I don’t give a shit movie reviews

Transformers 2: Recap. for anyone who thinks it rocked…5 primes huddling like gay faggots and turning into a mountain.

Terminator Salvation: I once pooped while dehydrated and without enough fiber and swore I was shitting a cactus made of sandpaper.  That was better than T:S.

District 9: space roaches have a giant anti-gravity spaceship and a few cool spaceguns only they can operate, but they’d rather live in a slum, buying cat food from Nigerians and knocking junk out of each other’s claws.

G.I. Joe: Storm Shadow the Japanese ninja is played by a Korean. G.I.Joe lives under the pyramids. Half the team are unlikely foreign Blacks plus a fucking Muslim. Mandatory, totally unnecessary, insulting interracial hookup in this movie  is jive-asshole Marlon “Ripcord” Wayans pursuing a vapid, flat-butted White girl “genius” (Scarlett) who falls for him anyway, proving she’s an idiot. A lot of CGI and nonsense. Rip-off of Firefox. Cobra Commander sounds like Darth Vader. TUH-HANE!

Watchmen: All anyone remembers is that glowing blue guy’s penis. I liked Rorschach. Everyone does.

Wanted: Finally saw it. Too much slow motion. The White guy who almost got eaten by Idi Amin is in it. Angelina Jolie is hot but has ugly hands. Bullets curve around things. Morgan Freeman is Black. The looms were the most interesting things.

Date Movie: Alyson Hannigan, aka Flutepussy, is cute in one scene and ugly the next. A Black Midget. Crunk scene was the only real laugh.

Animated Wonder Woman movie: Tits or GTFO. Peppy. Amazon MILFS. Nothing to jack off to.

Hope you enjoyed this.  If not, it’s too late.

I’M WOLVERINE!

Got to the theater to see Wolverine! The Motion Picture 10 minutes late and was shocked to find the movie half over. What, no COMMERCIALS (the nerve of those advertisers) followed by three coming attractions for diarrhea-inducing romantic dramedies?

Walking up to the window to buy the ticket and on through to the lobby with the smell of fake butter coating everything I couldn’t stop thinking of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog at Comic-Con shouting, “I’m Wolverine! I’m Wolverine! I’m Wolverine!”

I couldn’t feel any more like a failure if I was wearing black socks with sandals and wielding a metal detector.

I entered the theater when Wolverine was in the tank (last seen in X2) about to be injected with cockamamium or whatever the hell. Suspense, for me, was nil. Of course during The Procedure the Bladed One’s heart stops. The military milf reading Wolverine’s vitals says with alarm, “Blood pressure, 280 over 160!” which is my normal blood psi., especially eating movie popcorn floating in butter.

Once Wolverine escaped (of course) the movie got a little more interesting. Were it not for Hugh Jackman’s considerable acting, this movie would’ve been like sticking your hand between the plates of a hot George Foreman grill. Did I say hand? I meant dick.

There was some kickass fighting (not enough) but being an old(er) fuck, I was thrown out of suspended disbelief by small inconsistencies rather than gaping plot holes. Example: the movie’s supposed to take place in the mid-70s and the sinister secret government agents were driving Humvees instead of Jeeps. Humvees didn’t go into service until the late 80s.

“Yeah, but they musta had the prototypes, being top secret and all!”

Shut up, nerd.

Also, if there was a raucous battle in an alley on Bourbon Street that shattered fire escapes and blew up hundreds of stacked boxes, wouldn’t there be at least a few dozen extras running to find the source of the rumpus?

And this Gambit fellow that’s all the rage, would you seriously sit down to play cards with a guy who could make the whole fucking deck float perfectly as if he had the mutant power of CGI?

I paid 4 bucks to see Wolvy and that was about right. I was more excited watching 16-year-old White girls with their bubble buttocks in shorty-shorts in the butter lobby. But then, I’m a failure. I have a right.