Trillaphon: This is where it gets ugly.
Hydrogen: Jesus Christ, the movie gets uglier?
Trillaphon: No, I meant my raging alcoholism. This is where it really kicks into overdrive.
Hydrogen: Sweet merciful fuck, that thing is going to haunt my nightmares forever.
Trillaphon: I BRING YOU LOVE...AND DEATH. MOSTLY DEATH.
Hydrogen: My brain just hard-locked trying to decide which to reject first: the mentally handicapped steroid-freak octo-teddy bear, or the jail-sharks from Brooklyn New Yorkasharkachussetts.
Trillaphon: So let's review: an unscrupulous one-eyed whaling magnate, in cahoots with a gang of ex-con guido sharks who his toady can speak with because he's Aquaman, enlisted a giant hydrocephalic muscle octopus to huck an iceberg into the Titanic. Said Titanic being the boat that he's currently on board with his wife and children. Question marks.
Hydrogen: Spoiler alert: the Titanic does actually sink, but everyone rides away on magic talking whales to safety, including the mouse who was lying dead in a pool of his own bodily fluids after having 20,000 volts run through his mustache to send a telegraph message to somebody, maybe a whale because none of the other options make any sense.
Hydrogen: I can't believe I got to use the phrase "spoiler alert" in a review of a fucking Titanic movie.
Trillaphon: It's actually kind of fitting for this Titanic movie, it actually has lots of surprise twists nobody could ever see coming.
Did Louis C.K. jerk off in front of two female comics? And why are these ladies squandering an opportunity to learn from a comedy legend?
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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