If you haven’t heard yet, James Bond has sold his soul to Heineken, which is horrific, because even James Bond’s soul used to be suave.
This is a gargantuan shock and disappointment from the lady killer who was drinking dry, shaken vodka martinis before Jesus was born. It’s like I just heard that DKNY struck a deal with Superman to wear a summer dress instead of a cape. And Heineken? Really? He could have at least picked Chimay or Pacifico or something cool. I’m waiting for him to show up in his next movie wearing Dockers and a cardigan sweater. I’m so disappointed in you, James. Heineken? What a tool!
