TOO MUCH PENIS!!! TOO MUCH PENIS!!

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A Giant Wave of Vagina

It’s time once again for Moog’s Movie Reviews!!

Where I'd give a movie "Thumbs Up"...

...but I'd have to get them out of my ass first.

And no one wants that.

Today I’m reviewing:

Sex and the City: The Movie

Yeah. Right.

Listen folks….

…the only way I’d go see that f*cking movie is if one of the following things happened:

1) I spontaneously grew a uterus

2) I started f*cking men for fun

3) My wife made me go

4) Sarah Jessica Parker winds up somehow dismembered in it by an evil John Malkovich


The only chance of any of the above happening was #3…

…but, luckily for me, my wife is one of three women in the 48 contiguous states that make up America who HASN’T watched that show.

However, I DID go to see “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” (review coming up).

Unfortunately, we saw “Sarah Marshall” on the very same weekend that “Sex and the City” opened.


I say “unfortunately,” because I happened to be heading back into the theater with a bag of popcorn when one of the “Sex” movies suddenly let out.

*rumble*

Me: “…what the…?”

*RUMBLE RUMBLE*

Me: “Oh. My. GOD!!!!”

It was like a giant wave of vaginas suddenly poured out into the lobby of the theater.


Hundreds…NO…NO…THOUSANDS of estrogen-laden HBO-addicted MILF’s came funneling out of the movie…

…and the wave…

…five feet tall and a mile deep…

…was headed straight towards me.

Me (to the usher): “Tell my wife and kids that I love them!”

Usher: “..duhhhh…”

(I mean, come on…he takes tickets for a f*cking living)


And then…I saw him…

One sad, lost, lone man…

...in the middle of it all.

As the wave rushed past…our eyes met for the briefest of moments:

“Help me,” he mouthed to me, silently.

But I was alone and armed only with a six dollar bag of popcorn…

(seriously…six f*cking dollars for popcorn?!?!?)

….and could do nothing else except watch him get washed away amidst the chattering hoard.


I caught a quick glimpse, though, and realized…

…he was holding his girlfriend’s hand.

Stupid bastard.

He fell victim to #3.

Had he actually been f*cking men for fun (see #2, above), he might have been able to get away with going to a dance club or something instead of looking at Sarah Jessica Parker for two hours.

Ugh.

Seriously…they should employ that method with the prisoners at Guantanamo.

Soldier (holding up picture of SJP): “YOU LIKE THAT ACHMED?!? I’LL MAKE YOU F*CK THAT SH*T IF YOU DON’T TALK!!”

Terrorist: “NOOO!! I’ll talk…I’ll talk!! We’re all hiding out in the basement of the Taco Bell in Afghanistan…on the corner of Osama and Fifth!! PLEASE…DON’T MAKE ME BANG THE DONKEY FACE!!.”

Nice.


Anyway…you want a review of this f*cking movie, go somewhere else.

I’ll be trying to wipe all this estrogen off of me from the tsunami I experienced.

Moog out.


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Come swing by and see me at my other blog, Mental Poo.
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