A Truffle Pig Hunting For Clichés

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Before the new Bad Boys For Life, I'd never seen a single film in the Bad Boys franchise. Mostly because they sound like the title of a series of gay pornos and they're directed by Michael Bay. God, I can't stand Michael Bay's movies. If I had to pick I'd rather watch a gay porno over a Michael Bay movie. At least the gay porno would be less gratuitous and I'd actually be surprised if it went on for a further ten minutes after the final explosion. This new Bad Boys movie has a new directing team behind it though and so I felt it'd be okay to go and see it without my usual collection of pendants and protective charms. But then about half an hour into the movie, Michael Bay actually shows up for a cameo like Jason Voorhees springing out of the fucking lake to drown that girl at the end of Friday The 13th. “Why is nobody booing and hissing at the screen” I wondered of my fellow moviegoers, “Do they not know who he is?”. Truly the Devil walks amongst us. Not that he directed this movie don't forget. I can't remember the names of the two guys at the helm this time, but it doesn't matter. The film looks like an advert for an expensive watch that you'd expect to find on the wrist of a sexual predator that thinks he's in Entourage. I didn't hate it though. The movie I mean. Not the sexual predator. Or the expensive watch that I made up. 

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A Couple Of Guys Who Were Up To No Good

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I was talking to a friend in work the other day about the new film Gemini Man when they asked me, “if you had a clone would...”, to which I replied “fuck him? I don't think I'd leave the house we'd be fucking so often”. I'm not gay but if you're having sex with your actual self then I presume that technically just counts as a more advanced form of masturbation, right? “I'd have to hope that the other me is more prepared to be the taker though”, I added. “Well.. he'd be as willing to be the taker as you are considering that you're the same person”, my friend said. This was true and so I played the whole thing out in my head. My clone and I would definitely be okay with tugging each other off to start with and I think that once we'd broken that boundary we'd probably move on to blow-jobs. I honestly can't say that I ever want a dick in my mouth but if it's basically my dick and my clone is willing to do the same to me then I guess it works out? Once we've gone this far though I suspect we'd be at the point of no return and within the week we'd just be bumming each other none stop to the point of starvation. 

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A New Fantastic Point Of View?

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Aladdin might be a cautionary tale of what happens when you wish for selfish things, but that doesn't mean that we don't then all spend the film wondering what we'd do if we found a genie. I'm quite happy with the size of my dick so I wouldn't wish for a bigger one. But I'd still like it to be more impressive so I think that my first wish would be for every other man on the planet's dick to be shrunk by a couple of inches. Kind of like how Goldfinger planned to irradiate the world's supply of gold with the exception of his own in an attempt to make his more valuable. Like that but with dicks. I'd obviously want more wishes after that but one of the rules is that you can't wish for any more than the three you're given. So I think that for my second wish I'd simply ask for the power of a genie myself. Just the power mind you. I wouldn't want to actually become a genie because my third wish would be for an Order 66 of the genies. A large-scale mass execution of magical beings in order to ensure that nobody was ever capable of challenging me or preventing me from exercising my own fucking will. Not that I'd do much after that I suppose. I'd probably just make chocolate healthy, create a second season of Joss Whedon's Firefly, and then Thanos snap about ninety-five per cent of our shit species away because most people are dickheads and I fucking hate them. I'd also wish for less of these pointless fucking live-action Disney remakes because at this point they are really starting to do my tits in now. 

It's Just Really, Really Bad

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Don't you hate it when you lie on your C.V., get the job, realise you have no idea how to actually be a brain surgeon, and suddenly now you're a murderer?! Well, it seems that's pretty much what's happened to Suicide Squad which is so structurally fucked and tonally inconsistent that I feel like I should go back to it with a doll so that it can point to exactly where the studio interfered with it. Just look at the very first trailer which used a haunting version of 'I Started A Joke' by everybody's favourite wailing eunuchs, The Bee Gees. It looked pretty creepy, I thought. Then trailer two used 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and the world shat its collective arse out with excitement because the movie looked like it'd be so much damn fun. Perhaps I'm wrong, but when you do watch the final film, it comes across as though they were making trailer one and then changed the product to fit it closer to the more popular aesthetic of trailer two. Imagine if you organised a wake for the death of your sister's husband but it gets on Facebook that it's actually a party, and so you have to put balloons everywhere to try and fake an atmosphere of fun. Meanwhile your sister is killing that atmosphere by crying her eyes out and blaming you for the death of her husband by “pretending to be his fucking brain surgeon”.

A Person Is Smart, People Are Dumb

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I sometimes wonder what the worst thing someone has done, who I’ve randomly been in close proximity to is. I walk past strangers all the time, at least one of them must have been a fucking nutter. I mean, I must have walked past a murderer at some point but have I walked past a murderer who then went home and shagged a dog? It's not impossible is it? What about a murderer who shagged a dog and then worshipped a statue of Mel Gibson that they'd made out of shit? I have walked past a lot of people and so I don't think we can rule it out. It's one of the many reasons that I tend to assault people who attempt to shake my hand. To me a stranger is basically a cat locked in a box with a can of poisonous gas that may or may not go off. They exist in a hypothetical state where they could either be Earth dwelling angels of kindness or even turd-obsessed whore killers who believe that Cliff Richard wants them to burn things. I'm more of a ‘glass-is-half-empty’ kind of chap and so if a human is being presented to me as a blank canvas then I'll assume that they're all animal rapists, child killers and Michael Bay fans until I'm proven wrong. If I don't know you then I think you're scum and I'd like you to leave me the fuck alone. In many ways, I think that this is one of the biggest reasons that I love the 1997 family movie, Men In Black.