Star Speaks Her Mind

Okay, time for a rant. Over the weekend I had the great misfortune of being dragged to "Underworld 3: Rise of the Lycans" with my cousin. She is a fan of any film that I feel to be complete and utter garbage. She is the demographic for which films like "National Treasure" and "Norbit" are made. I wanted to see "The Wrestler" or "Slumdog Millionaire" (you know how my soul sister & I love those gorgeous Indian men...) or maybe even "Revolutionary Road," but being as I play the obedient boyfriend to all of my female friends, I got stuck watching the CGI werewolf/vampire flick. It wouldn't have been so painful if I wasn't seated in front of an eight year old girl who ran commentary during the entire film. Also, her two brothers next to her, ages ten and eleven, enjoyed kicking the back of our seats while chewing louder than a cheetah devouring a gazelle in the Serengeti. However, on the opposite side of the daughter were the individuals responsible for placing these monstrosities in my presence. Oh, and how could I forget the 2 year old boy who was suckling his mother's breast thru the entire second act. "Oh no she di'n't!!" Uh, yeah, she absolutely fuckin' did. But the silver lining to this charade was that the parents brought the kiddies to the 7:50pm showing of the R-rated and extremely violent film. Thus leaving plenty of time to tote the whole fam to an early gang rape and that weekend cock fight out in West Philly. And let's not forget the late night Klan meeting at quarter after eleven, followed by a quick jaunt across the river into North Camden to pick Daddy up some H and sell little Samantha into white slavery. Perhaps one day, she will look just like this little girl. It's good to dream, kids, but more often than not, that's all it is; a dream. Those fuckers are in for a miserable ride on the downward spiral into the eighth circle of Hell.


photo by the extraordinary Ms. Mary Ellen Mark