Last night, I checked out Melancholia at the Charles Theater. It was a hauntingly beautiful depiction of the end of the world through the point of view of two anxious and depressed sisters. The scenes were stunning and I was trying to find deeper meaning in the plot and dialogue, but I couldn't get passed how amazing Kirsten Dunst's boobs were and how nice it would be to have a pair of those. Her body in general is sick, too bad she looks like a snaggle-toothed pubescent boy from the neck up.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment