By The Mayor of Ponce
BOOM. What up fellow film aficionados? Mayor here. Praise our savior Tom Xenu Cruise! After getting his E-Meter reading and Audits, Shaman Tom is back in the States! Things are getting back to normal here at ASMHQ (which is actually an old Hardee’s in Tucker). Normal as in Tom posting about 6 year old Intervention episodes, and me trying to convince him to use the ASM checkbook while Jen’s in a magic WigWam Snuggie to buy an old Chrysler Le Baron convertible, paint it like General Lee from Dukes of Hazzard, and calling it “General Lee Baron”. I hope Jennifer’s not reading this.
The point is IS, you’re still stuck with me. Now here’s a movie review… of going to a movie with John John Delladonna. We went and saw the 50 Shades of Gray at Cinebistro. Enjoy.
CUTE BOY MOVIE CLUB: 50 Shades of Rampage
It’s a film about torture. Looking at your watch approximately 8 minutes into the over 2 hour movie, you understand why.
It’s a sleepy school night and I scoop our sweet, innocent, little Buckhead nugget Double John Rampage Dolphin Two Tears Delladonna up and head straight for Brookhaven proper. In his traditional tattered khakis, Braves hat, and size 7 Asics, it’s a couple cute boys in the swanky Cinesbistro on a Tuesday. After a couple odd looks from the ticket gal, our bartender ask what film we’re seeing.
“50 Shades”, we say.
“No, seriously”, He asks.
He then goes on to tell us when it premiered on Valentine’s Day, it was the longest day of his life. Hundreds of wine drunk, feral, North American Buckhead Cougars running loose in the theater. I picture the movie scene from Gremlins. Buckhead Betty’s popping up in the popcorn machine, make-up all smeared. Grinding on a Tom Skerrit cardboard cutout- White Zin in hand.
He says it doubled the most profitable day in the history of Cinebistro. I’m sure some perv would’ve loved to smell those theater seats after the last show (Joel Darby).
Rampage and I knock back our Patron shots and head in to get dominated by some cinematic mastery. 84 seats… all empty. But we did walk in while some Dolphin IMAX preview was playing. Like a cobra being charmed, Double John was mesmerized. Goofy eyed and grinning, “This is the shit, right here. I’m coming back for that”, he declares.
84 seats, two now occupied, sans gentlemen’s buffer seat, and our 5th different black tied host has come to check on us. Pretty confident we’re making their slow weeknight somewhat memorable. Not sure why, though. What’s wrong with a couple cool bro’s breaking some bread and having some shots while a 3 month old shitty movie about S&M plays on a massive 50 foot IMAX screen?
The lights soften, the previews roll, and stumble in two skank angels with the Ginuwine song “Pony” blasting on the screen- Praise you, God of Wine. “Do these seats not recline?”, they ask.
Let ol’ maymay blast this softball to the fuckin’ moon…
I offer to make them a pallet on the floor. Awkward silence. So the only logical question I could pose now is, “This is Paul Blart 2, right?”
Basically, Cupid set up a tee, placed these wine drunk angels in our lap, and I pretty much fling the bat into the woods. Great.
John John is unfazed by my bullshit. He really does love going to the movies. The film starts, and *SPOILER ALERT* for this 3 month old movie, It fucking sucks!
It’s more dramatic than a Mexican soap opera. But with the cheese of a special episode Saved by the Bell where Screech gets his 1st pube or something.
Our antagonist Christian Gray is some kind of telecommunications wunderkind billionaire. Except with, ya know, his own Inserrection Dungeon on Cheshire Bridge Road. When John John see’s this, he gets all excited, “He’s a professional, man. That motherf*cker can go!”
Christian is like a Bruce Wayne type, except with douchey European cars that you would see outside of Havana Club instead of a Batmobile. And a wall of Wayne Industries vibrators. And says really un-super hero type stuff like, “Laters, babe”. And “Do you trust me?” Hell no, dude! You’ve got more sex toys than a hundred limp Larry Flynts.
Bruce Lame saves our damsel from a hangover, then chastises her in a smug tone about drinking. This infuriates Rampage. “He’s a p*ssy… He can’t drink worth shit!”
Now sexy Screech is really putting the moves on ol’ girl Daisy, or Petunia, or whatever her ridiculous symbolic name is, and *SPOILER ALERT*, SHES A VIRGIIIIIIINNNNN! “I don’t make love”, he says, “I f*ck. Hard”.
I keep waiting for Chris Hanson from Dateline NBC to walk in, “Hi, I’m Chris Hanson… any reason why you got your dong in one hand, and a Happy Meal and wine coolers in the other?”
John John gives play by play of this scintillating scene, “Oh, he’s about to rip her up!”
Christian leaves our girl after snatching her ‘tunia. “I forgot”, Rampage realizes, “He f*cks hard… then leaves and goes downstairs”.
Yep. Downstairs to play a grand piano in an empty room only lit by a sexy city skyline. And here comes Tooty! “Oh… she’s addicted!” Double John diagnoses. Pen*s pun lost on no one, I hope.
We’re an hour into this non-sense and it’s more of the same. The only torture believable would be having to sit thru the next hour. Everything is so intense. All these contracts and Safe Words with a basic chick- Why can’t dude just go to an Appleebee’s, watch some MMA with a cold Brewtus, and just chill.
And when does homeboy work? Cingular Wireless must be giving him a shit ton of personal days. Basically, he’s just some rich kid with Asperger’s, most likely. And only sexy because he’s filthy rich. If he was making payments on a ’09 Toyota Corolla, I’m wondering how many of you girls are lining up for his Six Flags Sex Dungeon ride.
John John and I dip out on the rest of this sexcapade of thespian virtuosity. We’d much rather Hulu an episode of Saved by the Belt: Mr. Belding Gets a Venereal Disease.
Laters, babes. I’ll wait for the book.
P.S. My Safe Word is “Blueberry Muffins”.
P.P.S. John John’s is “Paul Blart 2”