I’m watching Sweet Home Alabama, and even when I saw it in the theater, when he takes her into Tiffany and tells her to “pick one” engagement ring, I got anxious. That’s too many choices, I’ll be here for 14 hours. YOU pick one. I’m-a go get a pretzel.
(And by “YOU pick one,” I mean pick one at Kohl’s and use the rest of the money to take us to Italy.)
(OK, fine, not really Kohl’s — I’m not THAT bad. But he’d know which friends to call.)
“…The movie was described to me as ‘Mark Wahlberg fingers Reese Witherspoon on a roller coaster and then he murders her dog…'”
“And like, I basically could not stop thinking this family is going to be FUCKED forever. Her little brother had to run over a guy to get keys off another dead guy to get a walkie talkie to call the cops! That’s a lot when you’re 10!”
“That ten year old had a DAY”
BWAH HA HA.
And yes, in hindsight, putting a guy’s hand up my skirt on a roller coaster does not seem smart, not least because, yes, “there is NO WAY Mark’s fingernails aren’t busted as fuck.” But hearing that Bush song totally still makes me wanna come on the Kingda Ka.
I’m not ashamed to say I went to Amazon to buy this movie after I read this, so I could watch it as a grownup, but it’s $10, and fuck THAT. How YOU doin’, Netflix?
P.S. “…And THAT’S WHY you don’t change the clock in dad’s office so you can stay out late getting fingered, honey. The moral really should be never get fingered on a roller coaster, though. That’s a terrible idea.”
“Do Not Get Fingered At The Six Flags.”
“The motto of the 90s.”