sending her fanboy legion’s penises to withering lows. Yes, that’s right, intergalactic Jew princess Natalie Portman has signed on for the latest filmed version of zzzZZZZzzzzZZZZ…. ahem, sorry… Emily Brontë’s 1847 “masterpiece” Wuthering… zzZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZZzzzzZZZZZzzzzz

HEY YOU SAID YOU AIN’T A COP! Huh-wuh?? (rubs eyes). Jeesh… what happened? Must’ve fallen asleep trying to write this article. Which explains how I drifted off into a far-away land of magic chocolate rainbows and puppy-dog ice cream, where I was riding on a unicorn soliciting prostitutes and… well let’s just say it was awesome right up until the end. Anyway, Portman will star as the lead in this THIRD filmed adaptation of the aforementioned boring novel about a bunch of people with English accents who want to fuck but don’t, or whatever the hell it is those Victorian costume movies are about; I wouldn’t know because I’m not gay or pussy-whipped enough to have ever seen one. And I think I speak for all of Portman’s former fans when I rhetorically query: Are there rocket launchers in it? No? Ain’t interested.

Man, this girl showed so much promise when she did the pedo-classic The Professional, but post-Star Wars Portman, like her fat-uddered BFF Scarlett Johansson, has taken the snooze train to boring town, following the Winona Ryder career trajectory of doing nothing but coma-inducing indies and costume dramas in an attempt to gain “serious actor” cred.

And am I the only one to notice she’s a shitty actress? See Garden State. She’s HORRIBLE. My cat’s a better actor when he tries to look all nonchalant after puking on the rug. Whatever, Portman. Watch for her forthcoming grab to reclaim lost stardom by doing any blockbustery script thrown at her, followed by a descent into petty crime, boozing and pill-popping. I mean Natalie’s already ruining the careers of her musician boyfriends a la her predecessor Ms. Ryder, but seeing as it’s only Devandra Banhart we should be thankful. PLEASE move onto the Iron and Wine dude and any one of those douches in The Arcade Fire next, Natalie. It’s up to YOU to stop wussy, faux-earnest, superficial indie rock with your talent-sapping vagina.

But I digress. The upcoming Bronte redux is produced by Brit company Ecosse Films, and will lose money for all parties involved, though it will probably win a few sympathy Oscars, in categories no one cares about anyway.

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