Oh Captain, My Captain…

I didn’t go to see ‘Dead Poet’s Society’ under the best of conditions. I went with a group of ‘laddish’ lads, we were about 16 years old and obsessed with beer, girls, football, sweariness and general loutery as you would expect.

So we all filed in to the cinema and lined up – every step of the way loudly firing one -liners at each other and yobbishly taking the piss out of everybody and everything around us. We were not about to start taking anything seriously...

Then the film started…slowly but surely…one by one…we all went quiet.

At the end of the movie, when they all stand on their desks, my eyes were filled with tears of pride…and then suddenly the credits started rolling…

‘Shitty holy motherfucking bollock bags!’ I thought to myself – ‘I can’t get caught blarting by the lads, I’ll be a laughing stock!’

As the lights went up I rapidly ran my sleeve across my face with a ‘sniff’ to wipe away my tears…yet as I glanced around to see if I had been rumbled, I noticed every single one of my red-eyed mates doing the exact same thing…

We never spoke of it again.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 18 Jul 2008, 16:36, 6 replies)

I'm immune to that film
We were made to study it in English class so I've watched every scene about 4 trillion times.
Granted it was better than doing another lump of Shakespeares tripe.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Fri 18 Jul 2008, 16:39, closed)

I soooo wanted to bitchslap that kid.
Suicide? Shit. Why not just do some community theater? Why allow the old tyrant to run your life? Tell him to fuck off as he's already lived his own life and let you live yours as you please. It worked for me.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 18 Jul 2008, 16:44, closed)

That film
is partly responsible or my early retirement from education. I never had a teacher that even vaguely seemed to care about what they were teaching.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Fri 18 Jul 2008, 16:46, closed)

I love you, Flakey
but the mere mention of Robin Williams makes me all stabby inside.

I loathe his twee emoting almost as much as his 'speaking in a variety of knobbish voices whilst gurning is a suitable subsitute for actual comedy' routine.

His Mr Punch-esque face makes me involuntarily clench my fists in rage and the three words Good, Morning and Vietnam combined together are enough to give me an aneurysm.

He is the Clouseau to my Dreyfuss.

*tics uncontrollably*
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 18 Jul 2008, 17:00, closed)

Mr Boyce, I salute you.
Finally, someone who shares my utter, utter dislike of Robin 'nanu-nanu' Williams.

I sense that your feelings are of a similar level of vehement non-mirth as my own, and I suspect we are few in number.

Captain, my captain?

Cunt.
( Ghoti Fingers, Fri 18 Jul 2008, 18:50, closed)

Robin Willams
is a complete knobjockey. End of.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 24 Jul 2008, 8:24, closed)