The Count of Monte Carlo

So at work at the theater the other day, a customer came up and asked my co-worker what Monte Carlo was about (it's that new Selena Gomez/Leighton Meester movie).

Co-worker: It's about this guy and his best friend and his girl, and the best friend betrays him to get with his girl, so the guy gets sent to a prison where he meets this old guy who teaches him how to fight and stuff.

Me: ...that's The Count of Monte Cristo.

Not that I wouldn't watch a movie where Selena Gomez betrays Leighton Meester, who then reinvents herself as a vengeful countess.

In fact, since this is Livejournal and probably a disturbing percentage of you are preteen girls, I'm just gonna ask straight-out... if I watch Monte Carlo, how shippy is Leighton Meester going to be with some person-of-ovaries? On a one to ten scale, with ten being any given frame from Sucker Punch and one being... oh, forget it.

Scrubs

Via Netflix... this show is somewhat unfunny and a little sad by the eighth season (JD/Eliot AGAIN? And must every "whacky" moment have that damn sound cue, just staggered on top of each other like fender benders in a multi-car pile-up?), but goddamn if they don't try to stay alive by aiming right at the femslash demographic. As if Denise isn't the shippiest female character in the show (JD compares her to Jo in The Facts of Life, and even I know that's more lesbian than a pantsuit on a Tegan & Sara CD), but they do an entire episode about her relationship with Sunny Day, the uke to her seme. Would it be totally gratuitous if they kissed? Yes. Does it happen anyway? Yes.