BEST. FLICK. OF. 2009.
Not saying that this is the best film MADE or RELEASED in 2009, but it sure as hell helped ME get outta there with a bang, in a manner of speaking. “FUCK: A Documentary,” while not as thorough linguistically or culturally as I would have liked, is still one helluva hoot. Brilliant animation segments by the inimitable Bill Plympton (the Bill Hicks of modern, post-”Liquid Television” animation!!!), interviews with & quotes from everybody from HST to Lenny Bruce to the always-adorable Billy Connolly, Janeane Garafalo, pretty much everybody short of Pryor, Kinison & Hicks. It is, as Connolly says, the consummate word, and probably the first word ever spoken as our gilled, slime-covered ancestors slithered up out of the primordial ooze. If you’ve ever seen his bit about when his father was recovering from his stroke, you’ll be on the floor with this material. Great flick, coulda used a bit more of an investment in research, but well worth the watch/rent/purchase. Pisses me off that Drew Carey enunciates a film that *I’VE* always wanted to do but haven’t, the so-called sequel to “FUCK” — “CUNT!”
Ah well, he still didn’t come up with “SPRUNT!”, now did he.
And they could’ve done two hours with Hunter, while they HAD THE FUCKING CHANCE, on that one word alone. I’m just sayin’. And fuck no, it wasn’t a fucking “suicide.” Shaddup. Imagine if they’d have gotten this rolling while Molly Ivins & Ann Richards were still alive — or Bette Davis! Yeah, I know, financing happens whenever you can suck enough dicks to get it, and suck the RIGHT dicks, to get it done before you die. But dammit, a woman can DREAM, can’t she?!!?! This flick needed more cool broads like them, and less prissy-assed diamond-cutting-sphincter bibul-banging fucktard breeeeeeders, ’cause they had WAY too fuckin’ many of THEM. And ALAN FUCKING USELESS-AS-TITS-ON-A-BOAR-HOG-KEYES?!?!?!??! Are you fucking KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT?!?!?!?!? Who in even ONE QUARTER of their right mind GIVES THAT MORON A FUCKING ***MICROPHONE***?!?!?!?! Ugh. Dammit, this should’ve been done when Pryor was still alive, dammit. I dunno who taught me the words, “Fuck,” “Motherfucker,” and “Cocksucker” first, whether it was Pryor or the Fallen Uterus, but they were very formative instances in my life.
Anyway, if you get Netflix, they’ve got it (where’d y’all think that *I* got it?!?!), or you can try and find it out there in the ether somewhere. At any rate, it’s worth the watch, and it will, most likely, make you smile and laugh a good bit. Why they didn’t just roll video/film/tape/what-the-fuck-ever and let Hunter tell stories, I have no fucking idea, but y’know, I’m fixated like that.
And just in case anybody ever wonders what I do with my seemingly copious amounts of “free time,” now that I can no longer wrangle feral cats (and the transition from traditional painkillers to this new shit AIN’T FUCKIN’ WORKING, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!), here’s a big fucking chunk of it: STILL FEEDING THE SIX FERAL CATS WHO LIVE HERE. Kinda hard to constantly pan-handle from people when everybody else is as fucked or more fucked than I am, but I only have a couple of choices — feed cats or pay bills. Yeah, I could *try* selling ass, but I’d have to give out COUPONS and GREEN STAMPS to get customers, so that would cut into the profit margin severely. So if anybody can help me pay-off the cat-fud bill (it’s an old Far Side, go look it up) and buy gas to go to all of my fucking doctor visits this month, I would be, as always, eternally in y’all’s debt and keeping track for that day when the fucking Powerball DOES finally hit. Again, YES, I know the astronomical odds against it ever actually happening FOR ME, but fuck, for three bucks a week, I get to DREAM for a couple of days, since I can’t even afford to send-in-the fucking forty-page applications for new subsidized/disabled-housing in Lafayette. AND go buy NEW fucking background checks from here, EBR (where I have NEVER fucking lived anyfuckingway!!!), Miami Beach, and NOPD. Yeah, New Orleans, where housing is restricted to people who ALREADY HAVE A WAY TO GET HOME. Don’t get me fucking started. So if you can, hit the Feral Cat Food, Fuel & First-Aid Fund button, ’cause these bastards are eating me outta house & home, and I’m not even remotely joking about that. Hell, been trying to find a safer home for the ferals for the past SIX MONTHS, and not ONE motherfucker in this hillbilly hellhole parish WILL TAKE THEM, even though I promise to feed them at least once a day for the rest of their fucking LIVES.
Have I mentioned that people suck?
Yeahhhh, FUCK ‘EM.