While visiting my boyfriend’s family in the southwest region of Florida during the 4th of July holiday, I was invited by his grandma and aunt to see Magic Mike with a few of their church friends. Yea, and that’s not even the end to my story.
I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to the Magic Mike previews. Aside from Channing Tatum and Matthew McConaughey dancing around to “Moves Like Jagger” while the female race jizzes their panties, I figured this movie was set to appeal to the tweeny masses. The Twilight fiends who love to see skin but never get to see the actual sex. So I pegged this as a silly stripper movie, a fleshy vehicle to send the girls of the world screaming into theaters. I was wrong. I was so incredibly wrong.
The first 15 minutes included the following: Channing Tatum’s luscious/toned/unfair bare ass, Olivia Munn’s boobies, some additional naked chick to imply a threesome, men in thongs, a penis pump and visual of a penis head being pumped, and the most intense grinding stripper moves you will ever see. The kind that make you think, “This guy would literally smother and kill me in bed. GIVE IT TO ME.” However, I did not make any comment like that in the theaters because I was slightly horrified of the fact that my boyfriend’s sweet, adorable grandma, his aunt, and their church friend were sitting by me. Was there really another hour and twenty minutes of this left? YES. And I was simultaneously ecstatic and confused.
The movie had it’s terrible plot (“The ‘Citizen Kane’ of stripper movies”?! Seriously previews? THIS is all you prepared me for. You couldn’t have told me there was some dick? Thanks.) and Channing worked the hell out of lots of girls and the stripper stage. Matthew McConaughey was a real douchebag, but a douchebag with an AMAAAAAZING torso. There’s an old saying about washboard abs, that you could wash clothes off some six-pack/eight-pack abs. You could actually wash anything off of Matthew McConaughey’s abs. Those things could sink the Titanic, again. But I digress.
When the movie ended, I was tempted to clap (Did I mention Channing Tatum’s dance moves? And McConaughey’s rock hard abs?) but I was also really scared to say anything. I wasn’t sure if my boyfriend’s grandma was petrified so I was ready to bash the movie for it’s inappropriateness and degradation of women’s breasts. But what are the first words I hear, straight from my boyfriend’s aunt’s mouth? “They never danced to ‘Moves Like Jagger,’ I’m really disappointed.”
We all began discussing how none of us knew we were seeing a movie like that. You know, like porn. After about 20 minutes of awkward laughing and my boyfriend’s grandma talking about how much more she likes Matthew McConaughey in those sweet romantic movies and he just wasn’t very nice in this one, we finally just started bursting out laughing over the whole ridiculous situation.
Once we got back to the house, I looked at my boyfriend (his name is Mike, the irony) and told him I just had an intense bonding experience with his grandma and aunt while watching porn. You should’ve seen his face.
Naturally, we’ll be there opening day for Magic Mike 2.