Kevin Smith is a Silly Bitch

He is.

Just watched his third Q&A Documentary, Sold Out: A Three-vening with Kevin Smith, last night while stewing in my exhaustion/muscle relaxer haze, and laughed my tits off. It was much longer than the other two in the series, but doesn't suffer for it.

I, like many people my age, grew up on Kevin's movies. I still remember my jaw dropping during the "you sucked 37 dicks" scene of Clerks, or the Superman-Lois sex debate of Mallrats, or the fisting and fingercuffs in Chasing Amy. And don't get me started on Dogma. Brilliant. Period.

He has always been good for fantastic low-brow comedy mixed with dialogue that captures the beautiful banality of everyday conversation and elevates it to poetry. I refer you to The Fleck's and Jason Lee's speeches in Chasing Amy. But until I saw these documentaries, I never realized how truly gifted a comedian Kevin Smith is.

I refer to his many geeking out stories about Star Wars, and getting a private tour of the Battlestar Galactica set (where the producer stenciled a ship as belonging to Cpt. Silent as a tribute to Smith), and his in-depth analysis of just how boring Superman Returns was. Possible use of Super-roofies are involved!

But more than that, the man is fearless in discussing his personal life, and his many insecurities. Being recognized by the proctologist who diagnoses his anal fissure, looking like Humptey-Dumptey's butch lesbian aunt while trying on a custom built wet-suit, and the microscopic nature of his dick are all fair game for a man who has built a rabid following of fans by giving them constant access to his own musings and experiences.

If you have not seen any of his work, you are missing out on one of the funniest smartest cats in the business. Period.

Here endeth the electronic rimjob. You're welcome Kevin.