From iafrica.com
‘Dirty Harry’ star Clint Eastwood told an awards ceremony in New York that he would “kill” Fahrenheit 9/11 filmmaker Michael Moore if he ever showed up at his front door with a camera, according to a report on Ananova.com.
With Moore sitting in the audience, Eastwood said, “Michael Moore and I actually have a lot in common – we both appreciate living in a country where there’s free expression.
“But, Michael, if you ever show up at my front door with a camera — I’ll kill you. I mean it.”
Eastwood, a Republican, made the comments at the National Board of Review awards held in New York where he picked up a Special Filmmaking Achievement prize for Million Dollar Baby.
A report in the New York Daily News, said Moore, who received a special “Freedom of Expression” award for his anti-Bush documentary, appeared to laugh off Eastwood’s comments.
And by “laughed,” the New York Daily News of course meant, “shit out a Wendy’s Triple and a two pound hank of thick-cut hickory-smoked bacon.”
****
(h/t Bill)
… and a large Frosty.
Well, when a fat ugly man is running around using a camera to twist the truth, my policy is to shoot the bastard.
Well I’m all broken up about that man’s rights
See. How the hell do you kill something that big? horse tranq’s won’t do shit to an animal of his size.
I’m surprised there’s no lawsuit yet. You think in this litigous (sp?) society that someone would be all pissing and moaning. I wish you could say that about everyone who annoys you though.
So my question is, how are we going to get Moore to knock on Eastwoods door with a camera?
Maybe dangle a roasted pig dripping in BBQ suace over a bucket of twinkies soaking in bacon grease in front of the door, tell him Eastwood was just kidding and say that he needs some shots for his new movie “extra super size it”?
Please, someone help me out here. How do we get this to happen?
Well, Clint did lead Sean Penn around on a dog collar between scenes during the making of Mystic River.
Easy Tman, just send him a letter like this:
Dear Michael,
You know I was kidding you the other day, right? Just to prove my sincerity, I’m throwing a BBQ in your honor here in Carmel this Sunday. A big BBQ. We’re talking about quarter pounders stuffed into pigs, stuffed into cows big. Hope you can make it!
Fourish okay?
Love,
Clint
How the hell do you kill something that big?
A brain shot usually does it—oh….
A brain shot does it? Better aim for his ample ass.
Or as we call it around here, “A Texas Heart Shot”.
Robin, where are you in Texas??
Tman and Scott, you may have solved for us years of stupid docu-movie-propaganda-crap. That would be awesome.
How about a fatal blow to the transgressive pauncho?
If he simply boiled him he could sell the fat help provide power to California.
Krispy Kreme stock would plummet though.
RWS, uh, no. I’m over here stalking Jeff.
Robin-
I got $20 for a picture of Jeff in his new white Pat Boone shoes.
Bonus if you can catch him wearing a flag, too…
Robin, Don’t take it!!!!
Attila Girl and Ana have about 4 pictures of Jeff he posted here recently. I heard they had them blown up poster sized and laminated (there was some digitizing themselves in the pictures going on there too, but we aren’t suppose to talk about that) and I bet they have negatives they would let you have for free..cuz they are really nice girls.
He can’t have my negatives.
That’s. Final.
I’m still nice, right?
Someone tried to take a photo of Jeff at the last RMBB … the penicillin finally kicked in and I hear his prothetic hands will be fitted some time next week.
RMBB–clarification, please?
Rocky Mountain Blogger Bash. An event where a multitude of nerds expose themselves to ridicule and pretend to be able to drink.
We used to have to stand at the dishwasher station in the restaurant I worked at during college with our ears against the wall adjoining the ladies room to hear gossip like this.
Uh, this wasn’t exactly what they were talking about. But the cackling’s much the same. Except not as muffled…
Let’s get the record straight on this: I AM A CITIZEN JOURNALIST AND PAT BOONE IS MY MASTER.
But a nerd? No.
That’s not what the independant panel report concludes in Appendix 8, Jeff.
Thanks so much.
Robin–That sounds like a Clint Eastwood moment. But it wasn’t MM was it? I bet the armadillo did it.
I think I pulled something, I laughed so hard. I think it was the bit about the bacon. Or the large frosty.
As you can see, Miles and I have made up and shook hands. Good thing too – I’d hate to tangle with a guy your size.
Just before Clint pounds the crap out of him.
No need to resort to violence. Last July all that was needed to keep MMoore away was 20 bags of manure.