I self-medicate. The goblins prefer it that way. And I don’t want yet another goblin war in my kitchen. Not after the last one. I’m not made of kettles.

“Tonight I received a call from an unknown number saying, ‘If you enjoy breathing, shut your fuckin’ mouth,’ and then they hung up.”

“Later, they rang back and apologised, and asked if I wanted to save money when calling long-distance. Turns out it was their first day on the job, and they had mistakenly read from the wrong script.”

I knew that 5 minute shot of the Dunkirk evacuation was a bad move for Joe Wright. He should have had a pretty girl walking through the exhausted soldiers, while drinking Sunny Delight to hipster tunes – that’s how you get nommed, kiddo.

Spielberg did the same for Saving Private Ryan – did no-one else notice Dakota Fanning skipping and playing with a yo-yo while they took Omaha beach?

“these bloggers were getting text messages about how the movie was playing, while it was still playing.”

At least they weren’t actually talking on their phones during the movie, so I’m guessing progress isn’t all bad?

I bet DeNiro loved it when the head of Sony Pictures Classics got up and left before the movie finished – and you know that all around him people were texting “dude, Tom Bernard from Sony Pictures Classic JUST GOT UP AND LEFT!!?11!!! This movie SUX!!!1!”

Ah, The Circle-Jerk of Life.

Never trust a man who fucks a sofa.