I've never had an STD. I mean, they sound kind of awesome though, right? At least how you get them does.
Look, you're either a total slut, had sex with someone who's a total slut, or at least caught something randomly, of course, having sex. Technically, dirty sex at that. Sound like a win. It's like telling someone a story about something that happened at the gym. You get to say, Well, I was working out...and you don't necessarily sound like an asshole. But here? It's even better. So, like, after we banged...
That's great, you know? It's not like it permanently scars you by secretly following you around the rest of your life, threatening to kill you at any given second. Cause that's decidedly not great. Or awesome.
But what is awesome, especially days later, is the slow-burning greatness of It Follows. Horror movies are known for their cheap scares and supernatural villains, but David Robert Mitchell's film axes those ideas in the face. Instead, we're treated to something still terrifying, but in a nuanced, semi-realistic way. And arguably the best horror movie villain ever.
Set in a Detroit suburb, It Follows is a pretty simple story. After a jarring opening (think The Ring, expect less terrifying) we meet neighborhood hottie, Jay (a lovely Maika Monroe). Jay is out at the movies with her boyfriend, when things head south. Not that, perv, but her man sees someone that Jay can't. Yikes.
Bad as that is, they end up doing it in his car, and Jay wakes up, you guessed it, tied to a f--king wheelchair [insert Taylor Swift saying Oh no here]. Very quickly, this f--ker explains the rules and seems Jay will now have some sort of demon following her until she can pass it off to someone else. Well, f--k me, how can she get rid of this thing? I think you just answered your own question. Ohhhh.
I don't get it.
As slowly-paced as it is, It Follows never really lets up (I know that sounds stupid, but it works - trust me). And as intense as things get (that f--king beach scene!), nothing can match the simpulan ten minutes, where the shit is truly bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I actually re-watched the finale the next morning and found it just as wildly insane as I did the night before. Even Mrs. , who bailed thirty minutes in the night prior, was glued to the ending. And she hates horror movies (or so she routinely insists).
Bottom line? Believe the hype. Not only is the entire film jaw-droppingly clever, but the execution of that genius is damn near flawless as well. Though if you're in high school, you might want to wait until after graduation. Or at least after prom.
Never having graduated anything, or, um, prommed, er, anyone, are the Yays and Boos. But there's no rush, fellas, as there's so much sex to be had when you're married, just wait. Shh. Do you hear that? Is m. brown crying?
Look, you're either a total slut, had sex with someone who's a total slut, or at least caught something randomly, of course, having sex. Technically, dirty sex at that. Sound like a win. It's like telling someone a story about something that happened at the gym. You get to say, Well, I was working out...and you don't necessarily sound like an asshole. But here? It's even better. So, like, after we banged...
That's great, you know? It's not like it permanently scars you by secretly following you around the rest of your life, threatening to kill you at any given second. Cause that's decidedly not great. Or awesome.
Set in a Detroit suburb, It Follows is a pretty simple story. After a jarring opening (think The Ring, expect less terrifying) we meet neighborhood hottie, Jay (a lovely Maika Monroe). Jay is out at the movies with her boyfriend, when things head south. Not that, perv, but her man sees someone that Jay can't. Yikes.
Bad as that is, they end up doing it in his car, and Jay wakes up, you guessed it, tied to a f--king wheelchair [insert Taylor Swift saying Oh no here]. Very quickly, this f--ker explains the rules and seems Jay will now have some sort of demon following her until she can pass it off to someone else. Well, f--k me, how can she get rid of this thing? I think you just answered your own question. Ohhhh.
I don't get it.
As slowly-paced as it is, It Follows never really lets up (I know that sounds stupid, but it works - trust me). And as intense as things get (that f--king beach scene!), nothing can match the simpulan ten minutes, where the shit is truly bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I actually re-watched the finale the next morning and found it just as wildly insane as I did the night before. Even Mrs. , who bailed thirty minutes in the night prior, was glued to the ending. And she hates horror movies (or so she routinely insists).
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| She might have crabs, but thank God she doesn't follow Bad Horror Rules and walk like one. |
Never having graduated anything, or, um, prommed, er, anyone, are the Yays and Boos. But there's no rush, fellas, as there's so much sex to be had when you're married, just wait. Shh. Do you hear that? Is m. brown crying?
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| That lighting! Soooo romantic. Nothing bad could happen here! |
Yaaaaaaaaaay!
- What the f--k, opening minutes of It Follows? I wasn't ready for that. Shit. I'm still not.
- Dude, what the Hell time period is this? I'm going with late 80s, well, for the most part. But then we've got some fancy Shell Phone? Ow. My brain.
- I'm totally playing 'the trade game' the next time I'm on a date with my college girlfriend.
- That f--king synth score was awesomely terrifying, huh?
- I have an idea! (rip)
- Paul (Keir Gilchrist), bless his hormone-ravaged heart, is the man. He routinely steps up for Jay, even though he's squarely living in the Friend Zone. I feel you, Paul. I feel you. Just not to close, because, well...you know.
- While the cinematography is particularly rad (the wheelchair blew me away), my favorite part of a given shot is how poorly lit it is. You can see what's going on, but it's pretty f--king intense to do so.
- OH SHIT! HERE IT COM- up, nevermind. It's a person. A real person. That can hear me.
- Two words: The beach.
- And finally, as I mentioned above, the ending. Not sure how they broke into Michael Phelps house, but that was a wild simpulan ten minutes. Oh, and the last thirty seconds? Perfection. Creepy ass perfection.
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| I've been to Detroit. This is a nice building. |
Boooooooo!
- I respect the actress, I do, but keeping the bra on was about the least plausible thing in this movie about an invisible sex demon.
- That was a pretty weak ass setup, Hugh. A real dick move if there ever was one.
- Don't let it touch you! (tires squealing)
- Well, that's the last time I trust someone who approaches me...with a titty out. Two? Cool. But one? Stay the f--k away, Demon.
- I loved it...but it has to walk everywhere? Hmm. Did someone have sex with Jason Voorhees along the way?
- Naked Guy. Yikes. Well, I'm sorry, where are my manners. Naked Roof Guy.
- Wait, I go to help you out, and I get shot? Seems like somebody got a raw deal. And speaking of raw deals...Paul? What the f--k, man?
- And finally, the ending. Yes, it's both. Look, I'm going to be honest with you...I was totally nodding off, that's why I went back to it the next day. Anyway, I watch it, again, and confirm that I did see everything I needed to. Then my wife makes a comment, like, ewww that's freaky. And then I have to say, what is? And she looks over slowly, as she always does when I miss the most obvious thing. We play it again. Ohhhh. I can't help that one. I was looking at the guy raking leaves! I mean, who the f--k rakes leaves at 5 in the morning? You can't trust that f--ker. This goes on...but yeah, I'm a f--king moron.
What's also moronic, is making light of sexually transmitted diseases. They are serious business, kids. You should always take precautions, if you choose to be in a committed sexual relationship. Or even a fun one, too. Wrap it up, kids.
Wrap. It. Up.
This advice works for blog posts, too.