evening. Makes you realize that your life is on the right course.

Roughly 8am - I wake, make it to the bathroom... my tummy hurts - feels like diarrhea. I'm walking to the toilet. Sit down... whew... made it... Suddenly... I begin to feel the first needle in the Harry Knowles voo doo doll as Brett Ratner begins stabbing my head. I begin to projectile vomit into the bathtub. It is... horrible. I will never eat Taco Bell again. It's such a festive vomit. After the 7th projectile vomit - I hear the door bell ring... **** that. Patricia gets it, it's her dad. Great timing. Vomit Vomit. What a morning. Still no diarrhea.

Patricia - being the sweetheart she is - brings me a glass of ice water. She obviously loves me.

After cleaning up in the shower as best I could - I head back to bed, weak as a drugged baby kitten. Belly still hurting - I sleep - 8:45am

About 10:30am - I sit up in bed... "Patricia - bring me something, I'm gonna be sick..." she brings the big soup pot. Up comes the 3 glasses of ice water and whatever remedial food was left in my stomach... I really feel awful. Really awful. Patricia leaves to get me Pepto and Gatorade. I head to the bathroom - this time I know it is diarrhea. I hit the toilet. Yup, diarrhea. Stomach pains. ****ing Ratner and his voodoo doll.

I drink half a bottle of Pepto and a liter of Gatorade... Stumble back into bed... 9:15am

10pm - I hear and see lights... Patricia says she's going to bed.

11:45am - I wake up. Belly feels solid. A little light headed. Body is so intensely relaxed it is ridiculous.

More email than I know what to do with to go through. In the last two days I've had about 38 hours of sleep. That's insane. And yet, I feel tired. strange.

 

[xwolverine2]

I had a couple of Taco Bell burritos to eat. I wanted a comfort food, I wanted things that made me feel good.

COUGH!ACOUPLE?COUGH!!

 

[Downhere]

COUGH!ACOUPLE?COUGH!!

Be nice...

 

[xwolverine2]

Be nice...

I hate writing bad news. It's just no fun. I love to celebrate people, not bring them down. It takes so much work to make a person that to be the person placing a thumbs down on all that work... it... well, it's just a terrible thing to do. Albeit necessary in this case.

 

[Pickle-El]

Karma......

 

[livrule]

LOL ...

That is classic.

 

[Lightning Strykez!]

Who cares about Harry's bowel problems?