Since my friends and I couldn't go see Fahrenheit 911, we decided to rent a bad movie. After a half hour of walking around the store, re-enacting our favorite parts of movies and taking boxes that seemed to house bad movies and make up our own dialogue:
"I'm just a lonely cowgirl. I sure hope that some handsome, mysterious stud will ride up and take me away, and then maybe Gran-pa won't have to sell the farm to the bank. Oh my trusted horse Blossom, whatever shall I do?"
"Howdy, missy. I'm your stable boy with a heart of gold, and I just want to thank you for always being nice to me. As it turns out, my dad just struck it rich in Kal-ii-forn-eye-ay, and I'd like to marry you and save you from all your problems."
"Well, that depends on what my horse says. What do you say, Blossom?"
"Whinnies"
"Oh you."
We were making our way through the store when we all spied the same movie at the same time, and exploded in pre-teen-girl-at-her-first-concert glee: Rub and Tug.
The tagline on the front read "A sensual massage with a comic release," and the back read "It's our business doing pleasure for you."
Three girls, three different backgrounds, all working at a seedy massage parlor. Will the new manager be able to keep these girls in check, or will he be forced to lay down the law in the only way he knows possible?
We had found the worst movie ever. Gigli be damned!
This was, quite possibly, the worst ninety minutes I have ever spent, and I'm including the time I was accosted by the Russian Mafia and when I came out.
There was absolutely no sex whatsoever. The movie was rated R, so we weren't expecting much, but we expected some tits at least. Nope. There was one pseudo-sex scene though. While she was giving the guy a handjob (off-screen), one hand was moving up and down and the other covering her mouth in a yawn, the movie suddenly cut to a dream sequence of her sitting on a park bench, smiling a shit-eating grin, holding an ice cream cone, with flower petals flowing in the wind when the wind turns into moans. The ice cream was starting to drip all over her hand, when she looked down and said, "All done. You like that, big boy?"
We stopped the movie and collectively rolled on the floor in pain for five minutes after that scene.
The movie was so bad we couldn't stop watching. More than once it was related to a car crash. It was the worst thing any of us had ever seen. More than one person recanted their religious affiliation, since there is no God who would allow this movie to exist. Others decided that Osama bin Laden was justified. I toyed with turning into a Republican so I could hate everyone else on earth and enact legislation that would be comprable to the Holocaust.
At the end of the movie, we find it is a product of Canada. Fucking Canucks.
You are all just lucky that I had turned the computer off before I left for the movie. That night, I would have deleted all Canadians from my links list.
I'm not even explaining the half of my hatred for this movie, but I'm starting to cringe just typing about it. Ugh. I'll have to end this now before I go insane.
