May 27th, 2007

Ok, so here’s the break down of the movie. There is a mom, three sisters (the one who needs help with men, the shrink who analyzes and explains every little detail and hidden motive of the characters, and the completely useless one). So apparently the one with man problems makes cakes for weddings. So they all hang out at weddings or something and then find out that Drama bitch’s boyfriend is cheating on her just like all the others. So to make her feel better her family takes her out for a massage. Then after that bitch Diane Keaton (who plays the mom) ruins a thong scene, her daughter runs away crying and swearing off men. After that they felt bad and the mom goes on this dating website for her daughter. The mom interviews all these people who suck when along comes “Bad boy guitar guy with a kid at home”. Mom says go away you suck but he swipes one of the business cards anyways and tracks down that sad drama bitch. Than rich successful Architect guy comes in, says he loves the poke-a-dot dress she was wearing and charms the mom so he gets a card. Later on the mom learns the daughter is going out with both of them just because she can’t choose even though Architect guy is a complete asshole. But she doesn’t let that get in her way when she starts sleeping with both of them. Out of no where Diane Keaton asks what do an orgasm feels like because she had never had one. Than I realized:
“Ah crap… she’s going to have a sex scene”
Which surly enough she dose (three of them…) with the guitar guy’s dad who lives with him and his son. Then everyone finds out what assholes they all are and starts hating each other. Drama bitch gets mad at her mom for picking out a man for her on the internet. Guitar guy gets all mad because she slept with Architect guy and although Architect guy isn’t mad about it he’s an asshole because she can’t make pastries around him. Luckily there’s this huge happy ending because of the magic of bake goods…or something like that. Guitar guy apologizes:
“I’m so sorry for being so hard on you for cheating on me…I love you and how you talk to much about stuff that has nothing to do with what we’re talking about and how your mom and my dad told me to forgive you and how I’m the asshole for caring about you cheating. Will you marry me?”
Then all the old people in her cooking class start making out even the gay ones…which was hilarious to all bitches in the audience. Their laughs sickened me. How they harmonized such an annoying noise was beyond me…like crows they were. Anyways then Guitar guy’s dad and the mom get married (of course she’s having sex at the wedding) and everyone’s happy again accept Architect guy and that side character who wants to kill himself. Dian Keaton has sex and another cake falls over because of how funny that is, the end.

I unclenched my fists with relief and turned a cold eye to my mother. She was smiling well a ware of what she had done, what she had put us all through! But she didn’t care.
“We’re leaving…” I demanded as calmly as I could.
My mom cackled as she normally dose and we were on our way out.
“That movie sucked…and you knew it would” I accused.
“James, I had no idea it would be such a chick flick” claimed mom.
“I did!” Beth said overly enthused.
“SHUT UP BITCH” yelled my mom and me simultaneously.
Then Beth cried and fell on the floor to continue as we walked away.
“She’s not driving with us” said Pop-pop who was about done with this crap today.
“No way, I get to ride with dad. I’m not sitting in the same car as her!” I said pointing to my mother.
“Why did you hate it James? The main character was so much like you in the respects that you both ramble and have issues with the opposite sex” Questioned my grandma.
“Did you just actually compare me to someone in that movie? No way, listen to me! First, I don’t ramble, I speak of things that matter it’s just that I know of so much that matters that it comes off as rambling. Second, my issues are way different than her’s. She’s a slut whose unaware she’s a slut who’s also attracted to other sluts, where as I have the sexual motivation of a panda…do you see how we’re really complete opposites?” I ranted (which is something totally different).
“Well you both talk a lot…or a least more than you should.” Grammy replied.
“I really thought you would like peef…hehehehWAHAHHAHAHAHA AH HA hA!...it” Mom said trying to hold a straight face.
We made it to the cars and drove off. I sat there just bitching about the movie until I could say no more. I even threatened to write a blog about it (which I did). Finally it went silent for awhile. Then dad spoke:
“Son, your grand mother was hot.”
“What, Grammy?” I said confused.
“No, I’m talking about my mother.” He corrected.
“Ok, why are you talking about grandma?” I asked even though I didn’t want the answer.
“To make a point, son. Now your grandma was so beautiful that she could have been a show girl” he continued without restraint “Sometimes I wish I was adopted just so I…”
“Dad! Dad! Were is this going?”
“Son, don’t interrupt.” He barked.
“How about you just get to the point.” I demanded.
“Fine, asshole, my point is just because I think something is hot like that there are still people banging Anne even though she’s dead and they are, doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.” He said.
“Not the whole dead Anna Nichole Smith thing?” I asked.
“Yes son, it’s the whole dead Anna Nichole Smith thing” he repeated. “If dead Anna Smith or your grandma were to walk up to me and ask me if I wanted some I’d be all like “No thank you”, do you understand were I’m coming from?”
“Sure Dad.” I agreed hoping it would bring back the silence, which it did for awhile until:
“Hey son, dead Anna Nichol Smith or your grandma?” he asked.
“Oh not this shit again.”
I wept a little, but then saw the house.
“Oh darn Dad it looks like we’re home and you have to stop asking me those kind of questions. After all you know how mom gets when you talk.” I said with relief.
“Yah you’re right, maybe later…if I remember” Replied dad.
I tripped out the car went inside and got on the computer. Then I just started writing this...THE END