Can Fandango remove movies you have purchased on its service? Yes, legally and technically, they can.
When you "buy" a digital movie on Fandango (via Fandango at Home, formerly Vudu), you do not legally own a physical copy or permanent file. Instead, the terms of service grant you a non-exclusive, limited, revocable license to stream and access that title for as long as Fandango maintains the digital distribution rights.
@Fandango
@elonmusk Explains why the ads I see are for dropshipped tactical flashlights and baldness cures.If they were really that smart, they’d be using an ad blocker.
Gas actually dipped down to the mid-90-cent range during the 1986–1988 oil glut too, which lines up with that pre-1990 Kmart logo and the Sun Harvest Farms sign beneath it. 1998 had cheap gas, but Kmart had already ditched the turquoise lettering eight years prior. Trust me we dont miss.
activision really hit us with the cleanest legal heist in gaming history
you swore zero carry forward was for our tactical immersion and to wipe the slate clean
we celebrated losing two years of camo grinds like it was a spiritual detox
then launch night drops and my naked level one iron sights get vaporized by a glowing irradiated clown who paid eighty bucks ten minutes ago to turn people into purple glitter
you didn't burn the circus down to fix the game
you burned the circus down so you could charge us admission to the exact same tent all over again
respect the hustle honestly
That right there is the legendary floor-mounted high-beam switch, likely sitting on the driver-side floor of a classic 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle (or roughly any GM, Ford, or Chrysler land-yacht from about 1927 up until Detroit decided hands were better than feet around 1989).
The first time I ever encountered one, my grandfather threw me the keys to his '76 Chevy truck on a pitch-black backroad. An oncoming logging truck crested the hill, blinding us with the fury of a thousand suns. He yells, "HIT THE BRIGHTS!"
I’m on the steering column slapping the turn-signal lever like a frantic cat batting a fly—nothing is happening. The wiper blades turn on. The horn blares. Absolute chaos.
Grandpa casually reaches his steel-toed boot across the transmission hump, stomps a spot on the carpet like he’s killing a roach, and instantly restores order to the universe with a sharp, metallic CLACK.
For decades, Detroit trusted our clumsy, mud-caked boots to regulate nighttime visibility, and honestly, clicking a high-beam switch with your foot made you feel like you were firing torpedoes from a submarine.
@DrDisrespect@spoks41@DrDisrespect I was there and I still have PTSD. The heat radiating off your red turtleneck was 140 degrees. You were sweating so aggressively the glass on the CRT monitor was fogging up between rounds.