Eli Roth, get the hell out of my dreams – and I am so not joking. Your recent cameo appearance during a brief snooze resulted in the first time that I’ve ever woken up screaming from a sex dream, and I mean that in the worst possible way. It was like getting nailed by a deviously handsome fratboy version of Freddy Kreuger. Seriously, I don’t like your revolting self all that much. Your movies are a misogynistic waste of celluloid screen, and word on the street is that the poisoned apple doesn’t fall too far from the twisted tree. In addition, your post-directorial activities point towards your tendencies as a big fat whiner, and that sort of thing never turns out well.

Thankfully, I must admit that your liberal use of hair products in the below photos is really starting to turn me off, so, by all means, keep putting all that shit in your hair. Goodbye.