Review: The Machine Girl
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When you ask me what my favorite movie is, I’d probably stay quiet for a while and give you some pretentious artsy shit like City of God, or even the incomprehensible Babel to impress you. And if you happen to possess a vagina, I’d probably even name Orson Welles and Akira Kurosawa as my favorite directors so I can get into your pants, even though my only experience with these directors was when I snored through Citizen Kane and when I wanked off at the rape scene in Rashomon. (Shut up. 1950’s Japanese rape scene is STILL a Japanese rape scene.)
Yeah, I name all those films I can even barely understand so I can pass off as an artsy dude who gets all the ladies who swoon at a film freak. So far, I managed to nail one: Joan, the girl who sells popcorn at the Cineplex in SM San Lazaro, and she technically doesn’t have a vajajay. Also, Joan may or may not be her real name. For all we know, it might be “Juan”, but I refuse to elaborate any further. Read the rest of this entry »
