By Jeffton Bopeton III

I recently had the misfortune of being awake throughout an entire VCR tape of Fried Green Tomatoes. Despite the promises on the back of the box, my heart remained unwarmed, I did not cry, and my senses were decidedly un-dazzled.

For those who haven't seen it, it is another movie (like that predictable, boring disaster Chocolat) whose plot is driven primarily by the premise that men are bad. It consists of a cliche flashback sequence of the South in the old days and some modern day crap about a fat lady with a fat husband.

According to movies like this one and its lesbian partner Chocolat, there are only three types of men in the world:

A. Men who are good-natured, but stupid and/or bumbling
B. Men who look like women
C. Men who are evil wifebeaters/alcoholics/racists.

Seriously. If you don't believe me, watch one of these two movies (although I'm sure there are about twelve million others just like them. I haven't, however, had the misfortune of being awake during any others.) and find an adult male in either who doesn't fit into one of those categories.

Fried Green Tomatoes does have a couple of good parts, though. Like when one of the type C males gets his shit ruined by an angry black lady with a frying pan. Oh wait, did I just give away the big secret mystery? So sorry.
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