I Don’t Care About Your Band, in which she recounts a veritable fail-parade of romantic encounters—like “please alert the FEMA clean-up crew” bad, not “oh, he didn’t pull out my chair for me at dinner” bad.I just finished reading Julie Klausner’s profane, hilarious new memoir
But what stuck with me was how associated her cavalcade of chronic masturbators, obese cheaters, and all-around nutballs was with certain movies, music, and TV shows: making out to Glengarry Glen Ross; believing a shared teenage love of Kids In the Hall and They Might Be Giants = true love 4ever; recoiling at a smelly boy bedroom filled with Star Wars paraphernalia or Family Guy DVDs.
For various heinous and highly subjective reasons, I can’t listen to the Bangles’ “Eternal Flame,” (junior high, your cuts run deep), hear a certain sitcom theme song, or watch the otherwise perfectly nice Merchant Ivory movie A Room With a View without wanting to stab myself in the eye with a plastic spork. I know you’ve got your own date-related pop-culture Waterloos, PopWatchers. Please share the ugly in our comments section below.