Sex And The City, The Movie
So my wife is going to see the Sex And The City movie tonight with a bunch of her girlfriends. Apparently women all across America are doing the same thing, and men all across America are breathing a collective sigh of relief that they aren’t being dragged down to the movie theater for Date Night, like they were for Pride and Prejudice.*
I’ve actually heard that there are some men out there who are planning on seeing it. Let me just say this: if you are (1) a dude, and (2) going to see Sex And The City, and (3) this decision is actually voluntary (ie., terrorists are not holding a gun to your head and/or you will not be getting sex from your spouse in exchange for your attendance) your manhood is hereby revoked. Please drop it off at the nearest ladies bathroom or scrapbook store. (You should also do this if you voted for David Archuletta at any point during the past season of American Idol.)
Ok, ok - I’ve never actually watched an episode of Sex And The City, but I don’t need to in order to know that it’s not exactly oriented towards the male mind. First of all, if guys had made a show for guys called Sex And The City, it would have been on much later at night and it would have been about strippers. And I would have gotten in trouble for knowing anything about it.
Some very basic research reveals that the show is, in fact, largely about shoes. And someone named Carrie, and her three friends, and all their dysfunctional relationships. They’re all really messed up, but they’re rich, glamorous, and sexy, too. So they’re just like normal middle-aged women, except for the rich, glamorous, and sexy part. Oh, and there’s this dude named Mr. Big. I think maybe he’s her pimp. I’m not sure. Not a single one of these characters has superpowers, carries a really big gun, or is a ninja, so why the hell anyone would want to watch the TV show, let alone the movie, is beyond me. Anyway, I just saved you ten bucks. You can thank me later.
* Ok, seriously, why couldn’t Pride and Prejudice have been a Girls Night Out instead of Chick Flick Date Night? I had to employ my trusty “beer belly” to get through it.
June 3rd, 2008 at 10:08 am
So….I’m cleaning up my saved websites and I come across your blog. I remember reading it on and off over the years, but couldn’t really remember how I came acrossed it or who the auther was.
Then, last night, I’m on the phone with a friend in Sugar Land, TX and tellin’ her about this blog I read about Sex and the City and how those men who are voluntarily going should have their man card revoked. Relevance? ‘Cause her husband wants to go.
Turns out…Constance is the friend and it’s me, Bevy. Had no idea this blog was yours! Love your blogs!!!
Ha! That’s hysterical. Say Hi to Constance and hubby for me. And thanks for reading my blog. - SF
June 4th, 2008 at 12:51 pm
heh. so looks like Jeremy’s going to have to fill out the manhood re-application, because he can’t wait to see it. He–as a beer-drinking, ex-general contracting man–LOVES the show. Seriously. When we get together, he’ll probably tell you why.
June 9th, 2008 at 5:19 am
My gf asked me to go, I didn’t resist because previous gf and I had watched the entire series. About halfway through the movie, a headache set in. Not your typical headache, one that makes you want to cleave your head in two. Short, shallow, and rapid breathing. Could barely walk once the movie was over. Was that my manhood fighting back to regain it’s proper reign over me?