Uh, hell yeah I cried during "Rocky." Am I ashamed of it? No. He's like, the American dream personified. So if you think I'm a pussy for loving Rocky, then you hate America. Way to hate freedom, dick. What are you, French or something? Way to be French, Frenchy.




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Sometimes I get choked up when I'm proud. So what? If you didn't tear up when little Rudy made that tackle, then maybe YOU'RE the one with the problem. You probably just don't like football. Pansy. You think you can look down on me for shedding a VERY SMALL tear during a totally MANLY film when you don't even like football? I'll kick your ass. You probably like soccer or something.




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A little kid got shot. If you think that isn't worth crying for, then go ahead and make fun of me. But seriously, don't. I'll kill you. Dancing is tough as hell if you dance AT other people threateningly. Haven't you ever seen "Westside Story?" Those dudes stabbed people. Plus there were all these slowmo scenes where guys were dancing with their shirts off in the rain. If that's not tough, I don't know what is. They're not even slightly scared of hypothermia. They just let the rain roll down the crevasses of their hard, rippling bodies. Badass.



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Straight up, it's a dog that plays basketball. That's inspiring. He's breaking all kinds of convention and just following his dreams. It's sick as hell. Do you not like dogs or something, idiot? Are you a "cat person?" I have a special term for cat people. I call them "people who I can definitely kill in a fight cause I bench like 270." I've never seen a cat play basketball. Shit, cats probably can't even rollerblade.   



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SPOILER ALERT! Bernie's dead. I'm sorry I'm comfortable enough with my own sexuality (I make out with chicks like ALL the time) to weep for a man who lost his life. Maybe I'm a little afraid of death and think it'd be nice if two rad dudes took me around while I danced a bit. So? Are you completely comfortable with your own mortality? Cause if you are, I'm more than willing to put you to the test with my huge ass fists. I did a trial Muy Thai lesson like a month ago.




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"But dude, 'Space Jam' is a kid's movie. How can you justify crying?" Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize basketball games that decide the fate of the universe were for children. Yeah, there's no important life lessons to be learned at all. Except maybe for the fact that "Michael's Secret Stuff" is actually in all of us and all we have to do is believe and we can achieve anything? Right, that's not something to take to heart. JUST KIDDING, IT DEFINITELY IS. I should pummel you, but I won't.  You want to know why? Because this movie taught me something: We all need to stop acting like the Patrick Ewing Monstar and start acting a little more like Patrick Ewing.

Noodle that one for a while, douchebag.