Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Friday, December 04, 2009

New Moon

My favourite game at the moment is going on YouTube and finding every vblog of podgy girls threatening to cut themselves if 'New Moon' is no good. Though I doubt very much my idea and their idea of a good film are even in the same hemisphere. I like sly comedy, good set-pieces and camp heroines, they seem to like not being able to hear the stilted dialogue over the sounds of hymens being twanged in the direction of the screen.

I was told I should go to look at the men. Well yes, one of them is alright, but look at the picture above. I've seen far too many adverts like that for off-Leicester Square flamenco troops to make me comfortable. And my tastes are much more grown-up than those hairless tykes. I like a bit of hair on a man, thank you - something I think comes from when I was first touching men back in my youth, I used to have nylon bedsheets (best not to think about it, just admire how far I've come) and the repetitive movement used to cause such static build up that you could cause electricity to arc all the way over to my Barbie wendy house. And a bit of fur on nylon gives you purchase: one deft shunt on a hairless boy would cause them to skid under the pillows, and sometimes up to the shoulders in the cheap plasterboard behind the bed. It was no wonder I lost the deposit on that house. That and the scale model of Judith Chalmers we'd made out of old leather handbags and installed in the lounge with No More Nails.

Back to New Moon (cup). You go to a Michael Bay film, you expect the audience to be made of men in their 30s with brains in their teens. You go see a 'Sex And The City' movie, you can bet the crowd is screeching harpies in fascinators, tipsy on Cosmo's and waiting for that one cock shot. I feel the Twilight saga to be the worst, and you'll be get your soda stuck to the ground from the combination of panty-pudding and haagen dazs from the tubby girl next to me. She'll be wearing the oversized ‘I’m Just A Bella Waiting For Her Edward’ tshirt, frotting herself silly at the same time as cutting herself. And that doesn't make for an attractive viewing experience.

That, and the story this time is one girl's choice between bestiality and necrophilia. Fancy.


Stephen said...

lmao, quite frankly I don't get this Twilight nonsense either, but the imagery in this post had me almost peeing myself with laughter...oh joy!

CyberPete said...


Now please watch 2012 and blog about it!

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