My beef was that my movie theater smelled like unwashed teen bodies and nacho pretzel bites. Not to be confused with the underlying spasmodic restlessness of dwindling summer desperation, floppy hair, bright blue chewing gum, (stuck to my shoe, twice in one evening, you pubescent dweebs.) and skinny-jean shenanigans fit for a high-school cafeteria, or Zeus forbid, locker room. Have you ever walked out of a movie theater just based on the sheer number of rabid, rancid, children inhabiting a dwelling? Well, yeah, that was this weekend. About 3 of them, the creatures from the armpit odor haven of doom, asked me to buy them tickets to R rated shows. I. am. so. not. the. one.
Seriously. How bright do you have to be to realize a movie called "Halloween" will do better closer to Halloween!?! But I guess they were afraid of the Saw franchise.
Could it all be that the situation in the world of entertainment—and especially true in the world of the Weinstein Company—is especially dire? So desperate times call for desperate measures.
Or... Since most multiplexes don't care about people sneaking in from one theater to another anymore, one film can get the ticket receipts while the other gets the sneak-in and then WHOOMP, competition eliminated?
08/31/09
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Or... Since most multiplexes don't care about people sneaking in from one theater to another anymore, one film can get the ticket receipts while the other gets the sneak-in and then WHOOMP, competition eliminated?
08/31/09
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