Sex and the City 2 is the Ice Cream Headache You Know You Wanted

Jeremiah Moss, of Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, summarized the reviews of Sex and the City 2 quite elegantly:

We cannot stomach another moment of the simpering, mincing, hair-tossing, and eyelash-batting of this epic eyesore, a desperate and grating exercise in pointless tedium dedicated to the screeching audacity of delusional self-importance and starring the drab four–flyweight bubbleheads living in a world in which their defining quality is consuming things.

After seeing the film this past weekend, I totally agree. By the end of SATC2 I could not stomach another moment of that horrid gaggle of gulling gals.

But… I also know this: finding that out on my own was So. Totally. Worth it!

Like an ice cream headache, Sex and the City 2 was pain I knew I wanted. Call me a masochist (well, call me a lot of things), but with Sex and the City (1) still fresh in my mind, I had no illusions about how awful the whole thing wasn’t going to be — I knew it would be absolutely, delightfully awful.

And it did not disappoint. If you love to hate yourself — and who doesn’t, every once and a while — go see SATC2 today!