With that in mind the upcoming film, Walk Hard seems destined for my father. An avid fan of rough humor, musical history, and over weight shirtless men, it seems as if John C. Reilly tapped into my father's subconscious and sucked ideas out with a straw. It seems this way also because my father has recently suffered brain damage and I need a scape goat. The scape goat is Hollywood. Paralyzed by the writer's strike they have undoubtedly decided to steal ideas from my father, thus paralyzing him.
I'll still be wheeling him into the theatre on December 21st. However it won't be handicap accessible so he'll have to enjoy the film while covered in bruises. It won't matter, he can't feel.
Here's a comic. Click to make it bigger.
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