Indeed, I somehow got hog-tied into seeing "You Don't Mess With The Zohan" today with my 10 year old son and his friend. I will never be the same again. I have been ruined in such a fundamentally soul sucking way that the mere act of thinking requires an effort tantamount to cleaning an elephant's anus with a Q-Tip. Or maybe eating a full meal consiting of haggis and maggot infested baby poop. This was my first experience with an Adam Sandler movie and it will certainly be my last -- unless, of course, that is, I become the type that revels in real pain.
Do NOT see this movie. Do not take children to see it. Perhaps we should send it to Iran instead of weapons. Maybe George Bush should be forced to sit through it in some sort of homage to "Clockwork Orange" (oh how delicious these thoughts become).
If someone would like to explain to me what exactly the plot of this movie is, my son and I are desperate to know. Also, what is funny about having a fish in your ass, playing hacky-sack with a cat, catching a bullet in your nose, or a codpiece?
It sucked all the fun out of my day. I am drinking heavily now in order to regain some sense of my own humanity -- and it is going to take quite a few drinks. I offered my son a beer, but he had the good sense to kick me in the nuts and tell me I was being "inappropriate". This is the depths I have sunk to thanks to Adam Sandler.
I want him dead. If I wasn't depressed and drunk I would do it myself.
Another sign of the Apocalypse: The Trailer for Mike Myer's new movie, "The Love Guru". These bottom feeders were never funny on SNL -- why do they still have careers?
I think it is to punish me somehow.
I miss Carey Grant. He was my friend.
Tomorrow is Father's Day. I think that may mean a revisiting of Walt Whitman on this blog.
P.S. I just finished reading Michael Chabon's new novel, Gentlemen of the Road -- it cascaded over me like melted butter mixed with cinnamon. Read this and be beatific.
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