Brokeback Rack
2007-01-28 - 7:38 p.m.

before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

Argentum watched the Devil Wears Prada two nights ago with Audrey.
�



Anne Hathaway, the soul-less bombshell with perfect features and
gorgeous breasts played the ingenue.



"Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle," �he muttered appreciatively under
his breath. �He could watch Meryl Streep torture pretty Anne
Hathaway all day, feeling no connection with the pretty, yet
spiritually empty girl. �He felt utterly no connection with
her. �Maybe it was the scars of life. �Maybe it was
her lack of any character whatsoever. �He tried to care about
her fate, and failed. �Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep were the
only things that kept the movie from being a real piece of shit.



That and Anne Hathaway's rack.



Making note of his noises of appreciation, Audrey said, "She has a nice
rack.".



Surprised, but not missing a beat, Argentum said, "I want to see her
rack."



"You don't get to see her rack in this movie." �she replied.,
"You get to see her rack in Brokeback Mountain."



"She's in Brokeback Mountain?" �



"Yes."



"Who does she play?"



"Jake Gylenhaal's wife."



So, two nights after that Argentum sat down to watch Brokeback
Mountain, yet again, after having HBO thrust it in his face for months
prior, but never managing to see a rack, any rack whatsoever.



He watched Heath Ledger put it to Jake Gylenhaal with a mixture of hate
and lust, duly noting the best part of the movie.



The best part of the movie? �



The next morning when Heath Ledger wakes up and has the "Did I just
fuck him in the ass?" �look on his face.



That's acting!