Unless they were swinging their trouser snakes around, this movie was utterly boring.
Actually, the trouser snake slinging wasn’t all that exciting either. I guess we’re old ladies now, but there used to be a time when trouser snake slinging was exciting. Back when we were 18, our moms took my BFF and I to La Bare. We thought we were HOT SHIT. We were young and naive and gleefully shoving our allowance dollars into their banana hammocks. We had even written our phone numbers on the bills, because we were such hot shit. Imagine my mother’s surprise when I got a phone call a few days later. She was PISSED after taking a message from some stripper who admitted he got the number off a dollar bill…
Not enough Big Dick Richie. Not enough DICK in general – just one likely prosthetic peen in a penis pump. A good amount of jiggling buns and oiled up pecs. Lots of boobies.
I gagged every time that Tarzan was onscreen. He looked like Mickey Rourke in Iron Man 2. Blech.
I was confused by the end of the movie. It just fucking ended like they ran out of film. It felt like blue balls – the film was working towards some kind of resolution, but nothing was resolved. Like my BFF said, Magic Mike is basically Boogie Nights with Male Strippers instead of Porn Stars. Male Strippers can’t get Small Business loans and get sucked into bad drug deals. Wahhhhhhhh.