So much more to hate about “More to Love”

Fox’s More to Love is a train wreck featuring a fat guy looking for a “Rubenesque” wife.

Don’t know if they filmed this prior to the economy shitting the cot, but Luke (The Fatchelor?) is a ‘successful real estate investor’ who owns his own home (no small feat in Mexifornia) and at age 26 makes six figures. That alone should be enough to have the shallow whores of Santa Barbara spreading their fake-tanned legs, I don’t know why this guy wants to lose half his shit at such an early age.

Watching ‘humble’ Luke walk down the beach shirtless, I thought, ‘This fucker’s not really that fat: 330lbs on a 6’3 frame? Love handles, sure, but that’s it.’ He used to be some football behemoth, playing the position of Brick Wall, and the conspicuous absence of body hair meant we’re dealing with yet another fucking shaved dolphin. No, modest Luke’s not worried about extra flab, but body hair on a man in the 21st century? Not unless you’re Wolverine.

Poor Puke. I’ve never heard a reality show “actor” sound more scripted and wooden. “Real beauty is on the inside.” Fuck you.

The other half of this train wreck is the women and their not inconsiderable cabooses. They’re introduced to the traditional reality show colorfully lit mansion (likely owned by some porn king) via limo, but the editing makes it look like all 20 big-boned women are emerging from the same long black clown car.

If you’re a Simpsons fan you may recall the ep where Moe gets plastic surgery and becomes a soap star. Before his transformation he overhears a producer say she wants, “Mary Ann on Gilligan’s Island ugly, not Cornelius on Planet of the Apes ugly. TV-ugly, not…ugly-ugly”. Nineteen out of the 20 women weren’t fat-fat, they were “TV-fat” and gorgeous knockouts, to me and probably a lot of other dudes watching. I would be overjoyed to fuck the shit out of any one of them or all of them at the same time (I’m a hopeless romantic as well as insane).

When the broads meet Puke they are all in some kind of evening wear and gorgeous. About half of them have “sexy confidence” which may or may not be a lie. All of them, via embarassing confessionals, explain how they’ve never had boyfriends or been on dates. I wanted to feel sorry for them but I know too much. The reality is when The Gang is together or out at the club and the cunty thin bitches are being their usual impossible selves, the feral shithead men turn to (or on) the fatties to get suction. Sadly I’m sure every one of the 20 has sucked lots of crooked cock and done a whole lot more in a desperate scramble to get whatever the hell it is they want–“love” being the usual trope –but their pain seemed to run a lot deeper than that meaningless word.

During the hour (40 min. if you have the miracle of TIVO) Puke the Fatchelor is taking the “girls” off to the side one or two at a time and getting mouth kisses, which I found offensive. Kissing is an intimate act, handjobs would’ve been more apropos. The banter and confessionals of the women really hurt. Not a few of them kept crying and saying shit like, “This is my last chance!” Bitch, you’re fucking TWENTY-ONE and you met Puke not more than 20 minutes ago. Last chance? Enough.

Here’s the one Puke will probably pick. “Malissa” may or may not have the best tits in the bunch but she was the best at showing them off.

Terminator Salvation and Transformers 2

Both Terminator: Salvation and Transformers 2 are frozen shit Popsicles. If I had to watch one of them again I’d choke down Terminator only because it’s shorter. If I had to choose between watching either movie again or suicide this would be my last post.

T:S was rife with clichés, unexciting action and zero-dimensional characters no one can possibly give a shit about, with the exception of the guy who played Kyle Reese (and Chekhov in the new Star Trek).

A post-apocalyptic Terminator film would be a challenge to make by the best filmers, because as the story begins, humanity has lost, rendering the better “prequels” irrelevant (even T3–which really isn’t so bad–is a masterpiece compared to this travesty).

There’s no getting around the fact that Christian Bale is a spoiled ass. I have no numbers to back it up but it’s my opinion the yelling-at-some-lackey-on-set (turned into a brilliant techno song) struck a blow against the buzz. His portrayal of John Connor had me rooting for the machines.

Salvation’s plot isn’t worth regurgitating. The movie is a total loss, but what kills it above all else is the way Skynet is depicted. For a murderous artificial intelligence it’s way too sane and collected, to the point I was wondering why it ever viewed humans as a threat.

Given the “rules” of the post-nuke Terminator universe it would be easy as hell to win a war against humans, simply by waiting them out. For human numbers to grow they need food, water, infrastructure. What’s time to a machine? Why don’t the ‘robits’ simply do nothing for 50 years, let the humans grow soft, while the machines gather or build neutron bombs for radiation attacks? Burn all the forests and arable land, kill everything green. So much possibility, all unexplored.

T3 and Salvation are dumb movies, which is fine, except they’re not fun. Movie audiences know too much so it’s time to put the T-franchise to sleep for awhile.

Transformers 2 is a rainbow-colored turd. Everything bad you’ve heard about it is true. The effects are seamless, yet it’s vulgar, cheap, bombastic, aimed to evoke mass guffaws from the lowest common denominator of society.  Pro-tip:  just because the target market is 8-year-olds doesn’t mean the movie has to be shit.

At 2 hours, 30 minutes Tran 2 is impossibly long; longer still if you can’t stand Megan “Fred Flintstone Thumbs” Fox, a spoiled ass in her own right. Yeah, she’s “pretty”, so what?– a lot of porn whores are as hot or hotter. Had Fox not gotten her break, she could easily be choking on Sean Michael’s blacksnake like Avy Scott or any number of strumpets.

By now you’ve probably seen both of these cineturds. Like circumcision, they only have to be endured once and you’re done for life.