Sense and Sensibility

(You must read this with your best English accent)

I do suppose that by the worst stroke of ill fated luck I arrived to my estate this night to find my lady and sister viewing a most decrepit piece of cinema known as Sense and Sensibility. Decrepit was the chosen vernaclar because of its slow and deliberate pace involving the lives of two English ladies searching for a love. My thoughts are lost on whether they were in the end hosts to this love. Lost in the story I chose to lose myself into a deep slumber before the entertainment for the evening came to its ultimate conslusion.

Why must fair, lovely, modern ladies fill their senseless minds with such poppy cock. Rubbish, I say! At worst we, the people of the Pinkerton estate, should be entertaining their eyes with such things as Hitch, which in itself has so much love yet so much passion for the comedic arts. Yea, I say, Yea! Being scorned by love should have a much quicker, timely, and gentlemanly conclusion, and when I say gentlemanly what I mean is a piece of cinema with Will Smith and Kevin James, not Dr. House dressed in tight and rufflely English garb.