If any of you are worth an ounce, a shred, a microscopic hint of lint, you'll have the sense to have watched the epic and wonderful cult phenomenon that is BARBARELLA. You know, the one that they've been threatening to remake for years? The one when it was less common to see one of the bigger stars in movies be naked for the entire length of the opening credits (albeit all the good bits covered by the floating words, but still). It was Jane Fonda who encountered all kinds of nutty crap once she landed, finding that sex solved just about every problem that came her intergalactic way, even if it was with a machine, or a guy who had more chest hair than a California brown bear or a blind angel. (I bet if you haven't seen it yet, you probably want to now.) I see Victoria Justice
, here in London at a popular toy store signing boxes containing dolls that look like her "Victorious" character for all the wee ones and I just think... Jane Fonda. Writhing. Bloody teeth marks. Orgasmic sounding protests. Damn, that was a great piece of total movie garbage. I heart it so hard.
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