Two things I need to get off my chest.

1. Within the last six months, I have seen two British films described as “romantic comedies” – Maybe, Baby and Dirty Filthy Love. I think we need to sit the British down and gently explain what a romantic comedy is, perhaps using a Powerpoint. Maybe, Baby is about a man and woman unable to conceive and how their marriage falls apart. Now, they get back together in the last minutes of the movie, but… not romantic, not comedy. Dirty Filthy Love is about a man who suffers from OCD and Tourette’s and how he loses his job and his wife and basically holes himself up in an apartment for months. He meets a nice OCD girl in his support group and they walk down a beach at the end after he has emotionally shattered into a million pieces, but… still, not romantic (since he spends the whole movie pining for his estranged wife) and DEFINITELY not a comedy. A person who would find this funny would find jokes about “retards” funny. I’m not saying that romantic comedies have to be all sappy and cuddly, but these are dramas with moments of funny in them. Totally different. A vaguely happy ending maketh not a comedy, so sayeth me.

2. OH DEAR GOD, have you seen any of the commercials for Rock of Love Tour Bus? It’s so, so bad. I, frankly, didn’t know women like this existed. I’ve certainly never seen them in person. Brief description for those of you who are lucky enough to have been spared until this point: Bret Michaels, lead singer of Poison, finds the Love of his Life while traveling around the country on a bus full of skanky trollops and OH, these girls are mind-blowingly skanky. Really. I work in New York, I see all kinds of people, but nothing like these women.

I don’t know why Bret doesn’t just go and date Amanda Lepore already.

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