Me Head
AMERICAN BEAUTY IS FILTH: A Film Review of the Editor's Favorite Film, by His Mother
My son is not the smartest of my three children. He did exceptionally poor in the fifth grade at Robert B. Grove elementary school, and he thinks it is all my fault. Well, it is not, but I am still willing to go along with this article for his stupid little magazine or whatever it is he's making.
American Beauty is filth, filth, filth. I can't believe it showed Kevin Spacey doing all sorts of terrible things that I know my other son would never do-not in a million years or so. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about. And then there are the boobs. Sometimes I think that my "editor" son only likes movies if they have boobs in them. He was never like that when he lived with me, I can assure you. There are no boobs on display at the Pound house, ever.
I won't tell you what Mr. Editor said to my best friend Mrs.Martinez the other day at church, when he was late and she pointed it out to him, but it is probably something Kevin Spacey would say if he were late to church.
There are some people in this crazy world that think American Beauty is a beautiful film. I have a list of other "beautiful" things that they might enjoy: rotting squash applied to their pillows, a swift knee to the groin, my husband's preserved gall bladder. Mr. Writerboy actually likes the gall bladder, so I take that back.
He said, "I'm not late in Jakarta. I'm early."
Before I return to the movies, I am going to ask my son what he likes, then I will avoid those films. If you are smarter than my son (in my experience, most people are), then do not go see American Beauty.