And what did you do with your Friday night,
maradydd?
So
yoctohedron and I were down at the Roxie this evening for the first midnight (ok, 11:30) movie of this year's Another Hole in the Head horror film festival. Tonight's cinematic thrill (ahem) consisted of Beast, a 1974 French film billed as a "sexploitation monster movie". I stand before you tonight, faithful readers, to testify that truth in advertising does, indeed, still exist.
As a teaser, I give you the following (monster-free) excerpt, complete with running commentary from yours truly:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
As a teaser, I give you the following (monster-free) excerpt, complete with running commentary from yours truly:
GIRL ON-SCREEN: *traipses into bathroom wearing filmy negligee, drinks from faucet, conveniently spills water down front of nightie, traipses to bed with much-more-visible nipplage*maradydd: "Dear Mr. Director: Could you possibly make this movie any more gratuitous? Yours truly, The Audience."
GIRL ON-SCREEN: *begins caressing own breasts, picks up conveniently placed rose, runs hands down negligee and sends rose exploring where no ornamental foliage has gone before*maradydd: "Dear Audience: Yes. Love, The Director."
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I hate it when I wake up in the middle of the night with insufficiently visible nipples.
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