A ragingly hormonal teen and her accidental “anal fissure” take centerstage in “Wetlands,” a high-energy, unapologetically vulgar, take-me-or-leave-me screen version of Anglo-German author Charlotte Roche’s controversial worldwide bestseller (a sort of YA “Fifty Shades of Grey”). Leaving no bodily orifice — or fluid — unexplored, director David Wnendt and breakout star Carla Juri give full measure to the outre self-exploration of Roche’s literary alter ego, Helen Memel, while capturing the underlying sweetness that helped endear the character to millions of readers. Result is a spiky, smartly packaged commercial enterprise as sure to score with mainstream audiences as it is to irk the cognoscenti. Arriving on a tide of heavy advance publicity in German-speaking Europe (where it opens Aug. 22), the pic seems assured of a stellar local bow, but could see better-than-usual offshore sales for a non-English-language commercial release.
What a roller coaster week I have had! To start off the week was a manic Monday. After work on Monday , I did a WinCo run with WCP. Always entertaining. Tuesday was terrible. Started off by being tardy for work, so I treated myself to Tully's before posting up. And... in my experience, when you start off a day like that, any attempt to speed up or make up that half-step, half-tick, never happens. For inexplicable reason, you are now out-of-step with the Universe, and like fucking hell you're gonna make it back up. Never. Fails. I was late to meetings, I was late to a gym class I'm regularly early for, and the list goes on. In fact, I decided on that day instead of seeking out my dream girl of a svelte body, superior intelligence, endless energy, and with a litany of characteristics to make any fairy godmother proud I made the wide-sweeping declaration that I wanted this instead. A 2-ton, yoga pants wearing, 45 year old, bitter, divorcee that is one more named cat f
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