Wimbledon: The Cinematic Experience!

The other day, because I'm unemployed and have every movie channel available, I watched the Major Motion Picture Wimbledon.

If it was up to me, I wouldn't have watched it, but my vagina had the remote.

Anyway, there were two things that struck me as so awesome, that I had to remark on them. The first is that, during the end credits, the first title card of any sort to come on the screen is a dedication to a guy who had obviously died. Now, if you were a member of the dead guy's family, would you be sort of pissed that such a shitty-ass movie was dedicated to him? Do you think it would be rude to ask them to not dedicate it to him? I know that if the last piece of work I ever did was on the movie Wimbledon, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, or Kate & Leopold, I would haunt the motherfuckers who dedicated that shit to me. In fact, as a hugely ironic twist, if I do happen to die (probably from fatal anal bleeding brought on by my penchant for doing naked jumping jacks over traffic cones on a Slip N Slide covered in vegetable oil), I would hope that somebody would try to dedicate the shittiest movie ever to me.

The thing that bothered me most, but also made me laugh out loud hysterically, was one of those goddamn stereotypical, cliche moments from romantic comedies. The man and the woman are arguing over something that, in the long run, doesn't really matter. It's easiest to demonstrate it with fake dialogue:

Woman: I can't believe you did that. Who on earth would do something like that?

Man: I would. That's who. It's not like you even...

Woman: Well, that's just great. Why would you do something like that?

Man: I don't know. Maybe it's because I love you or because I hate the way that Indian people smell.

Woman (caught offguard): What did you say?

Man: I said that I hate the way that Indian people smell.

Woman: No. Before that.

Man: I love you?

Woman: I love you, too.

They kiss and I ruin yet another TV by flipping it on its back and shitting on the screen.

If you're not somebody who finds this kind of thing absolutely hilarious, then you're probably the same somebody who bought Sweet Home Alabama the day it came out on DVD. If this is the case, then you're somebody who really needs to up your daily regimen of cyanide.

Interesting thought of the day:
Every time a little girl is molested, Heaven gains a stripper.