By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Alice Laussade
By Scott Reitz
By Claire Lawton
By Kiernan Maletsky
By Anna Merlan
I'm really sick of talkin' about sperm.
I don't wanna hear about it. I don't wanna hear about people freezin' sperm, savin' sperm, bankin' sperm, borrowin' sperm, gettin' sperm from their brother, donatin' sperm, fightin' custody battles over sperm, buyin' sperm, sellin' sperm, or otherwise doing anything with sperm except keepin' it to themselves. Why are all these people obsessed with spermatazoas?
Do they really think we care that much what sperms their baby is gonna be made out of?
In fact, most of the people who are nuts about sperm shouldn't be passin' along those genes anyhow. You ever notice this? Think of all the people in your life who are beautiful, intelligent, sensible, sensitive, wise, well-groomed, wealthy or just, in general, have their stuff together. Now ask 'em what they think about sperm. "Well, I don't know, I might not even have children."
That's what they all say, right?
Now think of all the people who walk around barefoot in dirty undershirts eatin' Spam out of the can. Ask them about sperm. "I've probably got about eight kids that I know of, but I don't have any yet with Willa Mae." These guys are obviously very proud of their sperm.
And what's the most dreaded disease to the modern American male? Low Sperm Count. Guys would rather have Bubonic Plague than Low Sperm Count. Even guys that have no intention of ever having children. You tell 'em they have Low Sperm Count, and automatically they wanna go shoot off AK-47s in the parking lot just to prove they're male.
Looky here. There's plenty of babies from Korea and Romania and Bangladesh and American foster homes that, in some cases, we don't even know what original sperm they came from, and if we did know, we wouldn't care anyhow, and the original Sperm Donor certainly wouldn't care. Let's take care of these nonsperm-specific babies, okay? We don't need the goldurn Sperm Olympics going on here. If your sperm was so dang valuable, I wouldn't have to explain this to you in the first place, you know what I mean?
And speaking of sperm banks, Tanya Roberts is back this week in Deep Down, the first erotic thriller filmed entirely inside a cheap apartment complex in the flight path of the El Lay airport.
Chris Young plays the nerdy young unemployed heavy-metal guitar-playing lock-picker who lives across the courtyard and likes to spy on Tanya when she swims in the nude.
Kristoffer Tabori is the weirdbeard roommate who lets Chris stay on even when he doesn't have rent money.
George Segal is Tanya's violent alcoholic hubbie, who likes to rough her up right before he kisses her. George is real nasty in this one, blowin' a guy away in the first scene because he chews with his mouth full.
Pretty soon the young nerdy guy decides he's tired of seeing Tanya get knocked around by George, and so he goes over there to save her
As we know, from the other 3,000 erotic thrillers this year, multiple aardvarking ensues.
Three dead bodies. Fifteen breasts. Beer-can opening with tongue. One motor vehicle chase. Gunshot to the temple, in closeup. S&M Fu.
Drive-In Academy Award nominations for...
Kristoffer Tabori, as the scuzzball roomie, for saying "Does the concept behind the word 'privacy'--does it mean anything to you?"
Tanya Roberts, as the hot topic around the apartment complex who likes to wear black lace catsuits, for saying, "I don't want somebody, I need somebody--grow up."
Chris Young, as the naive little whippersnapper who says, "I think any new experience is exciting."
George Segal, as the numbskull husband who collects automatic machine guns and says "You just talked with your mouth full--don't ever do that again."
"I need the title to a slasher flick from the early '70s. It was about this guy who has these black-out spells, and it looks like he's hacking up bimbos whenever he blacks out. There's this one scene where he's on the beach at night with this bimbo in a bikini, and he goes off in search of beer.
"Next thing you know, the bimbo gets it right between the mahi-mahis with an ax! The best part is, the camera goes in for an extreme close-up of the blood, and when it pulls back out it's a bowl of tomato soup this homicide detective is eating. The same detective gets his hand lopped off with an ax later in the movie.
"I remember the title as Night of Bloody Horror, but I've never been able to find anything about any movie with that title."
A video will be awarded to the correct answer. (The winner chooses from a list of about a thousand titles.)
Send "Find That Flick" questions and solutions to Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, Texas 75221.
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