Michael Bay has a death wish

If you haven't seen the Transformers teaser video you yet, you must be a nimrod that's wasting my fucking bandwith. Get the hell out. Anyway, if you have seen it and there is any trace of awesome in your system, you'll recall that when you saw the big-ass Transformers logo, you started fucking your girlfriend right then and there. However, when you saw Michael Bay's name come up, you probably lost whatever chubby you might have been retaining. Forever.

I've been proven right yet again. When I saw that name come up, I knew that no good would come of it. As kickass as all the Transformers are, Michael Bay has this thing he does where he's a total fuck-up. He's the rich man's Uwe Boll. If you let this little bastard get his grubby, probably well-groomed hands on something kickass, he'll find a way to make it shittier than you could have ever imagined. That's kind of ironic, seeing as how Bay's lack of imagination is one of the things that makes his movies so terrible.

When the first leaked shots of Optimus Prime, the most badass of all Autobots came out, people were shocked. Even I was flabbergasted by how profoundly retarded Bay could make Optimus Prime look. Words don't do it justice. I'll just let you take a look at his arm by itself, as an unprepared look at OP's whole body can cause blindness in the mildly intelligent.

Do you have something you'd like to explain to us Michael? What the fuck is that? Did Michael Bay just look through a bunch of the shit he drew in class during 5th grade and decide that it would be cool to put a bunch of flames on Optimus Prime: Kickass, flame-free leader of the Autobots?! Probably not, considering he was probably the little shit that sat up straight and listened the whole time. Fucking pansy.

I'm afraid there's only one way we can solve a travesty like this. And I actually have a creative way of doing it that I think no Transformers fan will disagree with. First thing I do is write a really kickass G.I. Joe script. It won't be hard, considering that G.I. Joe's first and only order of business is kicking the shit out of dudes with lisps and encouraging the children of our future to do the same. Once I've got G.I. Joe Blows Shit Up For Two And A Half Hours completely written, I'll take it into Michael Bay's office and personally read all 217 pages of awesomeness to him. Then I'll ask him to direct it. (I know you might think my plan is shitty right now, but you need to learn to be more patient and wait until I'm finished, you little bastard.) Then, after he sprouts a gigantic stiffy (if it's possible for Michael Bay to have a penis larger than 1/4 of an inch) at the prospect of ruining something so cool; I punch him right in the cock and use the edges of the script to slit his throat. Or give him a series of nasty papercuts. Either way, he and those close to him will think twice before trying to pull something like this again. I win. You win. American cinema wins.