I want to make a Cheesy Chick Flick that becomes the anthem for those who have no interest in the Super Bowl. Admit it...Sleepless in Seattle is cheesy and yet....I have fallen prey to its mesmerizing call - like that of the seductive siren of mythological lore - at least a dozen times....ok, more like two dozen but who's counting? Point is....every time a Major Testosterone Fest is being televised the counter attack is always "Sleepless in Seattle".
Why didn't I write this one (or any other one for that matter)?
Are we that easily pacified?
Apparently so.
Ok...here comes the part where Meg Ryan is peeling the apple and listening to the little boy on the radio talk about how lonely his dad is and....oh, I can't type any more with the stupid tears in my eyes.
Stupid chick flick.
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