Monday, August 21, 2006
For those of you who have been living in a hole for a while (read: fetuses) there's this tiny little indie film called "Snakes On A Plane," with some black dude, Denzel Washington or that old one I saw at the Oscars once (Sidney Portnoy? Was he Jewish?). Well, I saw it. That's it. I fucking saw it. For those of you who haven't, I, the personification, in blog form, so I guess the blogsonification (that's trademarked) of the Heckler, endorse this movie. It is a good motherfucking movie, and I don't mean you should fulfill your sick, carnal, Freudian oedipal complex while this movie is kicking ass. Try to wait until after the movie for that. The point is, you should see it, and I am in no way being compensated by the great and humble New Line cinemas for encouraging those of you who are stupid enough to listen to a college humor blog to go see it. But see it. Trust me. And when you go see it, here are a few tips I learned from my movie going experience and would like to share with you:
1. Smoke 5 joints - Now I'm not going to say you have to do this, but I will say you will probably be the only ones in the theater who haven't. Not to mention that only after 5 joints will you be the slap-happy, mindless retard for whom this movie was focus-grouped into existence. Plus, you'll get the movie. Trust me, this is a social commentary with subtle undertones that only the glory of ganja brings out.
2. Purchase snake on a stick toy - This is a must. It will only get funnier as you get higher. It really is the gift that keeps on giving. Use it to hit people during the movie. When children ask where you got it, point to your pants and then sucker punch them.
3. Combine 1 and 2 - (pictured above)
4. Start slow clap - In the absurd and irrelevant opening sequence of an awesome biker rocking out on the highway (so cool!) to a sweet and mellow Jack Johnson song slowly and surely begin to slap your hands together creating a rhythmic sound known as "clapping." I assure you the audience will catch on (and they did, I swear). Soon the whole audience will be swaying and clapping to the beat as you continue to irrelevantly watch a biker do stupid tricks, when all you want to see is venomous snakes and black people yelling "motherfucker." Warning: Be careful not to get too into the opening sequence music. Make sure you do not ask your friend for his lighter, hold it up, light it, sway and start screaming, "I have made fire!" The theater will ask you to leave.
5. There is no subliminal advertising pepsi - Immediately after the movie, or even during it, do not resist the strange temptation to buy certain products, e.g. Red Bull, Pepsi, Dominos, Playstation, etc. This is not because these brand names are repeatedly flashed across the screen or yelled by characters (Samuel L. Jackson does not yell "All praises to the playstation"). I repeat, it is not because of this. Just buy Red Bull. Lots and lots of Red Bull. No reason.
6. Be sure to catch 9/11 shout-outs - like when the snakes commandeer beverage carts and ram them into the barricades built by the people (I swear to God I am not making this up) to keep out the snakes. You should pity those poor innocent snakes who got on that plane not knowing what was going to transpire. I think if the movie teaches us anything, it's that under extraordinary circumstances, even snakes can become heroes. Fun fact: the movie was also originally supposed to be called South Pacific 121 (sound a bit like another movie?). Most people didn't notice this, but if you listen carefully you can hear one of the attractive, physically fit snakes hiss out, "Let'ssss roll" right as they ram the carts into the people. Actually, that might have been the weed.
7. Wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...
8. Hold your peepee cause you gotta go so bad and wait for it...wait for it...
9. Goddamn is he ever gonna say this line?
10. "Enough is enough, I want these motherfucking snakes off of my motherfucking plane!" Yes! You fucking tell them Denzel!
11. Go home.
12. Wake up the next day. Repeat.
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