by Uzodinma Okehi
He rapes a guy, plastic dildo. Fifteen minutes in, you’ve got that, he forces this pimp to swallow a gold Rolex. Choking and barfing. Then your four- minute, erotic scene, extended cut, set to music, dude fingers some Japanese girl on the subway. Bro, all synth. No lyrics . . . If you know, you know, right? Classic. But those films, even at the time, that they were basically considered trash. Sometimes that’s all I think about. Life like that. A whole career, scraping the B-list, C-list, grinding on straight garbage. Not like you’re the king of garbage either. No spin on it. No redemption. Just some lame-ass, middle-aged actor dude. In your trailer, staring at the mirror. Man, collar popped.