Many of you would be surprised that a pioneer of stage and screen like myself, does not enjoy the occassional trip to the theatre. Why you ask?

Most likely because of a cunt like yourself.

Theatres, and to be more specific, movie theatres are packed to the rafters with cunts. That is why I prefer to take my film viewing in at one of my many palatial estates, all in an effort to avoid the aforementioned cunts.

While many of you below the poverty line are unable to enjoy the safety of my virtual ivory tower, I have complied a profile of the types of cunts you may meet on your travels so you too may be able to avoid them. Below are a list of the variety of cunts you will most certainly find at the movie theatre:

The expert cunt. "Oh you have to see this movie in the theater!" Oh do I cunt? Frankly, I really don't. I own several High Definition Televisions that one, are larger than your home, and two, don't include your presence, cunt.

The gabby cunt. This cunt usually comes in a pair. They have no interest in actually viewing the movie they purchased their seat for, but would rather discuss an inane topic (usually focusing on their failed and irrelevant lives) with their cunt counterpart. Like all cunts in a theatre, they are selfish, but also borderline retarded as a coffee shop, or stoop would be a better locale for their trivial and meaningless exchange.

The cell phone cunt. This is a modern day version of the gabby cunt. While celphone technology is relatively new, the art of being a cunt is an age old tradition. The cell phone cunt has two minor variations. The first cunt is the one who forgets they are in a theatre, and doesn't shut off their telephone. Thus everyone's experience is momentarily put on hiatus until this cunt can disable the ringer, and hopefully the cell phone for the remainder of the film. The second cunt, actually answers the device, and has a conversation during the film, and like all cunts who own cell phones, they have to talk at a volume that defies logic.

The play by play cunt. This is perhaps the worst kind of cunt. This individual spends the entire film announcing painfully obvious phrases like 'Holy Shit did you see that!?' and 'Oh Man that was great!?' or 'I saw that coming from a mile away!' and must assume they are providing us some valuable service as no one else in the theatre could have possibly witnessed what they just did.

The trailer cunt. Preceding most films these days are endless projections of coming soon featurettes that delay the inevitable beginning of the movie you would like to see, and the sheer torture you will soon experience at the hands of all of these cunts. The trailer cunt is an appetizer of sorts to the rest of the cunts. This cunt will defiantly announce at the conclusion of every trailer either 'That looks great', or 'That looks like crap', as if we needed their approval, or even slightly valued their opinion.

The shoosh cunt. This cunt while meaning well, is trying to relive their glory filled Hall Monitor days by admonishing those around them for not strictly obeying the rules of said establishment. The shoosh cunt will verbally chastise anyone in breach of conduct in the theatre often making far more noise, and creating a much larger disturbance than the original cunt had. In most cases, the shoosh cunt will set off the offending cunt, creating a situation that will often bring the film going experience to an end.

The sorry I'm late cunt. The lights dim, the curtain raises, the movie starts.... and this cunt shows up. The sorry I'm late cunt, always makes their way into the theatre after the movie has begun, when it is impossible to navigate dark aisles without the assistance of echo-location, and always, always, always has to sit in your row and force you to rise from your seat, and miss precious seconds of the film. The sorry I'm late cunt will often evolve in the excuse me I need to use the bathroom cunt, and force you to get up twice more at least before the end of the picture. I personally enjoy tripping this cunt.

The newborn baby cunt.The attention span of most individuals maxes out at roughly seven minutes. For infants fresh from the womb (or cunt), that time rapidly decreases. So why bring your young child to a film that may last 2 hours (and heaven help us if it is a Costner movie)? Because you are a cunt. Moments into the film, this cunt will begin trying to assuage their little cunt with soothing words, food, beverage, the eventual stroll up and down the aisle, out the door, back in, up and down the aisle once more, in and out again, until finally the child explodes into a screaming raging monster and the cunt must leave, not however before ruining our movie-going experience.

The sex cunt. Ahh, the young couple in love, exploring one another's sexuality, truly a beautiful thing. Except when that exploration is occurring 2 feet in front of me you cunts. Nothing is more disgusting than pair of genetically absent cunts who are unable to secure a private room and rather than choose decorum, attempt reproduction in the row preceding mine.

This tragic list of cunts could go on forever, as I'm sure there are a multitude of new cunt species now thriving in today's palaces of the moving picture. I however have chosen to bid a farewell, which is far from fond to the theatre that has evolved into little more than a denizen of cunts.

This is the word of Caine.

Praise be to Caine.