Regular readers know that there was only one reason I went to go see a certain action movie this weekend. But I didn't predict that I would come away from this awful awful awful—did I mention awful?—film feeling betrayed by the man who has inspired my nether regions like so few men can. At the theater, I found myself staring off into space, as if someone had punched a hole in my head and was fucking my prefrontal cortex with an shellacked fruit roll-up.
But I am a forgiving man—especially when the betrayer in question does this moderately amusing spoof of Dirty Dancing. Ah, memories. Watch: