Cameron H.

Another fantastic episode! I've loved Kristen Chenoweth since Pushing Daisies. She is so fantastic in everything she does. I really enjoyed their discussion, particularly their talk about how Hamilton has become a gateway to a world of musical theater and history--at least, it certainly has been that for me. It isn't that I was ever opposed to the idea of Musicals, but it wasn't something that I ever really gravitated toward. However, after listening to Hamilton, I have been doing my best to seek out this wonderful treasure trove of material that I have been unknowingly depriving myself of--including Wicked. It has also inspired me to read more historical biographies--my first being, of course, Chernow's biography of Hamilton. Listening to this episode also reminded me of an anecdote from the book which I feel says a lot about Hamilton, the man, and the genius of Miranda. In the book, Chernow recounts a possibly apocryphal story regarding an event that occurred the night before the duel. The story states that Hamilton couldn't sleep that night, (apparently Burr had no such trouble) and as he restlessly wondered his house, he heard a voice coming from a room. He entered the room, and found a young boy that he and Eliza had adopted. He asked the boy what was the matter, and the boy told him he was troubled or scared. The story goes on to say that Hamilton then climbed into bed with this young child, held his hands, and recited the Lord's Prayer with him. He then stayed their with the boy and held him through the night. It was such a wonderful story, and it's the first time in my life that a historical anecdote has ever brought me close to tears. Of course, Miranda read this same story when he read the book. And although its validity is questionable, his pursuit of telling the emotional Truth in his musical would have totally justified his adapting this beautiful moment. It paints his protagonist in an almost unrealistically fine light, and it ties together the thematic narrative of Hamilton as the unloved orphan. A lesser writer wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to include this moment, but that is the genius of Miranda--it's as much what he didn't include as much as what he did. He probably knew, as much as he might have liked to include this scene, and even if was 100% historically accurate, it would have taken the viewer out of the show. Also, it would have almost seemed like it was an attempt to deify Hamilton and demonize Burr--which I think would have been antithetical to what he was trying to convey in the show.

According to Clash of the Titans rules--maybe. But are we holding that fictional reality up as the sole metaphysical explanation as to how these make-believe things work? Why does it have to follow the CotT's rules? Or anyone else's rules? I'm just positing a hypothetical. Let's cast off the shackles of Clash of the Titans. I know you're not into comic books, but maybe this will work as an analogy anyway: If I'm watching a Batman movie, then in the reality of that movie, the fictional DC Comics character of "Batman" can't possibly exist, right? All I'm doing is applying that same logic to these types of films. If we are doing a movie about Egyptian Gods, and in it we are positing that they are the sole creators of the Universe and of all life, then that automatically negates all other creation myths--unless it doesn't (Hence my Battleworld scenario) So, in the fiction of Gods of Egypt they would have created all life, not just Egyptian life (the title notwithstanding). They are "Egyptian Gods" only insofar as the people of that region dreamed them up. To them, they were the Gods of Everything--including the Maori or whatever. To the ancient Egyptians, the Maori could believe whatever they wanted to, but the Egyptian Gods still created them.

I mean, historically--yeah. But I think if you are doing a modern movie about Gods ruling the World and you don't include anything but this tiny fraction of the Earth, you kind of make the Gods look sort of lame. This also opens the possibility of a much more diverse cast. Who says Ra can't be Latino? Or Hercules can't be Asian? If the Gods rule the entire Earth, then their pantheon should reflect the diversity of the planet. If their not going to do that. If they're just going to say, "The Gods don't rule the Earth, they just rule these couple of countries," then my solution is to Battleworld the shit out of it. At least that would be interesting...

How come when you watch movies like this or Clash of the Titans, even though the characters are supposed to be the "Gods of Earth" or whatever, they all seem to stick to their own specific regions? If you're a God, why would you limit yourself to just one area? For instance, why doesn't Horus just show up in Japan? He wouldn't need a reason. He's a God. He could just do that, couldn't he? Then again, I do plan on addressing all of this in my upcoming film, Pantheon Wars! In my movie, the gods of the different pantheons, tricked by the mischievous Coyote, will be pitted against one another for global dominance. It will feature a diverse cast from all around the world and answer the age old question: whose gods are the best? Hollywood--you may begin the bidding war for the script. I'll be waiting...

No offense taken! There was literally nothing of substance in it--just a stupid joke. I'm sure you're not the only one who rolled their eyes and just scrolled right on through. However, let's not wish that anyone "Burn in Hell." I know my post may have annoyed you, but Quasar is a fucking awesome dude. I was beyond flattered that he seemed to enjoy my dumb, self-indulgent, joke post. If it seriously becomes a "thing" I would be happy to wrap the whole damn thing in "spoiler" tags. I'm not precious of my posts. Let's all just have fun out there!

Hmmm...you seem to know an awful lot about how to ripoff Red Box...

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE REDBOX CUSTOMER WHO RENTED GODS OF EGYPT BEFORE ME. Dear Sir or Madam (Who am I kidding? Statistically, you’re most definitely a man.) How could you? I mean: How. Could. You? Are you proud of yourself? I bet you are. I just bet you’re cackling gooey chunks of phlegm through your crooked, yellow teeth. Tell me, as you clutch your illicitly obtained copy of Gods of Egypt in your grubby little fingers, does the echoing of your tittering laughter frighten the neighborhood children as the pass over the rank and sludgy sewer you most certainly call home? I say this, because you, sir, are pure human excrement. Oh? Who am I? My name is Cameron, you may have heard of me, although you may know me better by my pseudonym “Cameron H.” That’s right, motherfucker: That Cameron H. Do I have your attention now? I thought so, motherfucker. I also happen to be the person who was both bamboozled and ill-used by your “clever” con and heinous larceny—you vacuous sack of dilophosaur spunk. You see, months ago, I tried to watch Gods of Egypt. I enjoy the occasional shitty movie, and to that end, I spent six whole dollars to rent this turd of a film on Amazon Prime. However, I found it so utterly terrible in quality and so reprehensible in execution that I only got as far as seeing Geoffrey Rush appear on screen as an Egyptian God floating on what appeared to be an interstellar sailboat that I finally had to turn it off. I had to eat that cost, but I was fine with it believing that I had put this travesty of cinema behind me forever. Then, earlier this week, comedian, humanitarian, and all around raconteur, Paul Scheer announced that they would be covering this movie for the fabulous podcast, “How Did This Get Made.” Since discovering this inimitable show and catching up on its backlog, I have only failed to not watch the movie being covered twice—Sharknadoes Two and Three—and both of those were by choice. That means, since Ep 93 (Staying Alive), I have either rented, bought, or in some other way, legally watched nearly fifty terrible movies. A streak that has gone unbroken—until now. When the inestimable Mr. Scheer announced this movie, I found myself unwilling to spend another six dollars on this movie, which would have nearly equaled the cost of buying the damn thing in the first place. So I buried my dignity deep down inside me and capitulated to ignominy, and I relented to renting it again—with the strict caveat that I wouldn’t spend more than two dollars to do so. Yesterday, ashamed and humiliated, I swallowed my pride, stood before that conspicuous scarlet box, pressed the appropriate buttons, and out popped, what I thought was, a copy of Gods of Egypt. Quickly, I grabbed the disc and scurried out of the area lest anyone witness my shameful act. And so it was, late last night, I entered a darkened room on the tips of toes as the rest of my household dreamt the untroubled dreams of the morally pure, slipped the disc into my device, and was greeted with the error, “DISC FORMAT INCOMPATIBLE WITH THIS DEVICE.” Confused, I ejected the disc, and it was then that I uncovered the result of your dastardly machinations. Now, let me tell you who you are! You are the ingrown and infected pubic hair on an elephant’s taint-- the bilious, syphilitic canker on a baboon’s bare burgundy ass. You are the troglodytic, pus filled pustule of a “person” who rented a two hour, whitewashed, videogame cut scene that can best be described as the visual representation of what it must feel like to have a fatal embolism. You watched this and then thought to yourself, “This movie and I must never be parted.” You then proceeded to defraud both myself and the fine people of Redbox Inc. Sure, you could have just returned it and purchased it through legal means, but no, that just isn’t your style—you maggot filled scrotum. It wasn’t just any copy of Gods of Egypt, it had to be that copy. My copy. So what did you do? How did you perform this feat of ingenious villainy? Well, I’ll tell you. You carefully and meticulously pealed the barcode off the disc, a feat that probably took days judging from the attentive care you took, and stuck it on a blank DVD-R. This barcode, as you well know, is how Redbox is able to record when a title has been returned to one of their kiosks. It also makes it possible for that disc to be re-rented by poor, unsuspecting Redbox customers. Bravo. Bra-fucking-vo. It was a plan worthy of the most nefarious of comic book villains, performed with the cold and detached premeditation of a sociopath. Do you understand what this means? This means that you have effectively precluded me from engaging in the insightful, often hilarious, and intelligent dialogs I like to be a part of with the superlative folks over on the Earwolf forums on a near daily basis. Wonderful people like Taylor Anne Photo, Auden, Elektra Boogaloo, Quasar Sniffer, and others too numerous to mention, but no less beloved by me, who each have more integrity in one discarded toe nail clipping than you have in your entire, miserable body. And as they all laugh and rip apart the movie you hold so dear you felt the need to pilfer it, I’ll have to sit sullenly on the sidelines just wishing I could be part of the conversation. In and of itself, this transgression would be enough to warrant my eternal scorn, but that’s not even the end of my degradation. Do you want to know what the worst part was--the part that eroded away my very sense of person? That moment came when, out of a sense of righteous justice, I had to register an account with Redbox to report your odious crime. And, in doing so, I had to sit in front of a goddamn computer screen and admit to another human being—openly and without prevarication—that, yes, I did intentionally rent a copy of Gods of Egypt, and yes, I was unhappy because I was unable to watch it. I did that. Me. Sure, the good people over at Redbox gave me a credit to rent another movie, and in registering for an account with them, another free rental to use in the future. But that doesn’t change the fact that for a for five soul mutilating minutes, the spotlight of judgement and recrimination was placed squarely on my shoulders, and wreathed as I was in that corona of admonishment, I was forced to stand in my truth. This is me, I had to admit. A person who not only wanted to watch Gods of Egypt but was willing to pay for the privilege to do so. Twice. Of course, it wasn’t all out of a sense of justice that I reported you. No, sadly that would require a sense of innate altruism that, as a flawed and imperfect being, I simply do not possess. In all honesty, I really didn’t want to return the movie and have the next sad, unfortunate soul to try and rent this movie blame me for your misdeed. I mean, you realize this is all easily trackable, right? That’s what the barcodes are for. They just need to match the barcode with the credit card that rented it before me. Which…should lead them directly to you—that is unless you used a stolen credit card. But somehow, I just don’t see you as the type of person who might have even considered that as an option. And if it was a stolen card, why wouldn’t you just use it to buy a brand new copy of Gods of Egypt--free of all the greasy, dick-prints that I assume all Redbox discs must be covered with? No. Again, that’s just not your style. Your intention was to hurt and humiliate, and I’m sad to say, you succeeded. So enjoy the fruits of your ill-gotten gain, although, I fear your time together may soon be over. I don’t pretend to possess the Messianic benevolence of the people over at the Redbox Corporation. For all I know, they may view the life of one as enamored by the pomp and spectacle of Gods of Egypt, as you evidentially are, as a life too pathetic and deplorable to prosecute. However, I am not so benevolent, and for my part, you will not find me so forgiving. For the emotional pain, anguish, and abasement that I was forced to endure, I truly hope that you are met with full might and holy wrath of Redbox’s Loss Prevention team. And as you are forced to endure the morally questionable, but highly effective, interrogation techniques of Redbox’s elite team of inquisitors, I hope they contact me. I hope they call me as I am listening or re-listening to my favorite podcast discuss a movie, that because of your vile and opprobrious actions, I was unable to see, just so I can legally purchase your copy of Gods of Egypt from them and watch in joy as the feeling of irrevocable loss contorts your face into a mirror of your misshapen soul as I snap it in twain in front of your stupid, ugly face. Yours Sincerely, Cameron “Cameron H” H. P.S. No. I have not considered renting it again. It has already brought too much misery in my life.

I've been having an astronomically "meh" day...and then I saw this!

I agree that Noah definitely has potential. Truth be told, I wasn't too thrilled when Stewart took over for Kilborn. In my opinion, it took a couple of years for Stewart to really hit his stride, but once he did, he was amazing, and Kilborn became little more than a footnote. I feel like this could be the same for Noah--although Stewart will never be entirely forgotten. Maybe it's already happening/happened. I may check it out again after the baby is born. As funny as it might sound, another reason we stopped watching The Daily Show is because this has been a very difficult pregnancy for us--especially (of course) for my wife. With all the shit going on this year--globally, nationally, professionally, and personally--I suggested maybe we stop watching the news for awhile--even a comedic facsimile of the news. Stress is always going to be there, but if we can control, at least a little bit, where it's coming from, it's better all around. Which isn't to say we've lived in sensory deprivation, but we're able to control where it's coming from and how much we're willing to consume. It's helped a lot.

I wish! More like:

Yeah, I just read about this too. It's a real bummer. However, as much as I like Larry Wilmore (which is a lot), I never really got into The Nightly Show. It was just never as funny as I wanted it to be, which is a shame, because Wilmore is hilarious. After a couple of episodes, I kind of gave up on it. The same goes for Trevor Noah. I was a huge defender of his when he first took over for Stewart. I think he oozes charm and is insanely funny, and although I stuck with it for 6 or 7 months, I became disillusioned with it. Ultimately, I ended up having a couple of problems with Noah. First of all, and this may be conjecture, but because Noah isn't American, it felt like his comedy was kind of toothless. Like, either he wasn't into it, or he didn't feel like he had the right to critique it. With Stewart, you could feel his barely contained rage bubbling just below the surface as he skewered the shitty politicians and news outlets, and I feel like a lot of that is due to the fact that he is an American. And while you can have someone who is not native born do the same thing (John Oliver is a great example of this), I feel like, especially after the early controversies that surrounded him when he took over, Noah ended up playing it a little bit too safe. I feel like he felt like he was an outsider, or at least felt like he'd be perceived as an outsider, and tried not to rock the boat too much. Stewart had passion, whereas Noah comes off as aloof. Stewart was such a force, "people" like Fox News started treating him like a real news person and a real threat to their philosophies and agenda. I don't think Noah has ever created quite this kind of stir, and I'm not sure that he ever will. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I found that Noah took a lot longer to get to the stories. I remember a big thing would happen, and my wife and I--even though we already weren't daily watchers of The Daily Show near the end of Stewart's tenure--would be like, "We have to watch The Daily Show tomorrow and hear what John has to say about this." With Noah, he would report on something and I would be like, "Yeah, that happened last week and has already been reported to death..." As it became less and less topical, I became less and less engaged. By the time he mentioned it, I had already heard about it, made fun of it, and had moved on. Of course, it's been a couple of months since I've watched an episode and maybe things have gotten better... And I do wish The Nightly Show hadn't been cancelled, because even if I wasn't in to it, I feel like it was still an important show to be on the air. I love them both and I wish them both well.

I just finished listening and this podcast was an absolute treat! Loved every second of it. Adam was a fantastic inaugural guest! As far as "Hurricane" is concerned, I think it's also my favorite song (I guess we'll have to wait until the next episode so I can change my mind), but it was a slow burn for me as well. I have not seen the show, so a lot of the nuance that can be conveyed with the acting was lost on me. I've always liked the song, but when I first heard it, I was wondering why we were getting a re-telling of his childhood in the Second Act. It wasn't until later that I realized that it's Hamilton taking stock of his situation and saying, "Hey, whenever I'm in trouble, writing is the tool I've used to get out" little realizing that the instrument of his deliverance has suddenly become the instrument of his destruction. I also never really got the "Wait for It" line in the song until recently. To me, it was just another line weaved into the greater tapestry, but I missed its significance. Aside from the interpretations given in the episode, the one that gets me is the one I didn't realize until I read Hamilton: The Revolution. Basically, Aaron Burr--as Hamilton's Iago--is saying, "Here's the thing I've been singing about this whole show! I've been waiting for years for you to mess up, and now, finally, my philosophy is about to be proven right!" Again, maybe seeing this onstage would have made this more apparent, but when I read that, I was blown away. Great work, guys! I can't wait for the next one so I can geek out some more! If anyone wants to discuss In the Heights or 21 Chump Street, I'm all for that as well

Gods of Egypt?!? I rented this as soon as it was released, fully aware of the controversy, but felt it could still be a dumb, fun movie--it was not. I got as far as Geoffrey Rush on his space, sailboat and had to turn it off. It was the cinematic equivalent of a migraine. Now, I'm not sure if I really want to put myself through that again. On the one hand, I've already paid money to give up on this turd and I don't want them to have any more, but on the other, it's a Jason pick. I'm kind of curious what he may have seen in it that I missed...

Okay, I was just thinking about this again. Could you please explain to me

Just finished Stranger Things...Overall, I really liked it but I do kind of wish that it had ended with

Thanks, Taylor Anne! I'm glad it was received with the good intentions with which it was written. I also just noticed something else in the quote I pulled from that article that made me think of something else. At the end of that quote, it says, "From an adult eye, despite the crisis, her characterization seems claustrophobic given a full television season." I have a response for that as well. Yes, 8 hours of television is a long time and should leave plenty of room for characterization, but in the reality of the show, all of this seems to be occurring over the course of maybe 48-72 hours. Again, Joyce is raw with emotions. She literally just lost her kid. However you would delve into Joyce's personal life might feel weird given the circumstances. Of course she's focused on her missing son! It literally just happened a couple of hours ago! I think having her be anything but concerned for her son would be kind of out of place.

I confess I didn't read the whole article since it started to give a couple spoilers that I didn't want revealed quite yet. But I pulled this quote regarding Joyce: I agree that the depiction is "claustrophobic," but I don't know if some of these observations are entirely fair. In regard to her "job conveniently gives her leave" I find it hard to believe any job, including the hive of scum and supervillainy I work for, would give me a hard time getting off work in a similar situation. I didn't really need a scene where she quits her job because they can't cover her shift or something. Having her "ex on the outs" just seems like a very realistic point given the movie takes place in the eighties--a time when divorce was becoming more and more of a common thing. Johnathan being "beyond her scope" also makes sense when you consider they are so hard up that he works a lot of the time and they even make a point of saying he's not supposed to take shifts at work when she's working. It sounds to me like the two of them are like two ships passing in the night. I felt her portrayal was pretty realistic all things considering and a life that I've seen echoed in real life more than once. I totally get where she's coming from in the show. Her whole life is about her sons, but Will more so because he's young. Johnathan is a kid that is being forced into early adulthood. She doesn't have a rich inner life because her whole life is to provide for and protect her sons as best she can. I'm sure she wishes things were different, but in the drama of the show, I don't know if she needs to have a monologue in wishes she had done something different with her life. She's accepted that her sons ARE her life. And while that may not be satisfying to some, it is a perfectly valid life choice. I guess what I'm saying is that I thought she came off as a totally believable and true to life character--or at least, one type of character that exists in real life. If that's who she is, then that's who she is. I don't know if it's fair to criticize Joyce for the failings of other TV and movies who regularly fail to provide more nuanced female characters. I feel like every depiction has to be judged on its own merit. If she wants to have a life solely devoted to the welfare of her kids, and that becomes her life--as long as she's living her life the way she wants to, and she's making her own choices--I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I felt for her all the way, and I never felt like she was being given short shrift character-wise. However, I'm responding to this from a male biased perspective. I'm not even sure if I'm explaining my opinion adequately. Please correct me if I'm missing the point. I'm not sure if I even have the right to comment on it, but I feel like I'm in a safe place and you all know me well enough by now to know I don;t mean anything malicious or purposefully insulting. Lil Cameron warmly receives your hug!

Um...I guess insofar as it centers around a group of misfit kids, but I wouldn't say it's very Goonies-y. More like creepy E.T. But that isn't quite right either. It's definitely like something, but I may be too young to get the exact reference. It's like an extended vignette from some kind of eighties horror anthology show. If that was ever a thing. I feel like the perfect comparison is on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite articulate it. It's good though. You should check it out.

Ha! I had the same thing happen to me the other day. Then I discovered the forums auto save. I was all: Just don't forget to come back to it.

That is disappointing. Steve is total a piece of shit. But, to echo Ofcoursemyhorse, maybe that is a big problem I had with that character. He was not a "wrong choice" boyfriend in the same way a Mr. William Zabka was in the eighties. I simply couldn't wrap my head around why she would want to be with him in the first place. Assuming Nancy is attracted to him in a superficial type way, he's not an athlete, he isn't portrayed as being the "cool" or "popular" guy, he doesn't appear to be that wealthy, and he's not exactly a supermodel. I'm fine if for the story she is attracted to "the wrong guy," but I kind of need to know what she was expecting to get out of the relationship. I need to know, from her perspective, "why him?" Even if it's as simple as "I've had a crush on him since the third grade." But we don't get any of that. The dude is just a prick. However, I don't mind if her and Johnathan get together (I still haven't finished it, so I don't know what's going to happen with that). I really liked him. He was such a great older brother and son. He kind of reminded me of Brand from the Goonies. The type of older brother that the younger brother and his friends think is super cool, but in his own peer group, he's kind of a freak. I felt so bad for him during the "ripping of the pictures scene." There was no way out of that. There was no argument he could make. He was, in fact, being a creeper. However, I could see a lot of myself in Johnathan. I was that punk rock kid, who wasn't really all that bad and a little too old for my age. I used to be shy and withdrawn and would sequester myself in uninhabited corners of the school during lunch breaks to write silly little stories in a notebook because I couldn't relate to the people around me. I remember being picked on, and just taking it. Just taking it because you feel alone and to fight back just made you realize that no one had your back. If you fought back, they would just use that to pick on you more. So you just take it. And even though the people who did were royal douchenozzles, it still hurt--a lot. I would go to my locker to find "f*g" written in Sharpie on the door, and on one glorious occasion, had crap thrown at me in class because I had the gall to wear a Bob Marley shirt to school. So...I'm all for Johnathan. Good kid, that one. Just confused and misunderstood. I just want him to have a happy ending.

So far, I'm really digging Stranger Things! I have one more episode to go and can't wait. I think the kids are incredible! Winona kills it, and to answer Auden's observation from above, I have to agree with Taylor Anne. Given the circumstances, I think Winona acts exactly as any parent (regardless of gender) would in that situation. Hell, if I lose sight of my son for a second in a department store, my heart skips a beat (He's hiding behind the clothes. He's always hiding behind the clothes...) The actors portraying Hopper and Barbara (Dear, sweet Barbara) gave fantastic performances as well. Acting-wise, the only two people who I'm not incredibly keen on are Modine and the douchebag boyfriend. I mean, I get why Modine is there and he "fits" the part, but I'm just not feeling it. However, this may be a case of "me, not him" as I've never really liked Modine all that much. As far as the douchebag boyfriend, I think he's a fine actor, I just feel like the actor doesn't fit the time period. He stands out to me for some reason as just not belonging. Every time I see him I feel like he's going to whip out his iPhone or something. Most of all, it's the tiny flourishes that I found refreshing. I liked the scene where Mike's father asks, "Why is her head shaved?" Of course, this out of touch, superficial guy is going to ask that! Yet somehow this buffoonish turd of a person just happens to be asking an entirely relevant question. I also liked scenes where a character just lights a cigarette, not because they're the "bad guy" or "European," but because, of course! They absolutely would. I love that this comes off unremarked and without sanctimony. Even scenes as simple as watching three unsupervised, helmet-less kids riding around town having an adventure is like a breath of fresh air. All in all, Stranger Things scratches an itch I didn't know needed to be scratched. Yes, it calls back to a lot of stuff from that time period, some people might even call it derivative, but that seems to be the point. There are no new stories, just new ways of telling them and I'm very interested to see what comes next. More of this type of stuff please.

Based on what I know about the Lads from Liverpool, if you're going to base your favorite on moral probity, your best bet is to go with Stuart Sutcliffe. However, in their defense, all four of them did end up in extremely successful, long term relationships, so I think that does say something about their individual characters (John/Yoko 1969-1980; Paul/Linda 1969-1998; George/Olivia 1978-2001; Ringo/Barbara 1981-present). And while I don't think any of them were perfect, I think a lot of their failings in their personal relationships (either romantically or with each other) has to do with the fact that they were so young--a point Devin made in the episode. Shoot, when they broke up, George was only 26 and none of them had hit 30 yet! If you think of it this way, in six short years, from 1963-1969 (they had already unofficially broken up before Paul's announcement in 1970), these four kids somehow wrote and recorded 13 albums (plus a ton of non-album singles), filmed 4 movies, toured the world multiple times, started a business, had to deal with "Bigger than Jesus" controversies and the ensuing death threats, suffer through the death of their manager, and God knows what else. With all of that going on, it's really no wonder that none of them could maintain a healthy relationship until after the band had broken up.

Yes. And the next time you're driving that way with your pal Gus to Break some Bad, make sure you keep some maxi-pads in the glove compartment. If you don't, it could be a real "disaster."