How much is enough? 18 inches of cock? Hot and cold running pussy 24-7? A pizza the size of a football field? Apparently, for half the playas in Hollyweird, there's no such thing as enough. All that power and money, and these fucknuts still need that special psychotological jolt that only comes from raping wannabe actresses and, to a far lesser degree, actors?
If the hole in your soul is that deep, ain't nothin' gonna fill it. Do the rest of the humans a favor and just fucking kill yourself.
To take your mind off the Ben & Jerry's Shitgasm oozing out of Tinsel Town, load up on your drug of choice, melt into your seat and zone out to Thor: Ragnarok. You'll be down a few IQ points when it's over, but for the entire two-hour runtime you probably won't think even once about Harvey the Hutt's bulk smothering some sweet, young girl with stars in her eyes. So there's that.
Thor: Ragnarok is Beastmaster with a budget. It's the Molly Hatchet painting on the side of a late model shagwagon come to pow! blammo! life. And it's more pro-drug then Colorado or your hippie uncle. This movie begs, nay, commands you to get fucked up before you sit down. It even features its own version of the trippy tunnel ride from Willy Wonka . . . "Pure Imagination" and all!
It also has Jeff "Er, Uh, Hmm" Goldblum not giving a single fuck, the more-and-more obligatory Stan Lee cameo, and Thor (Chris "You Better Get Your" Hemsworth) fighting AND bantering with the Hulk (Mark "Up-o On The" Ruffalo). Woody Allen is even in it! Well, at least it seems like it the way Ruffalo plays Banner this time around. Seriously, it's one of the weirdest bits in a movie that's 95% black light poster.
Dr. Strange is in it - for about a minute. And the bad chick, Hela (Kate "Little White" Blanchett), has a skeleton army. Because, you know, that's never been done before.
Thor. Huh. Good god, y'all. What is it good for? Absofuckinglutely nothing.
November 3, 2017