Maybe I've reached my limit.

It's got to be tough to be a cop these days. People are probably being dicks exponentially. And when you show up to deal with them, every motherf--ker on the scene whips their phone out, just in case you're about to have an extremely shitty day (I just assume most days are regular shitty).

So what can you do to combat the pitfalls of being a cop? Outside of starring in your own segment of Live PD, that is. My guess is, like the rest of us, you f--k around a bit, you know? Play some kids in basketball. Ride the mechanical bull at a call for a noise complaint. I don't know - something! But what you can't do? What you absolutely can not ever do...ever? 

Joke about f--king meth gators, mmkay? Cause that shit ain't funny.

But what is funny, hysterical in fact, was seeing my hardass nephew jump out of his f--king skin a half-dozen times during what could possible be the most summerest summer movie ever, Alexandre Aja's Crawl. Only four people in the world call me Uncle, and I took two of them to see this eighty-seven minute masterpiece. 

Okay, it's actually pretty f--king stupid, but perhaps obviously, in the best way ever. 

Disenchanted University of Florida swimmer Haley (yep, she too is a f--king Gator!) inexplicably heads home in an F5 to check on her dad, Dave (ex-sniper and current/actual plumber Barry Pepper) who isn't, you guessed it, answering his damn phone. Things ain't exactly peachy between these two, but ol' Haley isn't going to let swirling cows and Johnny Law keep her from checking in on her pops.  And shocking no one, he's in a bit of a spot. And by spot, obviously I mean an absolute F--KING GATOR ORGY. Assuming...you know, that's a thing.

I'd tell you more about the plot, but you guys, that's it. It takes about seven or eight minutes to get going, and then it's buy one get one on gators. Oh, and you might think giant f--king alligators are slow or at least can be heard approaching, but you'd be wrong. And by wrong, clearly I mean, armless and swimming in your own bloody urine level of wrongness.

I think eight people total appear on screen in this movie, which is a damn shame when you consider a high number of them are absolutely devastated by the most bloodthirsty creatures on the f--king planet. When we saw Crawl, sadly there were also probably around eight people in the theater, but it's safe to say they all had a helluva time, too. Once this f--ker gets going, it simply doesn't stop, and you combine constant onscreen chaos with a state-of-the-art sound system, and trust me, this movie might actually kill you it's so much (stupid) fun.

You can't really tell that he's holding a dog, but he his.
His name is Sugar. He's a good boy. And a fast swimmer.

Speaking of stupid (fun), here are the Yays and Boos. It totally slipped my mind that my nephew has a major aversion to loud, sudden noises, so of course I felt terrible for taking him to something that features an infinite supply of them. In fact, I apologized to him...but only after his sister and I finished laughing.

Me jumping into the kitchen when I hear my wife pull up.

Yaaaaaaaaay!

• Sugar is pretty chill considering he's paws deep in an F5. Dodge used to freak out if someone gently closed a car door two miles away.
• Trees aren't inherently scary, but when they come through a window with monster truck force? I think I sapped all over myself.
• Nice work with the tarp, Haley. Clevah girl.
• Guys, for real, these gators are f--king amazing. They may not be as badass on your TV, but on the big screen, these scaly bastards are incredible. The one just chillin' in the shadows would have easily been the coolest kid in my graduating class. 
• Goddamn, do I love me some Barry Pepper. Even if he looks like homeless Eminem, I'd shoot a rival sniper in the eye for this man. Or even kill a gator with a f--king shovel.
• Officers, know that I respect you for your service to the community in times of need. But also know, that I laughed my ass off watching you two a-holes being eaten whole by meth gators.
• Dad: Get in the boat...Everyone Else: F--k that.
• Even if it felt a bit like a set, what an incredible set it was.
• And finally, I honestly want to thank everyone involved in this movie. Hell, even the people in the theater. Crawl wasn't even that good, but holy shit it was a good time. 

There's just so much nope in this movie,
I almost couldn't handle it. 

Booooooooo!

• Paramount, you f--kers totally missed an opportunity to sneak a gator or two into the water the stars fly over before the mountain comes into frame. 
• Uh, this ladies locker-room is surprisingly titty-free. Thanks a lot, 2019. (no, but seriously, thank God I grew up in the 80s)
• Sugar is a handsome dog, easily, but will you stop looking at him and keep your f--king eyes on the road?!
• The gators haven't even shown up yet, and I'm thinking there's no way I'm crawling around this basement. It's filthy and poorly lit. 
• Are horribly broken legs genetic?
• It's not that I'm not thrilled to see them...but, uh...can you really steal gift cards from a gas station? Don't they have to be activated first? Actually, you know who would know the answer to this one? Yep, A F--KING GATOR.
• No time for this heart-to-heart guys. Absolutely none.
• And finally, while the miss during the logo was unfortunate, I think the ball may have been really dropped at the end. See, by the time the rescue helicopter shows up, I don't think it would have been a stretch if after being narrowly saved, we come to find out the pilots have both been eaten and replaced by, you guessed it, bloodthirsty gators. [I've pretty much written an entire alternate ending with this premise...but I'm gonna show some unusual restraint and keep it to myself]

Though entirely irrelevant to this film, I started writing this review back in July, and I know for a fact that my pup Dodger was by my side the entire time (he was gone two days after I initially wrote most of this post). I loved my boy so much, but unfortunately this is the last post he'll ever ride shotgun on.