So I went to this movie the other night to expand my mind. I was at the shop when this lil hottie boom-bottie shows up and peruses our used dvd and vhs section. She’s looking for movies from some guy called Lars von Trier and all we had was a flick called Antichrist. I’ve never seen the film but I can totally get down with a girl who likes her some demonic horror movies. The Exorcist is one of my favorite go-to halloween jams. So this cutie is going on and on about Melancholia, this new movie by Von Trier, and how this planet is about to hit the earth and how Kirsten Dunst is in her birthday suit showing off her “classical form”. So I’m sold and this girl says she wants to go out and see this movie AND pay for my ticket. And I get some Armageddon destructo shit with Kirsten “Mary Jane” Dunst’s tig-ole-bitties to top it off. Score!!!
Yeah, Not so much. A character in the film said, “With science and an event of this magnitude, you have to account for a margin of error”. I’m pretty sure my boner clouded my vision, but there we’re no Armageddon sized extinction level events or Bruce Willis yelling “Yippie Kay Ah Motherfucker” or anything. Just Dunst’s pair of puppies and Jack Bauer not acting like Jack Bauer and opting out. I obviously don’t know Jack cause my Jack would have snapped that planets neck and pee’d down its throat. A handful of Xanax and Eszopiclone a party makes, but the movie was putting me to sleep before I could remember where my edibles where. I get it. When the end is rocketing toward us at 60 thousand miles an hour and everyones bio-chemistry is out of whack turning them into a mood-swingy fucktard, my last moments won’t be listening to Beethoven’s 9th sipping wine or strumming Kumbaya under an impromptu hippy tent. It would be rolling up a phat spliggie followed by a rotund Jeffery and riding out to Tupac till that planet gets close enough for me to power-punch that bitch back to where-ever that overgrown asteroid came from. Yippie-kay-ay Motherfucker!!!