So like, Episode VII is going to begin filming in five fucking weeks. And yet!, and yet friends. We still don’t know anything about the goddamn flick. No official casting, no subtitle, no idea whether or not Carrie Fisher is going to be hanging rack in her original Leia outfit. But I guess we can at least sate ourselves on where and when filming will begin.

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I’ll cop to it. I haven’t seen 12 Years A Slave yet. So I don’t know first-hand how good of an actress Lupita Nyong’o happens to be. However, I do know what she won a fucking Oscar, and multiple friends are enamored with her. So I’m more than happy to justify my excitement at her joining the cast of Episode VII (potentially) with those two reasons.

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This new Star Wars flick certainly ain’t the usual J.J. Abrams enterprise. Leak after leak after leak. One can only imagine the sort of sphincter-tightening anger and fear he’s feeling on a weekly basis as new details dribble out of the Episode VII anus. The latest? Oh just what Carrie Fisher will be up to for six months.

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New podcast up in your fucking gutsss. With a special fucking guest: Pepsibones Krueger! *Phazer sound, Phazer sound, Phazer sound* Back from his stint in the OMNIVERSE. With The Bones in Tow, the Gang Omega relocated to my compartment of the Space-Ship for this edition, and what occurred is truly the tale of two podcasts. Off the bat we vomit chunks of broken-brain about True Detective, artistic integrity, Her, how much Bateman loves to feel inspired, Ms. Marvel #1 and other bullshit. Then the booze kicks in, and what follows is generally just Pepsibones and me babbling drunkenly about Avengers,  Star Wars, and Jeremy Renner’s amazing vascularity. So it’s pretty fucking awesome.

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Fucking stupid Star Wars. I’m all walking out of fucking work, dong thickened with glee because the day is over, when I read this news on my iPhone. So here I am — sitting in a shitty cafe table on campus — sharing this news. But I can’t help it! It’s The Force, man.

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Let’s call it what it is – nonsense. But even speculating about nonsense gets me jacked+pumped+stoked+ready to stroke when it comes to the new Star Wars. Apparently maybe there is some Millennium Falcon concept art on a picture from the Lucasfilm site.

Hit the jump for the image in question. (It ain’t the image above.)

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Real deal Holyfield: I think I may have a crush on Zac Efron. Such hot. So tan. Double real deal Holyfield: I definitely have a crush on James Gordon. These two studs have apparently had meetings pertaining to All Your Midi-chlorians Belong to Disney: Episode 7, and I’m thinking that’s pretty rad.

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Zounds! It’s really happening. Really, really happening. And I can’t help it, I’m torqued. Carrie Fisher says Hamill, Ford, and she will be on set soon. On fucking set. Ignite lightsaber. Watch your eyes.

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The script for Episode VII is done! Thank goodness. I didn’t know how long it was going to take Abrams to shoehorn all of his fan service before finally stapling down on the final product (just kidding only slightly though ’cause of reports that he wants Ep. VII to be original character-centric). So yeah! Oh, and the Guy Who Flared also confirms something rather gnarly. You know, the rumors that Meth Damon could maybe be a Skywalker.

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The Episode VII script was junked. George Lucas caterwauled.  Now Abrams is in the hood, unfucking the script from scratch with Larry Kasdan. No problem, right? It’s just that, you know, the movie is due out in two years.

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