xXx: Return of Xander Cage
The last forty minutes of the movie do come together in a pretty diverting way.
Blame it on Roger Ebert. He Tweeted up (@ebertchicago) a coupla weeks ago and I have learned from his example that there's more to Twitty-ositude than using a small keyboard to broadcast what you're doing at any given moment. You see, in my daily Intertubular rounds (it's part of my job), I come across all kinds of interesting -- even fascinating -- things that I never get around to writing about. Often because all I want to say is: "Take a look at this, why don't ya?"
So, that's what I will do. I will show you all the good stuff. And warn you about the bad stuff. I do not like the term "follow," for I am neither a Pied Piper, a Fantastik, nor a Jesus Christ, but do pop over here and help me get started, won't you? That's jeeemerson. Thank you.
Above: The most flattering mug shot I could find. Almost used it for my passport.
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