My friend decreed that Bend It Like Beckham is the quintessential chick flick. I disagreed with him, having Legally Blonde in mind, but almost revoked that statement after having watched it again last night. It was somewhere between getting all teary when Jess's dad defended her dreams and swooning when she and the coach finally kissed that I began to doubt myself.
And yet I found myself getting more high with each gunshot and explosion in Live Free or Die Hard, overwhelmed by euphoric bliss when a police car and helicopter collided in midair.
I remember an episode of House with someone like me on it. House could fix me if I wanted him to.
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