To all of you who follow this little ditty of an extra-curricular activity I like to call my Internet-based existence and path of expression for my depressingly obsessive need to display verbal acrobatics, like a mole on the back of the filmic community left in the sun for too long, I have decided to grow. That’s right! After the debut of Mr. Alex Huntsberger’s OSCAR PLEASE! segment, I have invited the delightful and delovely Ms. Erin Coleman to stretch her loquacious limbs by way of a new column. You might remember Erin as the lady, nay, the queen, NAY the Arch Duchess of Nipple Counting from my sure-to-be-watched-at-some-point webseries Whine and Cheese. She is, in every sense of the word, my cohort, a brave and brazen adventurer ready to spelunk into the deep, dark depths of cinematic turditude. She is a Queen of Schlock, a Lordess of the Dance…and she is currently gchatting me and trying to convince me to watch Don’t Trust the B in Apt 23. Yeah, not gonna happen, EC Rider. Anyhoo, Ms. Erin is going to be exploring a harsh and deadly realm I do not wish to venture, a beehive, if you will, into which I am not willing to stick my dick…and that is, of course, ROMCOMS. That’s right! The genre designed to make women obsessed with finding a man and convincing them that if they aren’t married before 25 then they are obviously a slut. Well, Erin will be delving into this pool of latent misogyny for me in her new column Ticket For One. Because there is nothing sadder than a single lady, a bottle of wine, and a Katherine Heigl movie.
Godspeed, you black emperor. In the valley of the blind, the man with one eye is king. And the lady with the bottle of merlot is having A REALLY GOOD TIME.