“I’m not in love, but I’m gonna fuck you ’til somebody better comes along.” – Marilyn Manson
Since I’m having trouble writing the next chapter of Nice Ass, I thought I would post something over here. (Honestly, I’ve written it, I’m just having trouble posting it.) Nothing in the world news is really pissing me off, though, so I’ll write about a movie that really made me think.
Just Friends is a movie that was recommended to me by Virginia Belle, based on several conversations between us about The Friend Zone. The plot is very simple. An overweight high school boy (Ryan Reynolds) and the hottest girl in school (Amy Smart) are best friends, and Chris, the unfortunate boy, wants to be more than that. At their graduation party, Chris writes of his desire to take their friendship to the next level in her yearbook. The yearbook falls into the wrong hands, and is read aloud to the entire graduating class. Humiliated, he runs away.
Fast forward a decade, and find Chris in Los Angeles, living the big life of a record producer. (Yes, I still call them records, and I will continue to do so until I die!) He’s shed the fat suit and looks much more like the Ryan Reynolds we all know and love from movies like Waiting and Van Wilder. He’s also a complete womanizer.
Fate, however, lands him back in his small town, and pushes him back towards Jamie, his high school hottie. It wouldn’t really be much of a movie if it didn’t, I suppose. Anyways, he and Jamie try to pick up where they left off, and it ends up forcing him to drop his womanizing ways and return to Mr. Nice Guy. Once he does this, he gets the girl.
Now, ever the skeptic, I can only suspend so much disbelief in one sitting. While it certainly makes for a happy ending to see him get the girl, it’s not bloody likely. And what underlying message is it sending about obesity? He might still be the super nice guy at the end of the movie, but he’s about 150 pounds lighter on top of that, so he’s certainly not the exact same person.
Anyway, the movie got me thinking about my theories on women and dating. It reinforced the belief that a man must be an asshole if he wants to get women. Who cares that they only last a week or two? If you can get a new one whenever you want, I suppose it doesn’t matter at that point, right? It’s like leasing a car… you drive it until you’re tired of it, and then you go get a new one.
Since it’s unlikely that I’ll lose 150 pounds in my 30s, I’ve decided to take one thing from this movie, and that is that life is better without emotional attachments. The Nice Guy is dead. If it means I’ll never have another meaningful relationship, then that’s the price I gladly pay to never make myself vunerable to another human being.
“Without emotions, without feelings, without love, without hate, breath is just a clock, ticking…” – Combichrist