October 23rd, 2013
In what might be the biggest dx/dt in actorly range ever Tom Hardy is going from playing Bane in 2012 to playing Elton John two years later.
No, really.
Cue Bane-voice quips from Galley Friend A.S. in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
Update: For the love of God, go to the comments. Twitter may be a complete waste of time, but I’m pretty sure it was invented for stuff like #EltonBane.
Best comment not posted was emailed in by Galley Friend S.B.:
THIS PIANO IS AHMED. THIS PIANO IS MO-BILE. AND THE IDENTITY OF THE ROCKET MAN . . . IS A MYSTERY!
Update 2: Respect–Galley Friend G.R. in the comments, for the win:
We take this tiny dancer from the band! The headliners! The Jesus freaks out in the streets, handing tickets out for God, and we give it back to you… the fans. The backstage pass is yours. None shall interfere. Do as you please. Start by knowing the words, and humming the tune! Step forward those who would count headlights on the highway. For you had a busy day. The band will be ripped from their tour bus, and cast out into the festival seating that we know and endure. Concerts will be held. Groupies will be enjoyed. Coke will be done. The band will survive, as they learn to serve true music. This great tour… it will endure. Rock will survive!
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NO ONE CAHHED WHO I WAS TIL I PUT ON THE DAAAANCE
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YOU FUNK LIKE A YOUNGAH MAN, WITH NOTHING HELD BACK
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Btw, this all makes sense, because at the end of the film, Catwoman turns Bane into a rocket man.
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You think Saturday night is your ally but you merely adopted fighting. I was born in it, molded by it. By the time I awoke before 2pm on a Sunday I was already a man and it was nothing to me but blindness.
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We take this tiny dancer from the band! The headliners! The Jesus freaks out in the streets, handing tickets out for God, and we give it back to you… the fans. The backstage pass is yours. None shall interfere. Do as you please. Start by knowing the words, and humming the tune! Step forward those who would count headlights on the highway. For you had a busy day. The band will be ripped from their tour bus, and cast out into the festival seating that we know and endure. Concerts will be held. Groupies will be enjoyed. Coke will be done. The band will survive, as they learn to serve true music. This great tour… it will endure. Rock will survive!
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Do you feel the love tonight?
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Or perhaps he’s wondering why you would marry a beard when you’d already come out eight years earlier.
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Calm down, Honky Cat! Now’s not the time to get back. That comes later.
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I will break the tiny dancer!
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Now, you have my permission to guess why they call it “the blues.”
Galley Friend A.S. October 23, 2013 at 3:50 pm
YOUR PANTSUIT MUST BE MORE SEQUINY