Tuesday Night Movie Review: Shrooms

In honor of 4$ movie night at the Lyceum in Red Hook. Weekly movie review by J.H. Quest. (These movies are all available on the Netflix instant streamy-thing.  If they weren't, I probably wouldn't have watched them.  The final rating is based on how many people stayed to watch the whole movie.)

     No one had much energy after the flaming morning shits following our too-hot sauce wing session.  We decided to ball (no homo) at home.  Nick and I had wanted to see Shrooms - a suspense horror about American teens shrooming in Ireland - and there wasn't enough opposition from the rest of the ballers to stop us from doing so.

     Shrooms is a movie that should have never gotten past the fetal stage.  I have to admit I was on-edge and frightened throughout much of the shitflick, but that's not really an accomplishment.  Everything scares me.  Puppies scare me.  Puppies are way better than Shrooms, which is more predictable than a b0ner in winter.  This blog typing program is telling me I misspelled boner, but I know I didn't misspell boner.

     Anyway, this movie is garbage.  Busta guessed everything that was going to happen within the first thirty seconds and out of the six of us who began watching only two and a half finished (sexy time was cradling his computer like an otter, thus he counts as a half).  No one acts well, the directing is pooprific, and shots are re-used frequently.  The only thing about this movie that will touch your boner is the demeanor of the douchebag fratboy character.  His brass knuckle-ettes that read 'Death' and 'Coma' say it all.

He even wears them when he sleeps

Final Score:  2.5 Blunts (out of 6)