If you were thinking about seeing the indie film Juno and/or joining Facebook

Might I suggest that you instead pay three syphilis-ridden prostitutes to whip you with rusty razor wire while playing Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music on repeat in the background? Trust me, it will be a lot more enjoyable.

I am in no way qualified to offer movie critiques but just like any chimp that has had a three hour internet training course, I will offer my thoughts on the cinematic innards trail that is Juno.

Let's start with the Kimya Dawson soundtrack. That's right, she's the less listenable half of the Moldy Peaches. I can handle one song. Maybe. The entire movie? Nope, no thanks.

But the dialog of the entire movie leaves me begging for more Kimya Dawson to drown out the verbal diarrhea of hip indie culture hipster references. It's like Pitchfork became a person and then wrote a screenplay. STOP TALKING ABOUT SONIC YOUTH. PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT THE MELVINS. PLEASE DON'T MENTION IGGY AND THE STOOGES ANYMORE. PLEASE LEAVE DARIO ARGENTO OUT OF THIS.

I like those things. I don't need to be hit in the face with them. And speaking of being hit in the face with them, that's what this movie is. It's Facebook: The Movie! I refuse to use Facebook because I don't want to be poked, super poked, made to answer trivia questions, be given a dancing avatar of my favorite cast member from Ghostbusters or be reminded that today is Canadian Penny Collectors Day! Juno's kind of the same way. Hey, you like jokes about fuddy duddy parents who wear sweater vests and collect pictures of dogs? I got you some good stuff over here. What about the sheer hilarity of the image of a pasty legged gawky teenage boy in running shorts? Does that make you laugh? Well, buckle up Edda Mae because you're gonna get a dozen chances to giggle. Does someone talking on a novelty phone that is maybe shaped like some type of food or any other wacky object send you into convulsions of laughter? Better take your meds before the movie starts then. Are you still 15 and get really excited when people mention the name of a band that you like that you genuinely believe are obscure and speak to your teenage soul? Better see this movie before you realize that lots of other people know about that band too.

Movies work mostly because the audience sympathizes or roots for the central character if even in a minor way. Even No Country For Old Men somehow makes you dig a maniacal killer if only for his hairstyle and choice of footwear. But no character in recent memory has annoyed me as much as the title character in Juno. She's so spunky, anti-authoritarian and intelligent that she can use such big words and have such widely varying interests. However, all it takes for her to run screaming from an abortion clinic is the vague thought that her fetus may have fingernails. I know the word "abortion" must not be spoken nor dealt with in movies and to Juno's credit, it's the hippest pro-life film I have seen in ages! I sure do hope American Apparel makes onesies.

All in all, this movie was slightly better when it was called Ghost World and didn't involve teen pregnancy. I still love Michael Cera all the same though.