... Stop

.

Somehow I missed these pictures of Shia standing around on the set of Transformers 2 (aka the movie you'd have to not only pay me a lot - and I mean a lot - of money to see, but also offer me free blow-jobs from an on-call Jake Gyllenhaal for the rest of my life in order to get me to see it) yesterday at JJ, so I must ask if we (aka The Internet) have already decided if he's looking buffer than usual. A very important question, to be sure! Screw the election - I need to know if Shia's bust has buffed up. Now I have some visual of him laying at home in bed at night repeating that manta, "I must, I must, I must increase my bust!" I don't know. I keep typing, thinking I might say something worthwhile. Can I stop now? It's obvious this is going nowhere. You know it, I know it. Everybody knows it, but we're all just watching it happen, saying nothing. It's like a car crash in slow-motion. Viscera metallic and human blending together in a whirlwind of frozen horror. It's just like that. Indeed. Amen. The end. And stuff. Dear god make it
.