Last night I went to see Clerks II. [No major spoilers ahead.] [website, myspace with some trailers not G-rated]
I laughed throughout the entire thing. It was low on plot, but high on lumbering, twisting banter, as anticipated.
I cheered when Jason Lee appeared in his finest Earlesque repose.
I was a little grossed out with Jason Mewes' moon, although all the other things in (technically) poor taste wasn't so bad.
It was funny to see Ben Affleck slumming it again.
I have a little crush on goobery Trevor Fehrman. He was born after I graduated HS; I could be his m.... don't go there.
For the record, Silent Bob did not remain silent, plus he had his wife and kid along in it.
I need to see it again. The nuances were many and I wonder what I missed laughing so hard.
Next time, I shouldn't watch it with two mini bottles of Absolut Citron in my movie Sprite.
I was just reading at Kevin Smith's blog. Go to the Photos of My Life (whatever it's called, at the top) to see a couple Jason Lee pics for you fellow fans. On one, Kevin Smith even commented on Jason's million dollar smile. Ahhhhh.
On a recent post and unrelated to anything in my post here but on a subject dear to my heart, he discussed his business model in reaction to a critical film journalist:
Let me put it another way: I was not gifted with a big dick and I grew up fat (and grew to be even fatter). Because of these shortcomings, I learned to eat pussy really well. That way, ultimately, I can provide a satisfying enough sexual experience where whatever chick was feeling charitable enough to get horizontal with me might reason “He did make me cum once, so I’ll give him another shot,” somewhere down the road. I took that logic into filmmaking, too: my stuff isn’t wildly popular in the mainstream, but if I make up for the lack of audience by spending less, ultimately, I can turn someone a profit.
Sweet Jesus, just how many guys feel this way? If a guy tells me he likes to eat pussy, that's a neon sign over his head saying, "BROKE DICK! BROKE DICK!" It is (needed or not in perception) compensation, at least, and I appreciate the intent and the effort, well, P's in particular. He was my only success in that regard. (Glen touted his abilities, but we didn't go there. Heck, I was too happy to have a dick in my hand, among other places.)
Guys are too paranoid and perhaps they don't realize it is standard talk, a red flag, but then I guess their paranoia comes (ha) with an added bonus for us.
I EAT PUSSY (even spray painted on a brick wall like in the flick) screams, "There's something wrong with my dick (too small [but I like 'em not large] or broken somehow: injury, premie, no blood) and I compensate by eating pussy."
That I can recall, there's only one substantially dicked guy I've dated who talked about munching as a hobby. One. And we never slept together, so I didn't find out any of his skills.
Guys, bragging "I eat pussy" ultimately becomes a warning. There has to be a better way.