Your Helatorstai dose of Surreal

The other day Mrs. Hatboy, who is watching Narcos in order to flesh out her Spanish with a bit more obscenity, reported this horrible little story from the Netflix front lines. Apparently the real Colombian drug lords don’t appreciate being disrespected, and may or may not have ordered a hit on a Netflix location manager.

This is obviously very sad news and nobody – least of all an innocent guy just out to help make cool TV and movies – deserves to be gunned down by thugs. My sympathies to Carlos Muñoz Portal and his family. I want to make a Portal joke, but I already went one worse so what the heck. Here’s a snippet of the conversation that occurred when Escobar’s brother apparently suggested Netflix hire hitmen to act as bodyguards, and went on to be casually insulting about the Netflix executives in general.


While it would definitely be in poor taste to pitch it to Netflix, I couldn’t stop thinking about the amazing hilarious cheesiness of the show (in true Troy McClure Handle With Care style), and obviously it’s very important that Netflix doesn’t bow to the will of these gun-toting bullies. What better way to show they have no fear?

Or, you know, keep making Narcos, I guess. I hear it’s good too.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy.
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1 Response to Your Helatorstai dose of Surreal

  1. Holy fucking shit. I just…. I…. No I have nothing to add.

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