Yes. Let us see how smart I really am. The degree on the wall, the awards, all these pieces of paper framed in the office telling me I know what to type, how to make decisions and what to say and how to listen and to handle my career ... and ... sigh ...
Yeah. I'm f**king brilliant. Because the Reedus fans win -- that is where my loyalties lie -- and if this goes wrong, man am I going get busted. On many fronts. Most of them, with more career altering clout than me.
But in the last forty-eight hours I have been contacted by a number of Norman Reedus fans calling fowl that I switched actors before I finished The List. With only four movies to watch and with four movies left to back log, I moved on.
I have been asked to move back. I believe one or two other Saints comments might have been requested. Apparently Mr. Reedus' fans like those, too. Loyal fans there, Mr. Reedus.
So I sit here, staring at my screen, regretting, nervous and rejoicing at the same time. It did feel rather unfinished moving on when and how I was told to do it.
One rule. No yelling. Because trust me, with my martial arts and self defense, Mac would have gone over that cliff alone and I might not have had a mark on me. But yell at me ... and we head into a whole different game plan ... this one with me very sad and not able to type. And though that might just be annoying here at the world of movie blogging, it wreaks havoc on the rest of the day job as deadlines do get missed and I do -- and did -- get into trouble.
So let’s finish this. With a smile. And then I will feel good about all of it again.
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