Category Archives: homoerotic

Bro’d Trip – Magic Mike XXL

There’s a scene in Magic Mike XXL (2015, dir. Gregory Jacobs) where pretty-boy Ken (Matt Bomer) sings Bryan Adams’ “Heaven” to a neglected housewife who has just disclosed that she and her husband have not had sex with the lights on in several years. He holds her close, encouraging her to demand more in the bedroom, essentially telling her that she deserves to have her fantasies come true. It’s such a completely raw, naked (though fully-clothed) moment that I wasn’t entirely sure if I should have applauded or cried. I may have done both. As it turns out, there are several similarly surprising and heartfelt moments in this sequel to the 2012 smash hit. Continue reading Bro’d Trip – Magic Mike XXL

OHMC 2013 – A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985)


Here we are once again, with another full-on review for a film that stood out from the rest this month, but this time not for reasons of quality. Oh, god no. In fact, in terms of being scary, this film ranks so far down on the list, it almost doesn’t even make the list. But when I watched A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, I knew I’d witnessed something that carries a lot of meaning for a lot of people, including myself. Onward! Continue reading OHMC 2013 – A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985)

no thanks for the memories, pt. 1

Sometimes my stupid brain dredges up shit that I wish would stay gone forever. I hate you, brain! Stupid brain! This time it’s the time the high school flag corps was tagged after football season to join up with some girls from another school to form a dance team.

Does any of this make sense to you, people who know me now? Because I’m bewildered and I was there. Continue reading no thanks for the memories, pt. 1

[guilty] pleasures

I’m done with this phrase forever. People who feel like they have to justify their taste in music or cinema by using this phrase: knock it off. I have questionable taste in everything. I’m owning it. I don’t care if everyone knows that I love the greatest hits over the b-sides or that I don’t always go see every subtitled art film out there. In fact, I say: less artsy, more fartsy. Continue reading [guilty] pleasures