You're blind to everything.

We f--ked up. Big time.

My wife and I must have been smoking some good shit the day we decided to buy our house. Well, we don't actually do drugs, but when I think about our house, substance abuse seems like a solid plan (and likely we could acquire them nearby). Now, don't get me wrong, our place? It's relatively charming. And at the time, affordable. But little did we know it's in a horrible location. Well, that's not entirely true. It's on a busy road traveled exclusively by douchebags. It's also near some ugly electrical transformer facility, where they implausibly craft telephone poles twenty four hours a day. But what pisses me of more than anything? Motherf--kers break into our cars. All the time.

Luckily for the audience, the characters in Sofia Coppola's The Bling Ring have their sites set much higher than Bumf--k, PA. These entitled little shits stake out Hollywood, and stealing valuables out of cars is only the beginning. Eventually, taking something out of an unlocked car isn't enough, and this crew rob mansions repeatedly.

I know I'm old, trust me. But peering into the lives of anybody ten years younger than I currently am immediately makes me want to fight something. And while I'll stop just short of shaking my fist from my front porch (which I don't even have, dammit) at the kids passing by, I clearly resent the youth featured in this flick, if not every teenager on the planet. Youth is wasted on the young, indeed.

Watching rich kids steal from even richer celebrities is a very odd thing. I love movies and I love movie stars, but honestly, I don't give a f--k about what they have and where they live. And I would never even consider stealing anything as I realize how hard it is to work for the little bit of shit I have. I respect talent. And if you get paid millions of dollars for whatever it is you do, good for you. Don't rub my face in it, and we're cool.


Main characters Rebecca and Mark don't even look at it that way. At all. They want in, and don't really see a reason why they should earn the hollow life of a pseudo-celebrity. Well, at least Rebecca doesn't. Marc, the arguable mastermind (he's in charge of reconnaissance, I suppose), is portrayed as a bit of a tool, simply along for the ride. This kid seems to have some sense, at least initially.

See, at first it's kind of a rush to be inside of Paris Hilton's home, but eventually these f--kers unsurprisingly grow bored with their success and break into more and more houses. Even worse, they start breaking into the same houses over and over again. It's bad enough that these kids are greedy enough to go to the well repeatedly, but it might be even worse that the celebrities have so much shit they don't even notice stuff is missing over and over again. 

Speaking of soul-crushing repetition, this is my whole problem with the movie. Initially, I was curious and the thefts were moderately thrilling, but after a dozen or so OMG, look at all these shoes! heists, even the allure of a vapid Hermione couldn't cut it. I wanted these f--king kids arrested. Or shot. Or both.

While we're talking about clueless creatures that should be locked away from society forever, let's sneak into the house of the Yays and Boos and pilfer some of their designer clothes and jewelry, okay? Oh wait, scratch that. They live with me, the poor bastards.

You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach.

Yaaaaaay!

• Emma Watson. She's not the star of this film, but any time with Ms. Granger is a good time.
• Dude. Even though it ultimately didn't work out for him, Marc hit the jackpot meeting a pretty hot/cool chick on his first day at school. Too bad she's f--king crazy.
• Sorry, I don't remember the context of it, but I love the idea of being the average of the people we surround ourselves with. Very cool.
• The long shot at Audrina's house. Perfection.
• Holy shit was that court scene shot frickin' great. Open and shut. Literally.
• And even though Coppola's films tend to take their time with just about everything, I always appreciate the vibes her films exude, even though this one angered me endlessly.

Boooooooo!

• Um, I loathed all of these characters. So...eventually, the minutes felt like hours.
• Not sure if this belongs down here...but I thought that Ricky looked like a poor-man's Gavin Rossdale. Then I checked the credits, and it was indeed Mr. Gwen Stefani...not just some fat guy that doesn't want to come back down from this cloud. This cloud.
• Paris Hilton. No way she really leaves the keys under the mat, right? Right?
• What the shit was that drop it low scene? No, really. Somebody better answer me.
• Lindsay Lohan. Paris Hilton. Megan Fox. Audrina Whoever. Fine. These ladies leave their shit wide open (talking about houses and safes guys), fine. But Orlando Bloom, too? C'mon Legolas. I expect more from you.
• Oh, and what the f--k is up with no one locking their lock boxes? Damn it, people.
• Storing stolen items at Grandma's house? What a bitch move, bro. Bitch. Move.
• And finally, even though I liked the ending because it truly showed how utterly f--king clueless most of these people were, well in one sense anyway, it also was so surreal it left me completely bewildered. At some point, you kind of expected those involved to simply wake the f--k up. Sadly, that was not the case. Really? What did Lindsay say? This is where I felt like the aliens in The World's End: F--k it. I'm out.

Clueless, entitled kids, man. They're going to be the end of us all one day. These are the kids who break into some broke-ass teacher's car and steal his shit repeatedly. A guy who has tried for years to literally educate them, no less. How do they repay him? Steal all the change out of his console, steal his sweet-ass orange headphones, and yes, steal his old-school iPod, too. Hopefully they've learned something by now.

Like what real music is. Not this noise they listen to.

(heads out front, shakes fist)