By George Tomlin
Goddamn it, I have spent $40 on this fucking movie. And if you count the popcorn and drinks I had to buy for me and her that’s another $25. Jesus Christ, there better be boobs in this thing. I doubt it though. These types of movies never do. It’s one of those fancy artsy movies that wants to punish you for wanting to see it, made by one of those bitch-ass Jean-Luc Godard wannabes. New Wave’s dead you piece of shit. No one cares that your editing disrupts the rules of continuity. Your continuity isn’t good enough for people to worry that it’s being disrupted.
But good thing this stupid movie is in black and white. God forbid no one understand the irony of putting a movie where the overdone theme of the moral ambiguity in life be placed against a backdrop of color binary. I hope this movie got you laid you pretentious turd, because I certainly will not, which is why I’m praying to God there are some boobs in this thing. Please. Make it worth it that I watched a forty-five minute conversation where the metaphor of a broken tea cup pointing to the death of civility in modern society could not have been more pounded into the heads of the viewers.
Good lord, she’s been in the bathroom a long time.
At this point I’ll even take ironic nudity. Even if the boobs are shown only to make a point about how shamelessly exploitative it is to solely treat a woman’s body as a sexual object, I still could get excited for that. You know what? I’d even be happy if the credits of the movie had the whole cast dancing to a contemporary pop hit.
Whatever. I’m just going to sleep through the rest of it.
George Tomlin is a 34-year-old from Rochester, N.Y. who loves boobs and likes movies.
Image by lovemaegan.