I used to be that girl who wanted to see every single chick flick known to...well, not man, since men run screaming from chick flicks like they're Prince or something (and really I don't understand why men hate Prince so much, because he's totally incredible, but in truth it is an apt analogy).
It's not that I don't love movies like How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days, Pretty Woman, Clueless, Bridget Jones's Diary, or any number of Sandra Bullock/Jennifer Aniston/Julia Roberts shoulda-been-a-B-rated-film brain candy on a rainy PMS'y day. I just don't love them as much as I used to. I find that watching unattainably attractive young women with dream jobs strutting around in their sexy apartments that only movie stars can afford snivel over asshats and douchewhistles who change for the leading lady in the end simultaneously endlessly appealing and perpetually frustrating. I think it's cute that guys who would be considered Creepstopher McStalkerpants in real life are just The Nice Guy Who Sees The Odd Girl For Who She Really Is on the silver screen. At the same time it makes me want write a diatribe about the scary lessons the media is teaching our daughters. But because I like to pretend to be funny on here, I will stick with that and ignore the whole Letting Your Daughter Watch Twilight Is Telling Her It's Okay To Give Up Everything For a Co-Dependent Relationship With A Controlling Stalker. (Except for that. Come on, I had to mention it at least once.)
When watching a chick flick with my husband, it is honestly usually accidental. We'll rent a movie that I have chosen, pop it in and lo and behold, it turns out to be a chick flick. Not just any chick flick; ohhhh nooo. A chick flick of epic chicky flicky proportions. You know...sappy dialogue...sappy monologue...lots of sad indie rock music by obscure artists, or usually just The Fray...a pretty girl with daddy issues...a bad boy with an inferiority complex...a douchenozzle friend or five...you get it.
I find I cannot enjoy this genre of film with my husband for the following reasons.
1. I seriously didn't know this was a chick flick, but I think he suspects me of trickery.
2. OK, so maybe I thought it was a little chicky flicky, but nowhere near this level of such. Still, I know he thinks I did this to him on purpose.
3. In an attempt to make up for this heinous transgression, I overcompensate by laughing at every terrible tired recycled "joke" and "gag" made in the film.
4. I also tend to point out actors and actresses to make it into a game of "Let's Spot Which Actors Will Be Considered Washed Up After This Train Wreck of a Film".
5. I pause to go to the restroom a lot.
6. Every time a romantic scene comes up I either hide my face in shame or make porno sounds to lighten the mood and let my husband know that it is OKAY TO HATE ON THIS FILM WITH ME.
7. At the end of the film we sit there for about five minutes of stunned silence. At the end of the silence I promise him we'll rent a movie where people get blown up next time, and would he like a blowjob in the meantime?
1. TWILIGHT (deal with it, it's a whole LOAD of chickflickery, and nothing more.)Of course I had to start with Twilight. No. I do not like it. But what I do like is renting the most recent installment on DVD and watching it with Husby, who pauses it and says really awful things about KStew's twitchiness while I make lewd remarks about all the accidental double entendres.
Basically a totally grungy pale intellectualista who probably had a propensity for wrist-cutting moves in with her dad and she is instantly popular because she is The New Girl. She of course is better than everyone so she finds them all endlessly boring except for The Vampires. She is probably hardcore crushing on all of them but is most especially fond of Edward, who is The Hot One. So begins a relationship rife with regular teenage drama where there is only imagined danger (except for when Bella's dad mockingly loads a shotgun). Lots of sniveling, whining, groveling, stalking, reckless driving, paraphrasing of Romeo and Juliet and every Jane Austen book ever. There's even a love triangle. But it's all really boring so I'll just stop here. If you like bad acting and crappy scripts to lawlz over, do what Husby and I do...rent them.
2. PRETTY WOMAN
3. GOOD LUCK CHUCKTotally a stealth chick flick. Seriously. You think it's about Dane Cook's character and it kind of is, but basically he's the chick in this film and he's just not that funny in it. And Jessica Alba is just kind of there. And there are penguins, which admittedly is a nice distraction. The use of the term crib midgets is introduced to my vocabulary. But all the awkward sex scenes and Jessica Alba losing her front teeth are way not necessary. Also did I mention not a lot of funny? Or really even a lot of plot. He is playing a total fruitcake stalker and she ends up playing into it in the end after all her admirable GET LOST BITCH attitude for the whole film. And her klutziness ain't working for me either.
Although, I did like their second date when they ate ice cream cones on the hood of his car and watched airplanes take off directly over them. I told Husby I wanted a date like that. He just rolled his eyes at me. Of course.
4. TITANIC (Sigh. Had to cover it.)
Although, I did like their second date when they ate ice cream cones on the hood of his car and watched airplanes take off directly over them. I told Husby I wanted a date like that. He just rolled his eyes at me. Of course.
4. TITANIC (Sigh. Had to cover it.)
I was twelve when this movie came out and my dad took my best friend from childhood and me to see it because we weren't old enough to go without an adult. Well, I was mean and called my dad gay for saying flowers were pretty (sorry Dad) and then I had major embarrassment about that whole sex scene. And then my dad had to get up and leave at the end because he started crying (sorry for blowing your cover Dad).
What the hell is with this sort-of Freaky Friday nonsense? OK, I get it, I like Razzles too. Who the hell doesn't? I can dance the Thriller. That's sweet. You go Jennifer Garner.
