excepting, maybe, some flicks with Alec Baldwin in them, is Chatterbox. I bring it up because of yesterday’s talk about this, and because people tend to forget these things in all the hype about the cutting edge, groundbreaking, taboo smashing blahblahblah that always accompanies such “outlandish” “events”.
In point of fact, Aeschylus seems to have dramatized the vagina dentata in his lost play, The Phallophagos, which appears to have gotten him into some kind of trouble with the Athenian censors. So, yawn.
UPDATE: very poignant thread about Candice Rialson, departed star of Chatterbox, here . . . especially the last post, by her brother.
Vagina dentata? Wasn’t that a song by Iron Butterfly? “In Vagina dentata, baby, don’t you know that I love you…” Or something like that.
“Hakuna Matata,” I think. But Al Maviva works really well to “My Sharona.”
T’Pring lives!
fwiw, a feminist-ish cafe/coffee shop near UPENN offers a ‘Vagina Fritata’ for brunch. You’re not allowed to order one stuffed with a whole kielbasa.
I had weird dreams.
Is that a code name for a Hillary Press Conference?
In that fine compendium of bad movies, “The Golden Turkey Awards,” there is a penetrating (heh) analysis of some flick or other starring a vagina which not only talks, but sings.
Forgive the blatant self-promotion, but I have a review of Chatterbox here for your delectation:
http://www.coldfusionvideo.com/c/chatterbox.html