Why movies equal me

By Gus Bode

No one knows me

Life is like a box of melted together Butterfingers, you never know whose hair – or fluids – you might be ingesting. Why should this apply? Because all of our lives mirror the movies and movie theatres sell Butterfingers by the barrel.

How does my life signify the cinema? Well as a foreign-born donut (don’t make fun, or I will goo all over you) American movies are a bit, well, boring to me. But, and I mean this with all sprinkle-laced sincerity, there are a few movies that describe this donut in great detail.

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“Sideways” is one such film. I’m a little old, a little chubby and I like a little too much glaze sometimes. Not that that’s a bad thing, because glaze is good for both genders. Anyway, my life makes it easy for me to relate to a movie whose protagonist is a pudgy divorce with a bit of a drinking problem.

“Good Will Hunting” is another such film. I’ve lived in Boston for a bit, I’ve hung on every move of the Red Sox and I’m a very undervalued and potty-mouthed pastry. A genius janitor with a thick accent and a short temper? Of course I can sympathize. And be envious. Minnie Driver’s British bod really gets my glaze going, though.

“Friday” is another film that follows my life closely. I hang out on the curb, I get crunk, I have a crush on the older lady across the street and – here’s the best part – I also drink from a deliciously large bottle. And once Chris Tucker finally accepts my invitation to sit on the stoop beside me, I will be the world’s dopest doughnut.

“What’s Eating Gilbert Grape” is a movie that hits a little too close to home. Why? Because my mother was a little large – as in six times too large – and everyone in town wanted to dip her in a cup of coffee. No, my brother wasn’t mentally challenged and I left no one to rot in the restroom, but the similarities are there.

But if I had to pick just one cinematic incarnation that, well, reincarnates me, it has to be “Aspen Extreme.” This one film fits me so well not only because my friends and I spent hours – and hours – homoerotically scaling the sides of mountains with powdery snow pulsing beneath us, we also won the love of a wonderful female donut as well.

It’s just too bad she had to pick my friend instead. Though, when I think back upon it now, I’m better off. Because now all I have to do is sit around in the dark and think about how much the movies really like me – and are me. Right now, you totally wish you were me, don’t you? And if you don’t, you soon will. Just wait until next week.

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