The novel of the film of the comic of the same name
O god, it burns!
If you dare, pull up Inside This Book. Or don't, you'll be better off; its morass of swirling, turgid prose itself bedecked, with dependant clauses, which were recursive, bombastic, riddled with complexities themselves fraught with abecedarian faux pas so redolent with fault that the benighted, wayward, reader, overcome with revulsion, might find itself hastily perplexed, were abominable.
If you dare, pull up Inside This Book. Or don't, you'll be better off; its morass of swirling, turgid prose itself bedecked, with dependant clauses, which were recursive, bombastic, riddled with complexities themselves fraught with abecedarian faux pas so redolent with fault that the benighted, wayward, reader, overcome with revulsion, might find itself hastily perplexed, were abominable.
no subject
On the anecdote, I find it amusingly telling that you need to specify Francis Ford Coppola's Bram Stoker's Dracula. The world of popular culture is a strange one.
no subject
OTOH, I do know of one instance where Alan permanently cut off a decades-long friendship with no warning, over something that most bystanders think to have been a pretty minor slight, so who knows?