Showgirls Lives On

Those of you who know me, know that Showgirls is up there on my most favourite films list. Simply so bad it's good. There are several other contenders to the 'throne', but so far nothing comes close. Bad script, bad direction, bad acting, gratuitous nudity, and LOTS AND LOTS of 'jazz hands'.

So what does an attractive vivacious young lady with ALOT going for her do on a Saturday night? Why host a 'Showgirls' party for herself and fellow female flatmate - Thomas (another lady who has alot going for her but alas is married).

We decided to watch and partake in the Showgirls drinking game. With UNFORGIVING rules which go:

If someone says "dancin'," take a drink.
If someone says "darlin'," take a drink.
If someone makes jazz hands, take a drink.
Whenever Elizabeth Berkley smacks something (whether person or inanimate object), take a drink.
Whenever someone falls down, everyone must do a shot.

I had orchestrated the evening to perfection.
That is, I had bought the movie, hired a mystery shit movie and set the dress code (all attendees must wear sparkles).
I had my outfit set. Thomas had gone and bought coloured glitter glue. We had enough alcohol to render the most hardened alcoholic comatosed.

Then the drinking began.....and didn't stop.....

Thomas ended up talking on the porcelain phone. I ended up passed out in front of the mystery shit movie (which to Thomas's disgust was Glitter with Mariah Carey). Thomas burst a blood vessel in her eye from the intense 'conversation' she had with the toilet.

So I guess once again its a story of Showgirls - 1, lucid non-suspecting law-abiding citizen - 0