This trailer for Ghostbusters: Afterlife is not great at best. It combines an oddly melancholic tone with an eye-rolling ninjaing of Stranger Things‘ already derivative vibe.
‘Ghostbusters 2020’ official behind-the-scenes photo reveals cast first look. Don’t let me down, Reitman, okay?
I am unabashedly excited for Ghostbusters 2020. Maybe I should be, maybe I shouldn’t. But, that’s what I am. None the less, here’s an official behind-the-scenes look at the cast.
Man, I was already stoked for the new Ghostbusters movie. And that was before it added mofuckin’ Paul Rudd.
I’m stoked for the new Ghostbusters, friends! And, I’m completely cool with the news that it has cast Mckenna Grace in a lead role. Granted, I don’t really remember her performance in Captain Marvel. But, that’s better than remembering she wasn’t up to par. I mean, right?
Well then. We’ve gone from a Ghostbusters 3 reveal to a Ghostbusters 3 teaser trailer in quite the fucking hurry, huh?
Jason Reitman is directing a new ‘Ghostbusters’ set in the original universe. Sure, why the fuck not?
I, for one, have no problem with Jason Reitman directing a new Ghostbusters movie. If it fucking owns, fantastic. If it fucking sucks, it’s just more pablum quickly disappearing from mind. Reitman is a pretty talented dude, so there’s a good chance the former will happen. And if it doesn’t? Again, who fucking cares.
Tired today, man. Currently supine. Battling fatigue and a stomach stuffed with staggering tumult. Am I a diarrhea that dreams it’s a man, or a man that dreams he’s merely a flesh-bag filled with diarrhea? I’m not sure, I’m not sure. What am I sure of? This week contains multitudes, multitudes of various arts and farts I’m looking forward to enjoying. These arts, these farts, they are an Existential Ripcord. I need merely let my excitement yank said cord, and rip me through the miasma of malaise my rolling tide of brown-churn and soul are currently sunk in.
It is my mandate as the curator of Monday Morning Commute to list these arts. To high-five these farts. It is your mandate as the consumer (be it by accident or be it by accentuated agency) to list what you are sweating this week in the comments section.
Sorry for radio silence over the weekend, comrades. Had a bit of a weekend, comrades. Early Friday morning, my Nana sloughed off the mortal coil, and transcended meat-space. At the same time, I was stricken with the most staggering stomach flu I’ve ever had. Violence, friends. Violence erupting out of both ends, friends. By the time early Saturday morning rolled around, I was down a final grandparent and a literal seven pounds of fluids.
As I told you last week, comrades. We’re all riding shotgun with Entropy. Such it is for all of us, and neither my Nana nor my quivering flesh-bag could escape it. Can escape it. But she had a good run, 95 years-old. And I merely had the runs, 24 hours-long.
No matter. No worry. All flesh decays.
The column wherein I enumerate the especially enlisted distractions designed to glaze the gears of the existential engine during a given week.
Join me in the comments, comrades. Partake in this parade of particularities with your own choice cuts.