Back under your bridge

Dear troll,
While I thank you for your opinion, which has led to a reconsideration of my own (and the resulting deletion of a post or two), I must ask you to desist and find something worthwhile to do with your time.

Such as reading. I’ve been powering through, and in the last couple of weeks finished Glue and Porno by Irvine Welsh (best known for Trainspotting, which Porno is the sequel to), Mansfield Park by Jane Austen and am now working on Freud’s On Sexuality, which is a collection of some of his essays & letters on sexuality (clearly).

I’m actually enjoying Freud, although today I got up to the castration complex, which has soured my opinion somewhat. Poor man, thinking that a penis is something to be missed, instead of an extraneous organ, developed to make up for missing a second X chromosome.

But, as I was explaining (loudly, drunkenly, at 5am) on the weekend, while I may have a general disdain for men, and find a lot of people terribly annoying or enraging, at the base of it all I still love them because everyone person is a miracle & contains so much potential. We are the children of the stars.

I will never get that drunk again

I went to see The Hangover a couple of weeks ago, and left the cinema full of rage. I understand that this is supposed to be a “bloke’s film” and it celebrates men and their crazy, crazy shennanigans (because I personally have never woken up with an appalling hangover and only vague recollections of my adventures the night before), but the fact is that it’s complete crap. I’ve got Google up in another tab right now, trying to comprehend how so many people could like it (oh yeah, possibly the fact that the majority of reviewers are male?).

According to the man responsible for this steaming pile, “there’s a real sweetness” to the movie. Maybe, if you’re a misogynistic, immature pleb who willingly accepts the values of society at large instead of developing their own. Personally, I couldn’t get past the fact that the entire movie’s premise is based on one of the four main characters drugging the group with GHB (the date rape drug). Sure, he thought it was ecstasy, and was clearly perfectly within his right to drug his friends without their knowledge or consent. If guys are doing this shit to each other, it’s no wonder they’re doing it to women. Only, haha, most women don’t have a hilarious adventure when they get slipped GHB, they get raped.

Additionally, there were exactly four female characters (excluding, of course, the numerous tit-flashing strippers and whores which we know are representative of women as a whole and don’t need lines or even clothes because, hey, a woman’s value is in her appearance alone). They were as follows:
x Heather Graham, who is a single mother whore/stripper who marries one of the main characters in a spur-of-the-moment Vegas wedding.
x The bride-to-be, who is portrayed as vain, controlling and generally a typical Bridezilla.
x The girlfriend of the man who marries Heather Graham, who is abusive, cruel and generally a bitch (it’s alright though, after her boyfriend cheats on her and marries another woman, he comes to his senses and breaks up with her in a spectacularly crushing manner… at the wedding)
x The fat black lady cop.

The best way to describe this movie is sexist and racist with a handful of well-written lines. The fact that it is being lauded as brilliant further proves my pre-existing theory that most people are idiots.

Oh, and, if you’re worried that this amazing movie will fade from peoples’ minds too soon, you have the sequel to look forward to.

Top three reasons I like being home alone

1. Pants are optional, as they should always be.
2. I can pee with the door open (and I love it)
3. No-one is around to listen in on my private and highly sensitive and top secret conversations with the cat.

Brought to you by an attempt to repair my fractured blogging bone.