Rudy Ray Moore wants you to know he's successful with women, and he thinks "insinuation" is something people do when they're impotent. If he wishes to imply a lady likes him, the only reason you don't see shaft is because the cameraman can't get the lens into the molecule-thin gap between his crotch and the refurbished prostitute/actress impersonating a face-shaped vacuum cleaner.

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The only time any of the women in the film look comfortable on screen is when they're licking people. I tried to imagine a life so tragic that the best moments in it are licking Rudy Ray Moore, which is why I'm dictating this article to the suicide negotiator on the street 10 floors below me. This remains the only movie I've ever seen where a full backhand slap is the most romantic gesture. And this is a real full on pimp-slap (as in "Oh, THAT'S why pimps are considered a cross between humanity and sewage"). Of course, in the world of Dolemite, this always leads immediately to sex. Horrific, horrific sex.



Stephen King once had a nightmare like this but was too scared to write about it.

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A still image really doesn't capture the horror, and because I'm not Cthulhu I can't put it into words. I was going to make a GIF until I remembered my strict vow of "NOT measurably increasing the amount of terror and pain in the world." I've seen more romantic scenes in Hellraiser. I don't know exactly how long the grunting goes on, because I was screaming the first time and will lose my remaining eye if I go back to check, but recall it being approximately Forever Times Torment.