I used to encourage everyone I knew to make food; I don't do that so much anymore.
I too was ashamed to admit that the only time I can make myself cum is when imagining I am someone else. I have never seen myself as extending into the realm of sexuality, not in my mind's eye. It is too much to pretend I am who the world sees me as publicly, to refuse to do so privately is exciting. Forbidden. I shop in the boys section too, but feeling lace against my vagina excites me. Pretending I…
Calling something pretentious is both lazy and pointless. The far bigger cinematic crime is wanting to be pretentious and while Mandy hardly has a thought rattling around in its mind there is an obvious yearning to be art. It’s a faux art film, desperately striving for all of its slow motion and colored light to be challenging. But to what end? If you have the patience to sit through this your reward is simply having sat through it. Style can render substance meaningless, sure. Too bad style is only as interesting as its creature. Panos Cosmatos isn’t much of one.