ellauri028.html on line 198: Apparently man is a selfish prick that can't think for himself and relies on "outside influences". He is a chameleon. He is nothing but a mere machine. Well, at least according to Twain. Man is a fraud and only lives for himself. He is really driving home this point that everyone is selfish and acts out of selfish needs (big surprise?), even if viewed (publicly and personally) as a self-sacrificing person. My question is; who cares? If the end result is the same, what does the actions matter. Let's say, saving a woman from a burning house. Twain says you do this out of making yourself feel good and avoiding the pain of not saving the woman, nothing else; the woman comes second to your own need of feeling good. But regardless of how it makes you feel, you still saved the woman in the end. The good is still done, even though you did it for yourself. Forget how the action was achieved. What does it matter if we refer to this as "self sacrificing" or "selfishness". Answer me this question, Twain! THE ACTION REMAINS THE SAME!!!.... I feel this must have been written during a time when everyone was going around smugly proclaiming to be self-sacrificing do-gooders and self-proclaimed religious nuts while really being shitty people; which had to be the most annoying thing ever. I guess it feels a bit outdated and I think people who naively go around claiming that they are "self-sacrificing do-gooders" are simply laughed at in our post modern times as smug assholes who need to get off their high horse (high horse? who owns a fucking horse nowadays, anyways?). I feel it is pretty accepted now that those who do good are doing them for their own selfish gains and the view of acceptance by others, at least I think this is the case. I don't know cause I don't know do-gooders, everyone I know (including myself) are dicks and more concerned with their celluar phones and creating social dating websites on the internet in vain attempts to pick up chicks only to drink alone and desperately spend several hours harassing women on social dating sites until one, out of pity, decides to respond to your 50 private messages, which then they foolishly decides to set up a date with you; only for you to be disappointed and stood up; which results in more drinking and paying a "dancer" to give you a hand job behind the goodwill on a Saturday night....
ellauri028.html on line 202: Now he is on this kick about how man never thinks for himself. He is a chameleon conforming to whatever outside influences he puts himself in. This is pretty interesting stuff here. I apologize that these reviews have become rather flat. The amount of times I have used the word "interesting" to describe things in a vague manner is so blindly obvious and so boring, I can't believe I go on writing these things (and you keep reading them?!) Where is this going to get me, doing these shitty reviews? Does anyone care? Do I really care? I think I need a girlfriend (this is a cry for help)...Anyways, the book is psychological and philosophical or some shit... go read the goddamn thing yourself...I need a drink...
ellauri106.html on line 519: From a hard-working, well-intentioned hero into a "shitty little capitalist."
ellauri112.html on line 636: What the fuck? Where did her money come from before Drew? Not from her shitty home for sure. Soliciting?
ellauri112.html on line 683: Marlo, already a mother of two, begins the film heavily, outrageously pregnant: we learn, in rapid succession, that this third pregnancy was unwanted, that her husband does little of the domestic labour, and that her “shitty” upbringing is the reason she’s so committed to her nuclear family unit. Postnatal depression, never named, haunts the narrative: her wealthy brother offers to pay for a night nanny to avoid, in his words, the advent of another “bad time” like the one that followed the birth of her son, Jonah. When the nanny arrives – described by more than one reviewer as a “millennial Mary Poppins” – the panacea seems to be working. Not only does she look after the baby at night but she also operates as a kind of empathy machine, listening to Marlo’s problems, sharing sangria in the garden, and baking the Minions cupcakes that Marlo herself never has the time to make. The postnatal depression, it seems, disperses; Jonah – who has “emotional problems” – finds a place at a school more suited to his needs, family dinners get increasingly wholesome, and Marlo does a passable Stevie Nicks impression at a child’s birthday party. And then comes the twist: after a bender in Brooklyn with Tully, a sleep-deprived Marlo, drunk at the wheel, drives her car off a bridge and ends up in hospital, and we realise there was nobody else in the car. Her maiden name, we learn, was Tully.
ellauri119.html on line 698: The implication being that that anyone who disagrees with you is not a “man of the intellect”? That’s just a shitty religion-variety argument. “You can’t feel God because you don’t have enough faith.”
ellauri152.html on line 607: Movie Avigdor is shitty and Yentl and Badass should just stay married, but of course they do not. Yentl leaves, Avigdor and Badass marry, a happy ending for everyone. Meanwhile at the end of Yeshiva Boy, Avigdor and Badass are not entirely happy in their marriage, as both of them are still partly inlove with Anshel/Yentl. Not very Hollywood, but very queer.
ellauri220.html on line 523: "Goddamn Mongorianzh! Shtop breaking down my shitty warr!"

ellauri248.html on line 122: Not. One. Thing. Is. Resolved. Rob Ryan’s character arc? Flop. My wife Cassie Maddox’s character arc? Long sigh. My favorite pair of besties? I don’t want to talk about it. Mystery? Fine, sort of chilling, but also 1) not really a mindfuck and 2) has shitty connotations. The commupence? Non-ex-is-tent.
xxx/ellauri013.html on line 1207: You make me sick. I hope you both die a shitty death.
xxx/ellauri085.html on line 216: Then your pants start to feel tight cause of your shitty habits and then it just spirals from there.
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