It made me laugh, it made me cry; all in all, it was great. Because any movie that turns me into a hormonal cry-fest deserves a gold star. The only thing of note is that the depiction of the bitchy Southern ladies was so spot-on that I spent half the movie in an irritated ball, wanting to shank
I just can't stand passive-aggressiveness in any form. Of course that meant my friend was sitting besides a hissing and yowling cat-version of me as I spit my animosity at the screen. Because talking to an inanimate object isn't the first sign of insanity. I admit that I am one of those people who talks during movies. I'm sorry, but my comments are just so brilliant, they cannot be bottled up.
We'll see if we are still friends tomorrow. We're supposedly driving to our Mega-Mall (like I said, movies and malls, we are cool kids through and through), but she might just drop me off on the outskirts of town, in the hope that I never come back to chatter through her movies again.
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