Movie Weekend

I’m on public record (if you consider this blog “public” even though more people touch Trump’s bunghole than read this blog consistently) as saying that I don’t like movie reviews.  Don’t expect me to go into grand detail of the cinematography or acting of any movie in some ego-boosting attempt to sound knowledgeable about the medium of film.  The closest I’ll get is telling a friend, “I liked it.  Give it a try.”  Which is the same level of review that I often give a dirty sexual act or little-known greasy burger joint.

However, I will happily share any perspectives I have gained from watching movies.  For instance, my in-laws like talking through the previews and credits much more than is comfortable for me.  They’ll even share a snippet or two during the movie, which is a big no-no in my mind.  Sitting in the middle of a long row of in-laws, I got to hear quiet whispers on either side randomly throughout Captain America:  Civil War.  Now I have a need to go see the movie again, alone, because I can’t really recall if I enjoyed the movie or not.  Too busy replaying the chatty chat chat around me.

Funny thing… none of them seem to realize they chat.
“We didn’t talk that much.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Pass this popcorn down.”

Anyways, that was last weekend’s movie adventure.  This weekend I watched three movies and thought I’d share some revelations and insights I gained from each experience.  Plus, I liked the movies.  You might want to give one a try.

Friday the 13th – Keanu

It’s fun having an entire theater to yourself.  I wasn’t surprised that no one else was there; it was a 2:30 in the afternoon showing of a poorly reviewed comedy.  I took full advantage and stretched my legs through the armrests in front of me, unbuttoned my jeans, and laughed with wild abandon.  The only downside of being alone in a theater is how loud the teenage usher sounds stomping through the emptiness to check the exit door.  Kinda wanted to tell him that I was forty and not interested in sneaking my friends into a movie, but it was his job so I just let him do it.  Really though, why couldn’t he walk behind my field of view the second time when he saw no one else was there?

Kittens are cute.  But they grow into cats.  So I’m good with the one cat I have.

If I was younger, I would have been dumb enough to see if I could run up a wall and do a back flip.  Now I know better.  Shooting fireworks off my roof seems doable though.

Ah, George Michael.  So easy to forget about your music until movies remind me.  You are a stone-cold gangsta (I refuse to use the actual word the movie used…  due to my ethnicity).

Saturday the 14th – Deadpool

Yes, I bought it on DVD.  No I didn’t buy the “unrated” version.  I hate “unrated” versions.  I also hate bonus features like “gag reels” and “deleted scenes.”  An unrated version would be like me re-releasing a blog post, just with a fuck or bitch thrown in every other sentence… maybe a nude picture of my wife, girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, neighbor next door, or myself thrown in for good measure (Hi Denise, Cheri, Aurora, sexy MILF, and Me!).  It just adds unnecessary smut.  Now I’m all for smut, but not unnecessary smut.

Gag reels and deleted scenes are the same as posting a rough draft of my blog posts.  Why would anyone want to see the awful shit that I muddled through before massaging it into the passable shit you’re reading now?  Take the finished product, enjoy it, and ignore the hours of wasted time and effort that fell on the editing floor.

This is another way I differ from my in-laws.  Most of them love that crap.

I’m also more than willing to talk when watching a DVD at home.  It may seem hypocritical given my previous stance on theater chatter, but it’s not.  I’m home with a cat and a wife.  The only people I can annoy with commentary on the movie are a cat and a wife, not 75 other people who shelled out $12 to see a new movie.  Most of my chatter is just a repeat of an extremely funny line, to help me remember it so I can use it in everyday conversation.  So, not a hypocrite.

Funniest scene (spoiler alert) is still when they aren’t fucking and say, “Happy Lent.”  Makes the small Catholic influence in my brain giggle every time.

Saturday the 14th – Sleeping with Other People

It’s rare that I’m pleasantly surprised by the lack of nudity in a film.  Usually, I’m begging for some tits and ass.  I thought with the premise of this film that we’d see a lot of those, but we didn’t and it didn’t bug me.  Actually made the movie better than I expected.  Yes, there were sex scenes, and yea a couple of nice boobs, but all within the context of the story.  That’s a very hard balance to keep.

Okay, that sounded a little too much like a review.  Sorry.  How about…

My wife made little gyrations with her hips every time Alison Brie was half-naked or getting dirty DJ’d by a guy.  Shouldn’t be surprised… wife had a crush on her in the show “Community” too.  But we didn’t have sex right after the movie.

We did it Sunday morning.  More fun… lasts longer… can’t wait to get to Nebraska and wake up someone else’s who-ha… what was I talking about again?

Hated the ending of the movie.  Why does Hollywood keep ruining good stories by giving happy endings?  It’s like Hollywood movies are just one big illegal Thai massage parlor.  Although watching Adam Scott get punched was a little funny.  (Spoiler alert?)

The music ruined almost any scene where it was present.  I’m channeling my inner Simpsons comic-book geek, “Worst music ever!”  But it made me consider what music I’d want playing during my sexual escapades.  Scottish bagpipers doing a rendition of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me?”  Barbershop quartet singing Guns N’ Roses’s “Welcome to the Jungle?”  To be honest, my personal sex soundtrack would probably be the music and sound effects of Super Mario Brothers.

And my orgasm would be the sound effect of losing a life.

To conclude this unrated gag-reel of a blog:
Keanu and Deadpool both reference George Michael (Wham!)
Keanu and Sleeping with Other People both reference drug use.
So I obviously want to take some ecstasy while listening to “The Edge of Heaven.”

Aren’t you glad I don’t write movie reviews?


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