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Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Nipples unfettered by bras glare from underneath white t-shirts.
Just ask Susan Sarandon. In The Hunger, they alarmed her so much so that she had no choice but to spill her sherry down the front of her shirt. Alcohol increases the temperature surrounding the nipple, thereby decreasing the magnitude.
Yet, Sarandon chose to forego the laws of physics for the laws of vampire lesbian film sex scenes.
My VCR had had enough. The rhino semen extraction documentary was one thing. This was something else altogether, something that crossed the line. The VCR decided not to eject the video. It wouldn't let me even watch the video again to, um, catch the young Willem Dafoe cameo.
After one month of temper tantrums from the VCR, I took a screw driver to the VCR and disassembled the thing. The Hunger came out but the VCR hasn't been normal since.
I've tried to trick it into accepting nice family entertainment. I suspect it caught me re-labelling my cockroach video with an "Aristocats" sticker. It wouldn't accept the tape.
I'm getting really desperate now. I only have Nasubi on VHS, not DVD. Blackadder is easily converted. But not my favourite naked Japanese reality tv contestant.
Please, VCR, please let me watch more videos. I promise that I will never watch bad movies again. I promise it will only be Sesame Street from now on. Please?
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