Review
Love can be difficult and painful. One puts one's heart on the line only to see it either trampled as the love object rumbles past toward some creep with brilliantined hair and a fake rolex, or looks on in horror as it is dissected into tiny pieces of sushi by an assassin trained in the fine art of clock dismemberment. Who among us can claim to have escaped the exquisite torture of watching a trusted loved one betray every principle she claimed to worship, all for a hairy little man with a soul patch and a Subaru QRX? As the brilliant Burt Bacharach once wrote: love stinks. And yet the suits in Hollywood would have us believe love is a valentine wrought in gold filigree upon the New York skyline by young, attractive foolish people with nothing more to lose than a steak dinner and a missed trip to the 24 Hour spa. Wake up! I cannot recommend this, unless your soul has grown a patch and made the quick trip to hell with a beautiful heartless blonde maenad from Minnesota who goes by the name of Tammy.
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