I’m a fan of any film with a great bad dude. You know the kind: fuck any chick, shoot any nerd, and slam a 5 pound porter house steak without blinking.
The bad dude in MIB3 really wants to be cool. And, for, like, five seconds, he’s convincing enough to fool you into thinking he’s hella cool. He shoots these spiky thinks into people’s heads, he rides a sweet ass Harley that probably gets him lots of pussy, and he roars. More bad guys should roar. But, for as much spiky-head-shooting, for all the chicks he should be banging, he just falls a little flat.
This pretty much sums up MIB3.
This film should be awesome, I repeat: people take spikes to the head, but it’s just not. Hell, there are scenes where aliens are literally exploding in front of you. Explosions tickle my ten inch dick like a French Waitress with a feather duster. And, to be honest, my dick was erect for every alien explosion but then Fresh Prince showed up, made a few boring jokes, and generally just acted bored to be there.
Two things make my dick go limp: watching people be bored and restaurants that don’t serve Blooming Onions.
So, as you can imagine, I spent the entire movie vacillating between six and midnight. My cock didn’t know what to make of so many exploding aliens and Fresh Prince boredom.
I’m not gonna say, “Don’t see this.” Explosions happened and Alice Eve looked fuckable. Just be prepared to go home without an urge to masturbate.
Heads Blown Off: 14
Meaningful conversations: 2
Total: 42 Percent