Thursday, 3 February 2011

When did your name change from a noun into a charm?

Anyone seen "How do you know" the new Paul Rudd film? I did last Sunday night. Hungover and grotesque, feeling like a middle of the road rom com would be the only thing that would pull me through the grimy dullness, I decided to take the plunge and attend a slushy romantic film all on my lonesome. Sure enough the only other people there were new couples and fat, lonesome nerds who also loved Paul Rudd. It made me feel better, like I wasn't kook. The cinema is free from judgement and I find it immensely relaxing; a dark room where you can fullfil your darkest desires by watching a rom com by yourself. In watching this Paul Rudd film I finally understood why they chose to name another of his films "I love you, man." I goddamn love him, man.

I sat there soothing my dry, hungover mouth with ice cold fanta. Drinking 8.2% cider the night before had annihilated my brain and I had puked, been sick as a dog; my mind felt like a clogged gutter in Autumn, full of stinkin' brown slime. At first I couldn't get my head around what was actually happening in "How do you know". Nothing had made sense all day so how was I to understand the purest and simplest thing of them all - trashy american love [starring Paul Rudd]. The title of the movie reassured me that there was no simple answer to this fuckin' shit rom com.

It was only after 2/3 f my fanta that everything started to fall into place. That bitch [Reese Whitherspoon] loved that bitch [Paul Rudd]. Owen Wilson was there as just humorous filler, like a nervous fart in an exam; funny but distracting. Jack Nicholson shouted at Paul Rudd for a while, then Paul and Reese got on a bus, destination: Forever Love.

I left the cinema on that sub zero evening feeling like true love might exsist somewhere in this cruel world and that it wasn't just a construct of a multimillion dollar film industry made to pacify suckers for Paul Rudd. Never the less: I love you, man.

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