Eat Pray Love Can Suck My Balls

Not that I actually have balls, but I hated Eat Pray Love so much that I would take hormone pills, have the surgery, do whatever it takes to grow some balls, just so that Eat Pray Love could suck them.

This is not a movie that I would ever go to of my own free will. A few years ago when Oprah and all of her estrogeny minions were getting their rocks off on this book, I flipped through it at the store and saw enough to know that it wasn't for me. BUT, when my friend Lee planned a girls night out to see the movie and go out for dinner and drinks, I couldn't say no because #1) I loves me some dinner, #2) I loves me some drinks, and #3) Lee would probably guilt-trip my ass off if I didn't go. And that Lee? She knows how to work the guilt.

Let me just say right now that I love Julia Roberts. LOVE her. But this movie made me turn on her. Any person who would choose to be in this movie is not a person that I dig. I also noticed at the beginning credits that Brad Pitt produced it. Brad Pitt. Now, I also loves me some Pitt, but he can suck it too. Although I'm sure this is all somehow Angelina's fault.

The woman in this movie, who is unfortunately a real live person, was a whiney, annoying pain in the ass. She's an author. She's gorgeous. She has money. She's married to Billy Crudup. Billy Crudup is a catch, people. But this chick was bored and confused about the meaning of life and stuff, so she dumped Billy and got a young actor boyfriend who was James Franco, who is even hotter than Billy. But then she got all whiney about him and laid on the floor and pouted and stuff, then dumped him so that she could go find herself or some bullshit like that.

So she goes to Italy and eats a lot and gets too fat for her pants. Really. That's about it. Nothing else happens there but gluttony and pants shopping. Then she goes to India and whines and complains an prays. I don't know what the heck she was praying about, but I'm sure it was shitty. And in India this chick is surrounded by mega-poor people who are covered with flies and take baths in muddy potholes in the street. And even though she's wealthy and pretty and still slightly bloated from so much yummy pasta and pizza, she still doesn't have an epiphany and say "Holy crap balls! I am the luckiest bitch alive! I'm gonna give these people some money and take my spoiled blonde ass back to America and get a life!" Hell no. She just whines more.

Then she goes to Bali to have some love, which she gets offered by some cute young Australian dude who gets naked and wants to skinny dip with her, but she turns him down and hooks up with Javier Bardem. I'm sorry people, but Javier Bardem looks like a Latino Baboon. The bitch and the baboon first meet when he almost runs her over while she's riding a bike, and I'm praying like I've never prayed before that he turns around and goes back to finish the job and saves us all the pain of watching her do or say anything else. But instead of killing her and becoming my favorite movie character in the history of movies EVER, he falls in love with her. Hence the "love" part of the title. And after, like, a zillion hours of that whiney crap we don't even get the payoff of a sex scene. But I guess that was okay since the couple to my right were making out through the entire movie, which I totally understand because it was so freakin' boring. But they were MAKING OUT. Like, licking each other's faces off and rubbing all over each other from foot to face, and humping each other's legs etc.... When I got super suicidal bored I leaned over and whispered to Lee to see if she wanted to dry hump a little, then I rubbed her leg a bit for emphasis. But she turned me down. Under normal circumsataces I'm not normally a lesbian, but this movie made me realize what severe boredom can do to a person. It can drag your ass out of a closet that you didn't even know you were in.

When a miracle happened and this nightmare of a movie finally ended, a bunch of chicks in front of us clapped. If the world made sense they would've been clapping because that crapfest was finally over. But I'm pretty freakin' positive that they were clapping because their freaky suburban asses actually liked it. Possibly even loved it. They clapped. Sweet Baby Jeebus on a tilt-a-whirl, you guys, they clapped.

My faith in humanity is once again shaken, but my interest in dry humping is rekindled. If dry humping can save you from the eye/ear bleeding that is this movie, then by all means hump away. Just invite me to join you next time. Please.