What did you guys think of Brooklyn?

What did you guys think of Brooklyn?
I can't believe she didn't get the oscar for such an amazing performance
I cried when she was finally reunited her husband and I'm a 38 years old trucker who fucks STDs ridden prostitutes on a daily basis

>could have had a nice life in Ireland
>instead her grandkids are probably Long Island trash now

Italian guy was a better choice than the faggy irish life

I thought Saoirse was good in it but the res of the movie was eh.

I don't know why I didn't like even though it has this throwback to 1950s romance films that I really like myself.

Also she did everything wrong and pick the wrong guy.

test

Everybody knows that only uglies receive academy awards.

literally perfect

I liked when she was seasick on the boat and couldn't get into the bathroom because it was locked, so she had to shit in a bucket loudly. I related to that.

...

Overrated Disney movie.

It was the ultimate comfy Saoirse movie, ahead of The Lovely Bones and Hanna.

I wonder if we'll ever get a comfy Saoirse movie again. The future is uncertain, user.

cute new sersha thanks user

Very well done for being a low budget movie, proof it was all heart

>tfw no ultrapale gf
;_;

WHY IS SHE OUTSIDE SHES GOING TO RUIN HER PERFECT PALE SKIN REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GETINSIDE GET INSIDE GET INSIDE

when will she play an irish viking slave girl?

>seahorsey being raped
>comfy
nigga pls

LadyBird could also be comfy user.

>that thigh gap
WEEEEEEEW MY LADDIES

Saoirse is a literally perfect woman.

but she didn't do a rape scene

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

>swn give you a two fingered gloved handy after a month locked in chastity
;_;

...

why didn't she just throw it at the sea instead of carrying that inside her room?

>Saoirse Ronan
>IRA NEARS SOON

I will never pretend to be interested in acting and go along to her little auditions in the hope that later that night she wants to reward me for being so progressive by squatting over my mouth and laying a 40cm long putrid, yellow turd on top of my closed teeth and then using her gnarled clumpy mass of pissy, cheesy pubic hair to smear the shit all over my teeth and wipe it back and forth like a toothbrush crafted in the depths of sexual hell while she shakes psoriasis flakes over my throbbing bugleboy

Saoirse would be disgusted and would never think of such a thing!

It sounds like you've had quite the experience user

what the fuck is 60 year old don draper doing there?

I draw the line at pissing

I'd fucking whisper tenderly in Saoirse Ronan's ear that I love and appreciate her. Then I'd work my way down to her frontbottom, kissing all over. I'd suck and slobber on her sluggy pisswhippets until there was gallons of thick congealed quim paste oozing from her stinky whallop wound. I'd ram my average sized penis in her inviting gowl until I explode a quart of rancid wallpaper paste up the side of her supple bristols. Then I'd cut off her nipples with a penknife and sing the theme tune to Who's The Boss. I wish I could live a languid existence in the puckered folds of her crimpballoon and feast on the sweat from between her peachy fartclappers. I would love to collect a year's worth of oozing churngrool from her piss-stink scrambled fleshflaps. I would use this to drown myself in so that I may be reborn in the bounteous spendings of her hanging slimeslot. I would love to be reborn as her son so I could latch greedily to her bulletnosed floppleberries and drink the sweet titwag manna long into my teens until I had transformed into a large beetle that could scuttle shamefully up her shitsnip and lay eggs in her wondrous bitchwomb. I'd love to seal her heaving, naked form in a large bubble and have her writhe about in distress, begging to be released, but receiving only electric shocks for every time she refuses to wiggle her furry fartbeaver in my direction while I stroke my prick proud. When I cannot take it anymore, I will do a handstand against the bubble, clenching by buttockfundament tightly so as to form a passage that could ice a cake with wet cement. Then I would unleash a fart so pointy that the bubble would pierce as I collapse on my prize as it flails about under a crinkled mass of plastic and I position myself so that I am humping hungrily against her blubbery botrump. I would love to cut off her arsebuttocks and lick her seeping botmuscles. I'd cube the buttockmeat and drizzle with olive oil.

...

Then I'd fry with red onion, garlic, jalapeno, chorizo and a glug of cabernet sauvignon. Then, bring the plate to my bed and strip off until I look like an uncooked sausage. I'd lie in bed eating and masturbating hard. When I was finished then I would take a family of timid Asians hostage. I'd love to live as a tampon stuck up her pussbucket, I'd stay there for years becoming diseased and churning around in pus, blood and sexjuice. I'd make a rich soup from her collected teenage periods and drink it while hang-gliding into a monastery. I'd shove my mother, grandmother and the complete set of interviewees featured in Claude Lanzmann's harrowing documentary film about the Holocaust, Shoah, down a flight of stairs, just to take a bus to within a mile radius of a bench which a gust of wind from the sundress of the hospital sanitary assistant who disposed of the medical waste capsule containing remnants of the placenta of Saoirse's first-born child wafted towards as she walked by.

THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE

Oh my! Your comment inspires delightful thoughts in my cranial boxhold of a gameshow I only wish I could play, called Saoirse's Pickle! I imagine myself in a shiny studio taking part in the filming of the one and only episode of this show, a privilege granted to me by finding the golden ticket in a chocolate bar, the only ticket in the world that Saoirse wiped back to front on her quim in order to scent it with the glorious musk of her slimy beefstrap o'mystery! Upon finding myself taking part in this show, I must concentrate all powers afforded to me by my faculties to answer ten questions about the history of Saoirse's glistening cunt. A subject I have studied for many years, leaving me with an intimate knowledge of every single fold and dimple on her twatpurse. I even know all meandering curvatures and sweaty avenues of her taint! On the first wrong answer: death by hanging to the sad sound of a swanee whistle! On answering all ten correctly, I will tell you now. A door rises on the far side of the stage and a chair is risen upwards from the ground. On this chair is our Hibernian Cuddlebunny, with legs akimbo, hoisted on all manners of fiendish straps and chains so as to afford onlookers a direct view up the extremites of her cuntpumple. Emma Watson is brought to me, impaled on a spike entering her shitbutton and exiting forcefully through her beautiful feminist duckhouse.

she is still alive, but grateful to be involved in this intimate dance with Saoirse's belching pussy. I gingerly slice away Sophie's face with a knife as I ready myself to take the prize. I strip off my pantaloons and bare my purple prickstick for all to see, as I place Sophie's soggy faceflesh over my own, so as to resemble the daring English Rose as we enter the final erotic chapter of this awesome tale. I crawl on all fours, closer and closer to the spread legs of this weird fuckin lookin bitch, my eyes fixed at all times upon the prize of her wooded gashpastry. As I approach, to rapturous applause, the putrid stench of Saoirse's quimcheese, churned in her hairy cuntbarrel for months in preparation for this day, makes my mouth water. I finally reach the object of all my desires and pounce, like a jaguar with a lit firework up it's jacksie, to feed enthusiastically on her cheesycookie. I replenish my lifeforce on the altar of her electric puss. As I sweep my hands across her bap puppies, twiddling her nipples like Jean Michel Jarre while having a stroke, I live, die and exist on all planes as the universes folds in upon itself.

...

STOP

>Ireland
>Nice life

It's melancholy with more grass.

>Movie called Brooklyn
>Zero hipsters with ironic mustaches smugly talking about how they are vegan with their Tumblr feminist gfs and trying to get me to go vegan in line at the whole foods even though I don't know them or their shitty transsexual kid that smells like an organic diaper filled with hummus and keeps stealing candy at the checkout and the guy who is checking us out has a thousand yard stare like he just finished his third tour of duty in Nam and maybe tonight will be the night he finally pulls the trigger when he puts the gun in his mouth in his one room studio walk up apartment

What an unrealistic crock of SHIT.

Was shitting boring and predictable.

>I made you steak & guinness pie, user. I thought maybe after dinner we could try for another baby?

CHECKED

If people wanted to see that, they would go to actual brooklyn