It’s the penultimate fucking installment of Sex And The City! I can’t believe it, what started after an idle thought between scratching my arse and playing Fifa has almost turned into a completed project. No more will I lay on my bed, thinking about whether it’s time to put the next disc in. I’m quite sad in a way, I fear finishing this will leave me with nothing to apart from examine my eyebrows in the mirror and contemplate where it all went right.
Carrie kicked us off by beginning to pack for her move to Paris. It seems that between the end of the last episode, and the start of this one, that Carrie and Miranda have made up, which leaves me wondering quite why they fell out at all. If you’re not going to make something out of it, then why bother? What was making things interesting was the reintroduction of Big into Carrie’s life yet again. After she was ignoring his calls, he proceeded to wait outside her building in his massive limo to try and woo her back.
It failed. At times like this, I have to think about whether the grass is always greener on the other side. In this instance, I’d have to say yes. Carrie has never seemed remotely at home with Alexander, whereas with Big the sexual frisson that erupts from their conversations is certainly a sight to behold. When she told Big that she was moving to Paris with the Russian, he was surprised, his toned facial muscles belaying a world of hurt, and a forlorn figure. Is this the end of the two of them forever? I’m sure there are a couple of Twilight fans who care a little bit.
Cory told Big to forget her name. Easier done than said.
There was tears as the girls made their farewells. Goodbyes are hard to deal with, whether it’s the gentle kiss as you say goodbye to your girlfriend as she departs your room, or the 1998 number one hit by The Spice Girls. It’s good to see that Carrie is taking her mole with her to France though.
Samantha was experiencing hot flushes as a result of her chemotherapy treatment for her breast cancer. She was asked to stand up and give a presentation at some kind of cancer shindig. The theme was ‘inspirational’, which knowing our Samantha would mean a lot of swearing, and copious amounts of references to anal beads.
Harry and Charlotte are apparently trying to adopt a baby! Why was I not told about this? Oh yeah, because I would have labelled it as a pretty fucking stupid idea and shot it right down.
Carrie arrived in Paris, attempting to speech the French language well, but sadly it just ended up sounding like a rapist trying to sweet talk a girl into bed. Convoluted. She met Alexander’s daughter, a haughty chain-smoking, closed-minded cunt, so you would have thought they’d have a lot to talk about given how much they had in common, but alas it wasn’t to be. More problems surrounded her, culminating with her falling asleep, alone in a hotel room in a massive dress. Reminds me of my own troubled youth, only with less stockings.
She then literally fell into Dior, spending thousands of pounds on tat she didn’t need, losing her ‘Carrie necklace’ in the process which had sentimental value to her. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she couldn’t get used to the Parisian way of life, walking the streets alone, not being able to appreciate the Gallic flair due to her deeply stupid brain. A phone call with Miranda ensued, with Carrie revealing that she couldn’t stop thinking about Big, which isn’t the most ideal of situations when you’ve moved halfway across the world with a different man.
Samantha’s speech went reasonably well, finishing with a group of terminally ill middle-aged broads proudly display their baldness for all to see. Sure, it sounds like the ideal situation for a young man to find himself in, but not when you’ve just eaten your dinner.
Big met up with Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte in an attempt to construct a plan for him to win Carrie back. He asked them for advice, to find out whether it was a sensible move going to Paris to woo her back when she could be extremely happy with Alexander. The girls told him to go and do it, their hatred for the Russian seeping out like the thrush stains of a dirty, filthy prostitute. A wise move? Perhaps. In that situation I think it’s only fair for your heart to overrule your head, you only get one life*, and so you should just do whatever feels right, bar sticking your cock in the comfy anus of an eleven year old boy. Because that’s wrong Gary, very wrong.
As he was asking, Alexander presented Carrie with a lovely diamond necklace. Despite the jewellery, she felt trapped, unable to appreciate the moment because of her wandering mind, and her desire for Big. Just what is going to happen friends? She needs an escape, but will one come?
*Unless you’re a div who believes in reincarnation.