In the last few holiday seasons, there's been an alarming (and entirely unwelcome) trend threatening to make me swear off Christmas forever. No, not the ugly sweaters or freezing my nuts off to see some a-hole light a f--king tree in the town square. Those, it appears, I can actually suffer through. No, what really roasts my chestnuts is this idea that I, yes me, need to provide the absolute perfect f--king present for each one of my children...FROM EACH ONE OF THEIR GRANDPARENTS.
How is this my responsibility? Don't they know I've got my own mostly blank list to deal with? Isn't it clear that I'm the one dealing with lights that don't work on a rickety-ass ladder that may or may not be able to hold me? And if I manage to find a spare minute in my increasingly shitty days...
...don't they know I've got terrible holiday movies to see?
Once Home Alone and Elf have been watched (and re-watched), I'm pretty much all set with holiday movies. Mrs. Two Dollar Cinema, refuses to quit while we're ahead and scours the globe for other potential yule-tide cinematic traditions. Turns out, the only thing seemingly taking place on an annual basis is that she falls asleep during some shitty film she hand selected.
Cue the 2018 entry, A Bad Moms Christmas, the follow up to the mostly not-good 2016 flick, Bad Moms [review]. And also cue the deadly combo of my indifference and her exhaustion.
The sequel opens with the lovely Amy (Mila Kunis, sexy as always) amidst the tattered remains of what looks like a holiday party. She's alone, and the place is totally f--ked top to bottom. And I'm pretty sure a rented camel just walked through her living room. How we ended up here isn't a mystery (selfish a-holes doing dumb shit should just about cover it), but over the next 104 minutes she's unfortunately going to tell us how it all unfolded anyway. Here's the short version: Her mom is an absolute f--king psycho and pretty much everything wrong in the world is her doing.
While we could all probably give the merriest of f--ks about this movie, I feel compelled to let you in on something resembling a true Christmas miracle. No, I didn't go from living under a bridge in the park and talking to my pigeons to sharing a precious moment with a ten year old boy in the snow and rejoining society, but it was pretty damn close.
How is this my responsibility? Don't they know I've got my own mostly blank list to deal with? Isn't it clear that I'm the one dealing with lights that don't work on a rickety-ass ladder that may or may not be able to hold me? And if I manage to find a spare minute in my increasingly shitty days...
...don't they know I've got terrible holiday movies to see?
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| You know we're in a bad spot when Susan Sarandon is the best part of the movie. |
Cue the 2018 entry, A Bad Moms Christmas, the follow up to the mostly not-good 2016 flick, Bad Moms [review]. And also cue the deadly combo of my indifference and her exhaustion.
The sequel opens with the lovely Amy (Mila Kunis, sexy as always) amidst the tattered remains of what looks like a holiday party. She's alone, and the place is totally f--ked top to bottom. And I'm pretty sure a rented camel just walked through her living room. How we ended up here isn't a mystery (selfish a-holes doing dumb shit should just about cover it), but over the next 104 minutes she's unfortunately going to tell us how it all unfolded anyway. Here's the short version: Her mom is an absolute f--king psycho and pretty much everything wrong in the world is her doing.
While we could all probably give the merriest of f--ks about this movie, I feel compelled to let you in on something resembling a true Christmas miracle. No, I didn't go from living under a bridge in the park and talking to my pigeons to sharing a precious moment with a ten year old boy in the snow and rejoining society, but it was pretty damn close.
