last night i did a bad thing. it was so bad, if i had been catholic, i would have gone to confession today and asked for penance.

i watched showgirls.

woefully awake, i found myself slouched on the couch wondering if it could be as bad as everyone had said. i had only seen it once so my mind blunted the tackiness. and then i saw it again.

what was it about this film that filled me with ICK? was it the awkward Tiffany-esque dancing? the bad dialogue, the putrid portrayals of women? the bad nail art, the breasts? the (bad)lap dancing? the girl on girl voyeurism? that messed up scene in the pool? the horrific sexual assault of nomi's best friend? joe ezterhaus?

it was kyle mclachlan: his kalimera olive spray-on tan, shark-like eyes and that weird Less than Zero haircut.

creepy creepy creepy.