All I Need is Some Hot Fuzz

For some reason, I’ve been Mr. Crankypants these past few days. I’m not quite sure why. But because delving into some deep psychoanalysis of what’s causing my blahs is sooooo Dawson’s Creek circa 1997, I am spending this evening watching Hot Fuzz instead. It’s cheaper than a shrink.

Aaaaaah, violence. Sweet, comforting violence.
Aaaaaah, violence. Sweet, comforting violence.

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