Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend
I was telling a friend about my second favorite film of all time, EVEN HITLER HAD A GIRLFRIEND, when I ran across Joe Bobb Briggs' online review. Joe Bob gives the low-down about this film - which tells the story of how one overweight loser spent his entire life savings on call girls in less than two weeks - better than I ever could. (Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend also spawned a tribute song by the punk band The Mr. T Experience and a comic book adaptation by Draculina Publishing.) Anyway, here it is, Joe Bobb's pick as best film of 1992!
Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend
By Joe Bob Briggs
Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas
We're in that time of the year that's EXTREMELY dangerous for lonely guys, the time right after it turns spring when all your hormones start doing the Watusi but every time you approach a woman they act like they suddenly have to wash their hair, do their laundry, and clean their furnace.
You consider a blind date.
DON'T DO IT! Never forget WHY they're "blind" in the first place--because ONLY a blind man would date em AFTER he saw em.
You drink eight Old Milwaukee Tall Boys and start considering a 900 number.
DON'T DO IT! Never forget WHY they're called 900 numbers--because you can't make a phone call without spending at least 900 bucks.
You consider a singles bar.
DON'T DO IT! Never forget the kind of guys who go to singles bars--guys like YOU! And never forget the kind of GALS who go to singles bars--gals who DON'T MIND being bird-dogged all night by 97 guys EXACTLY LIKE YOU.
You have experiences in those places that can depress you for months.
You consider a hooker.
There you go. Now you're TALKING. It's safe. It's a lot less pathetic than 900 numbers. Sometimes the women have actual personalities. And, unlike every other kind of male-female relationship, you always know the TOTAL PRICE upfront.
That's why I wanna make sure you guys that are feeling like three-legged toad frogs this year, and are likely to get into some kind of hooker-client relationship that tomorrow morning you'll act like you didn't get into because in your mind you've convinced yourself that you didn't do it even though we all know you did, including you--I want all you guys to clip out this article and carry it in your wallet everywhere. Because the following are the ten rules you can NEVER FORGET when dealing with a lady of the Professionalis Aardvarkus persuasion.
1. When you say "How much?" the answer should never be "How much do you want to spend?"
2. When you say "How much?" and she gives you prices for more than 15 different varieties of recreation, and you don't recognize at least half of them, politely ask to be excused. You could DIE here.
3. No matter what happens, never apologize. Act like that's what you MEANT to do.
4. Never call her a hooker. She'll think you mean she LOOKS or ACTS like a hooker. And every woman who looks and acts like a hooker, EVEN THE ONES WHO ARE HOOKERS, do NOT consider themselves hookers. It's a female thing. Trust me.
5. When she says "Are you a cop?" imagine you're going through the metal detector at the airport. Jokes will only get you in trouble.
6. If you ARE a cop, tell the truth. She'll never believe you.
7. More than 74,000 times a year, lonely pathetic guys like us pay additional money AFTER we're finished. It's that guilt thing. Hookers know this. You know it's coming when they say "Don't you have ANYTHING else?" If you fall for this, don't tell anybody.
8. Ask her if she's a cop.
9. If she comes to your house, when you open the door, say "Susan, it's so good to see you--is your mom all right?" This is because EVERYBODY is watching her. All the people you THINK are watching, ARE watching--and if you don't say this, you'll know how pitiful you are.
10. After it's over, when you REALIZE how pitiful you are, console yourself with the knowledge that men have been doing this for MILLIONS of years. Hookers know this, too.
And speaking of lonely pathetic existences, the best drive-in movie of 1992 is "Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend," the latest from Denver's one-man film industry, independent director Ronnie Cramer. Watch a chubby Omaha security guard in a lumpy golf shirt spend his entire life savings on call girls in less than two weeks!
Andren Scott is the actor who plays Marcus Templeton, a guy so depressed that he sits in his bathtub for hours with the phone sitting on the commode, trying to think of somebody to call. He eats frozen dinners and Slim Jims, watches porno strippers on cable in his underwear, buys a jar of "Reduce-o-cream" ("as safe as any garden vegetable") to make himself more attractive to women, tries to talk to women who are repulsed by him, considers a "Wonder Corset," wonders if someday he'll become a serial killer or whether he's currently insane, goes to the library to research the subject, and calls girls up for dates with opening lines like "We could go to lunch. There's a Sinclair station near your house that has sandwiches on sale for $1.49."
I think you can tell where this is leading--straight to the Yellow Pages section marked "Escort Services." Marcus gets so deep into hookeritis that pretty soon he's tape-recording his sessions, and about eight hookers down the road, he makes his fatal mistake: he buys a video camera.
How many times have I told you guys? It SOUNDS like a good idea, but talk to Rob Lowe first. Uh-uh. I don't think so.
Here's the real scary part. Ronnie claims that this movie is "99 per cent true."
This is one of the funniest goldurn movies I've ever watched, but it's probly not available in video stores or theaters, so if you want to order one from Ronnie, send me an SASE and I'll send you the order form: Joe Bob, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221.
We're talking 28 breasts. Six strippers. Eight hookers. Aardvarking. Brain in a jar. Butt tattoo. Frequent indigestion. Gratuitous Pee Wee Herman doll. Crab Fu. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Ronnie Cramer, the genius who previously directed the violent drug drama "Back Street Jane"; and Andren Scott, as Marcus Templeton, for saying "My heart is bound to explode if I keep eating like this" and "I could go buy something at the store--those people HAVE to talk to you" and "I wish I could safely pull out my heart and massage it" and "That chin is being swallowed up by the abyss once known as my neck" and "At least this is better than my last job, changing those aromatic urinal cakes" and "Am I going insane? I hope I'm just drunk" and "This is kind of expensive, but it'll be worth it to go out on a date" and "I should eat at home and save my money for call girls" and "Can I feel those?"
Joe Bob says check it out.