by C J Davies
Everyone lies sometimes.
Whether they’re harmless little fibs like “no, darling, you don’t look fat in that dress” or gigantic whoppers like “Yes, Mr Tarantino, your last few films have all been superb,” untruths form an inherent part of our daily lives.
Yet it’s best to be careful who you go telling porkie pies to. For example, you wouldn’t want to go lying to the FBI. Oh – apart from that bloke who works in the basement. You’ll probably get away with it then. What’s his name? Mulder? The dude’ll believe anything. Even that signing on for a seventh season was a good idea.
One person who didn’t get away with spreading naughty boo-boos, however, is Die Hard director John McTiernan. As such, he’s just been sentenced to four months in jail and a $100,000 fine. Which is pretty bad but could be worse – he could have been made to watch Renny Harlin’s sequel on an endless loop.
Come to think of it, anything by Renny Harlin.
Everyone lies sometimes.
Whether they're harmless little fibs like "no, darling, you don't look fat in that dress" or gigantic whoppers like "Yes, Mr Tarantino, your last few films have all been superb," untruths form an inherent part of our daily lives.
Yet it's best to be careful who you go telling porkie pies to. For example, you wouldn't want to go lying to the FBI. Oh - apart from that bloke who works in the basement. You'll probably get away with it then. What's his name? Mulder? The dude'll believe anything. Even that signing on for a seventh season was a good idea.
One person who didn't get away with spreading naughty boo-boos, however, is Die Hard director John McTiernan. As such, he's just been sentenced to four months in jail and a $100,000 fine. Which is pretty bad but could be worse - he could have been made to watch Renny Harlin's sequel on an endless loop.
Come to think of it, anything by Renny Harlin.
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by Stuart Heritage
The whole world loves internet sex tapes, as they give it the chance to say “oh, so that’s how they have sex” or, in Meg White from the White Stripes’ case, “oh, so that’s how they have sex – also, is that the smell of my retinas burning?”
Yesterday, very briefly, the internet go very excited. Not about a YouTube video of a bear on a hammock or a compulsively-forwarded email hilariously spoofing the Mastercard adverts, but by what appeared to be a Meg White tape. “Finally!” the world thought, “Now I no longer have to imagine which facial expressions the dumpy plain female drummer from The White Stripes – who I’ve never had a single sexual thought about – pulls as she’s getting done by some bloke in a grotty bedroom.” But, just as soon as the Meg White sex tape furore started, the Meg White sex tape has been dismissed as a fake. Thanks a lot, the internet – but can someone tell us who to bill for all our teeth that got partially dissolved by vomit just now?
The whole world loves internet sex tapes, as they give it the chance to say "oh, so that's how they have sex" or, in Meg White from the White Stripes' case, "oh, so that's how they have sex - also, is that the smell of my retinas burning?"
Yesterday, very briefly, the internet go very excited. Not about a YouTube video of a bear on a hammock or a compulsively-forwarded email hilariously spoofing the Mastercard adverts, but by what appeared to be a Meg White tape. "Finally!" the world thought, "Now I no longer have to imagine which facial expressions the dumpy plain female drummer from The White Stripes - who I've never had a single sexual thought about - pulls as she's getting done by some bloke in a grotty bedroom." But, just as soon as the Meg White sex tape furore started, the Meg White sex tape has been dismissed as a fake. Thanks a lot, the internet - but can someone tell us who to bill for all our teeth that got partially dissolved by vomit just now?
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