Thursday, November 27, 2008

Novocaine (2001)

Novocaine (2001)

Well, I’m sure any red-blooded American male would agree—that any movie with Helena Bonham Carter getting nude is a good thing.

Especially on Thanksgiving—Turkey Day.

When most men have to put up with the usual No Exit holiday blues—being around their scummy wrinkly mother-in-laws & other crummy relatives.

Your snarky wrinkly ratty mother-in-law…

There’s probably nothing worse that a man has to do—than spend a whole day with his no-good slimy sourpuss old cunt wrinkly mother-in-law. Sitting there—at the clean white pseudo-gala dinner table. Gazing at the old slutty wreck—that your so-so wife will soon end up becoming.

Nothing’s more disgusting—than spending a long drawn-out mind-fuck day that way. Staring at the scrawny Turkey Neck—of your typical putrid Anne Ramsey "Throw Mama From the Train” old bag Witch. Her slithering wrinkled ugly jowls—her pale yellowing gizzard skin. The beady vulture eyes—that can never be pleased…

Everyman knows it’s the truth.

Waking up in the morning—with somebody you don’t love any more. Made even worse— during a long excruciating fucking Thanksgiving Day. Having to be around—the blue-rinse Medusa. The Creature from the Black Lagoon—who gave birth to your lovely wife. The woman—that sleeps with you… Sleeps—but no longer fucks or loves you...

Bring on the Novocaine—Turkey Day is here!!!

Everyman—a Dr. Frank Sangster. Everyman a straight-laced dentist—drilling his wife everyday. Until one day—love isn’t there anymore. Who because of one innocent mistake—finding yourself married to a Shrew. Gradually having your once tidy, prosperous life—transformed over time. Into the usual comic quagmire—of loveless sex, boring married life and the inexplicable desire to murder your wife & shitty in-laws.

Especially on Thanksgiving Day.

Just look at her—the old fucking old cunt gloating at you. Reading your disgusted dirty mind. She knows why you put “Novocaine” on the big family Flatscreen—replaying the movie loud again & again. There in the dumpy living room—especially the gauche lurid tit-scenes.

Over & over again—smirking at her.

Yes, your wrinkly mother-in-law—she knows how much you despise her. As you turn it up—the rumbling stereophonic volume. Doing the replay—with the changer. Just to insult her—Helena Bonham Carter’s lovely big-nippled obscenely sexy enormous tits. Protruding in 3-D—out of the wall…

She knows—it’s too late. You can’t get rid of her—you can’t get a divorce. There’s the two brats in college—the mortgage. The 401K—that’s now a 101K. The pink slip in the mail—the gas-hog SUV in the driveway. Nobody wants a skanky Esplanade anymore—it’s just a piece of shit.

Throw her off the train? How about off the freeway bridge? You know the one—the LA Expressway bridge. The one on TV—with OJ & his cavalcade of red-light siren-screaming police cruisers racing by. Making a joke of Murder USA—and getting away with it.

Your mother-in-law knows—you’re too chicken-shit for that. You don’t have the guts—to pull off an OJ stunt. She knows you’re stuck—a suburban slime-ball No Exit nightmare man. You hate her—she hates you.

Your lovely wife in the kitchen—mashing the fucking potatoes. Stuffing the bird—with cheap sodium glutamate glutinous greasy shit. The bloody-red cranberry sauce—the putrid TV dinner pumpkin pie. What a brilliantly offbeat, bitingly comedic film!

No wonder you need Novocaine!!!

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