Though it's rare, sometimes it can simply last too long. At the beginning, everyone's excited and things are rapidly progressing to a state of nervous euphoria. The end might be the best part, but nothing you necessarily want to rush into, right?
But then, for whatever reason, it just...keeps...going, and going, and arriving at a satisfying conclusion goes from something you desperately want, to something you absolutely need. Like, this shit has gone from all kinds of fun, to something resembling manual f--king labor.
You're exhausted in every conceivable way, wondering what exactly you need to do to make it through. And just when you think it's over...it isn't. And you're thinking, f--k this. I'm throwing in the towel.
I don't know what you're thinking about, perv, but I'm talking about this utterly f--king epic Fifty Shades Darker review. Started here, this is the first review in the illustrious/dubious history of this website that has been broken into two separate posts. Are you f--king serious? I am. And I'm sorry.
Here are the F--k Offs, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch. These are basically the things I hated/enjoyed most about the movie. That doesn't make any sense. You're right. So why don't you just....
Oh, thank God. It's finally over.
You good? Good.
I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind. I'm drenched.
You're sure you don't need help with the beads?
But then, for whatever reason, it just...keeps...going, and going, and arriving at a satisfying conclusion goes from something you desperately want, to something you absolutely need. Like, this shit has gone from all kinds of fun, to something resembling manual f--king labor.
You're exhausted in every conceivable way, wondering what exactly you need to do to make it through. And just when you think it's over...it isn't. And you're thinking, f--k this. I'm throwing in the towel.
I don't know what you're thinking about, perv, but I'm talking about this utterly f--king epic Fifty Shades Darker review. Started here, this is the first review in the illustrious/dubious history of this website that has been broken into two separate posts. Are you f--king serious? I am. And I'm sorry.
Here are the F--k Offs, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch. These are basically the things I hated/enjoyed most about the movie. That doesn't make any sense. You're right. So why don't you just....
 |
| Oddly enough, my current boner has nothing to do with Ana. (I don't even think Vin has that poster in his house) |
F--kkkkkkkkkk
....Offffffffffffff!
- The uppity early fifties couple that sat next to us. First, this bitch sat in my wife's seat. Her assigned seat. But worse, when I got there first (and sat two seats away from her), she kind of sideways glanced at me, and uttered? Are you expecting company? No ma'am. I like to be alone when I violently masturbate.
- Early on, Christian is seen in bed...uh, being tormented by his past. Or being violently sucked off by that thing from The Shining. My eyes are pretty bad sometimes.
- Hey, Mr. Grey, I know you have everything, except you know, basic f--king decency. That's no way to talk to a server, dickhead. *m.brown runs to his room and cries himself to sleep*
- If my wife ever divorces me, I doubt the key to winning her back will be to renegotiate our relationship. (seriously, does he always have to sound like an asshole?)
- Text from Christian: Dream of me. Subtext from Christian: I want to spank your titties.
- The whole 'mysterious girl' thing is so f--king poorly handled, I might have to purchase a copy of this movie so I can relive it every single day of my life. Like, how is someone who looks like they've never traveled by any means other than indifferent shuffling, quite literally the fastest person on the planet?
- Okay, so that was the most awkward Ben & Jerry's product placement ever. Though I am looking forward to the purchasing the tie-in flavor, Christian's Cookies and Cream on My Face.
- I'm sorry, but Mr. Grey has an epic amount of pubic hair. Nothing about this guy suggest anything other than a Dr. Evil-style freshly scorn scrotum.
- I actually think that Dakota Johnson is a decent enough actress, so I'm rather concerned that she can't convey anger. Is this a medical condition or something? Someone get her a board like Anthony Hopkins had in Legends of the Fall. I'll wait while she scribbles MAD onto her chest. I've got the time.
- What the f--k was with the Lipstick Roadmap? Were we supposed to feel sad? 'Cause that shit was hysterical. Especially when hours later, it's still perfectly in place on Grey's torso.
- Who throws their adult son a masquerade ball on his birthday? And why am I convinced that Mike Pence was in attendance? And after this, what do you get your kid for Christmas? Oh, right. A homeless man to hunt down and murder.
- YOU GUYS. Christian Grey not only has a 25" tube television in his childhood bedroom, but he also has a framed Chronicles of Riddick poster. I'm literally sweating right now.
- Also kicking it old school, is Grey's phone. I swear, he's got his text set so big, my grandfather would be like, Can't you make this shit smaller?
- The most upset you will ever see Anastasia is when her car gets vandalized. F--ked in uncomfortable places by a malfunctioning cyborg? Yes, please. White paint on her red car? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
- Half the time Grey looks at Anastasia, I'm pretty sure he's imagining eating her skin.
- There was one time the music during a sex scene made it seem as if Grey was clicking his dentures together...while going down on Ms. Steele. I'm all for kinky...but that shit's creepy.
- Somebody say book expo again. I f--king dare you.
- Why are movie boardrooms always full of the worst f--king people alive? I swear, these f--kers are either locked into disapproving glares or misguided elation. I guess it's fair, as that's pretty much where I was at, too.
- Diddling her in the elevator? Seems like you're putting the rest of us in a real awkward spot, Grey. Not only is everyone listening intently on everything that is happening in that elevator, but now, for the rest of my life, I gotta put my shirt over my finger whenever I push the goddamn floor button. Thanks, asshole.
- If I worked at a newsstand, and somebody asked me for a giftbox, I'm pretty sure I'm within my basic legal rights to absolutely f--king murder them on the spot.
- And finally, the ultimate F--k Off, is that not only have I seen both of these films theatrically, which is honestly, terribly f--king awkward (f--k you, it is), but they are really, really bad movies. The rub? They're so bad, soooooo so awful, that I'm actually psyched for the next one. How this is possible, I'm not even sure. And to that, I say enthusiastically, F--k off!
Oh, thank God. It's finally over.
You good? Good.
I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind. I'm drenched.
You're sure you don't need help with the beads?