Tom Cruise; Walkin a Thin Line OR I’m Back.

I’m sure everyone is aware of Tommie’s recent hijinx. I’m also sure everyone’s aware of how big a doosh Tommie is. And if you check Fitz’s site, then you’re also aware that if he makes one more slip up, I have an official contract out to kill Tom Cruise. So I’m going to take this opportunity to write my manifesto on good ol’ Tom Cruise.

Listen up, chief, because these may very well be the last words you ever read. Girls say that you’re so cute and hot (nhjic), but after seeing you without a shirt on in one of your crapshit movies, I would compare you to a topless Ishtar.

You’re an overactor, and you take too long to deliver your lines (which is more the director’s and editor’s and writer’s fault than your’s) but I still blame you. Sure you’ve had a few good movies (Collateral, Vanilla Sky, Minority Report, and Magnolia most notably), but the vast majority of your movies have all been the same. You play some rich boy, magazine editor, karate expert bad ass, fighter pilot, sports agent good-guy with nothing to loose until everthing is taken from you. That’s not acting, that’s PLAYING. James Gandolfini in “The Mexican” as a gay hitman, now that’s acting!

I saw that “Inside the Actor’s Studio” with host James Lipton, where you claimed to be so hands on with your every role in every movie from “Top Gun” to “Out of the Closet”, due out sometime next year, where you play some gayfag with aids (not really acting?). You spend months perfecting how your character would act and what he would say, even when you were a nobody. Guess what, genius, you have no right to claim any success for your interpretation of your characters in your movies, because they aren’t created by you; they are created by writers and studio execs. You’re just the face-man, and are as talentless as a blind-deaf prostitute.

You’re not a famous Hollywood hotshot because you’re good, you’re famous because you have been famous for a while and you haven’t done anything incredibly stupid yet. As I said, one more misstep and your life is mine. Keep your $600 an hour hair dresser, and your $500 an hour therapist (if you believe in it) and eff off. In a few years you’ll be forgotten and someone like Bam Margera or The Rock will replace you, and you’ll be in some mental hospital, or in rehab, or hiding in Europe.

The point is, regardless of who kills you or when your life ends or where you hide, you’re still going to be a horri-bill person and a terrible actor.

Speaking of Horri-Bill, I’ve decided to resurrect the HB Awards and turn them into a twice a year event. Send your submissions for actor, actress, movie, and any other category you can think of. Post them here, and Tom Cruise, go to Hell.