Christmas Interruptus

Diane,

Just a quick word to say that in the midst of the bleakest, blackest Christmas ever, there is one shining light of hope guiding some metaphorical wise men to an imaginary cradle where happiness personified is having womb-gunk and afterbirth-juice wiped off his glistening little brow.  And it’s this: Platinum Dunes won’t be remaking “Rosemary’s Baby” after all.

Now I have a machine gun.  Ho-ho-ho!

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