this is the best synopsis of why I don’t watch chick flicks, ever, unless they’ve come with at least two recommendations from guys (who have been carefully vetted not to be chick-flick victims. Sorry Dad, I love you, but you are WAY too prone to think Fried Green Tomatoes was actually watchable without symptoms of nausea).
Note that this is in a post where the author actually recommends a chick-flick:
I mean movies like Premonition, in which (spoiler coming, but you don’t want to see it anyway) the wife foresees that her husband is going to die, which he is going to do because he is going to cheat on her, but he doesn’t because he loves her too much after all, but he is killed anyway, fate being what it is, but fortunately he has just bought a fat new life insurance policy so the wife gets to buy a big new house. The end. I wonder who thought that one up.
Gee, I wonder?