Wordsmoker

It's hard to describe how nauseous this stupid fucking film makes me. But, let's try. I've never eaten an oyster, so I've never had the chance to eat a bad one, so I'm guessing it's kinda like that – eating a bad oyster. Eating a bad oyster after a week-long taco diet, with each taco not expelled in the usual way, but stored in my stomach cavity like a hamster hoarding sesame seeds. And all the tacos were bad.

So – to re-cap – I've had a week long diet of bad tacos, and now I've ate a bad oyster, and my stomach is churning away like a badly-balanced washer on high speed, and I don't know which end it's all going to come out from. Turns out it's both ends, and I just make it to the bathroom in time to splatter the walls with fecal matter so hard the splashback covers me in fecal matter while I hurl the recently eaten bad oyster and taco at no little speed towards the general direction of the toilet bowl. The splashback from the bad oyster/taco vomit now covers the splashback from the fecal matter, and in moments I'm coated in high-powered shit and vomit to point where it looks like I'm a man-sized slug oozing a large trail of awful from every available orifice. My poor asshole is on fire and still burping up bits of god-knows-what while my throat and mouth feel like I've just pleasured a long-staying, thoroughbred stallion with issues. The bathroom floor, walls and ceiling are a sulphurous mess of man-guts and pity-poops, and I want to die.

That's as about as close as I can describe it.

Maybe throw in getting hit in the balls by a medium-sized car too.

Anyway – here's hoping the CIA tracks down everyone involved in this production and sends them to some unidentified country (Belgium) where they're waterboarded using stale piss and fishbits, because if there's anything out there more "pro-terrorist atrocity" then I've yet to see it.