Two Girls One cup

As a 60 year-old man I am virtually in the dark when it comes to mastering or understanding the continuously rolling thunder of modern technology. As you see, my current computer is a wood burner and my cell phone has a crank on the side of it. Needless to say, most technological innovation including the comings and goings of the captains of that industry fall on deaf ears, namely mine. I have even less knowledge when it comes to parsing out the latest gossip of even the most famous habitués in our culture so it is no wonder that I was clueless regarding a fragrant little Internet startup called Two Girls One Cup.

I had been informed of this site a few weeks prior by an acquaintance with tertiary stage syphilis allowing me to give it no purchase until I stumbled upon it one night after an exhaustive search for actual cups. Apparently, the site has been up for sometime and if it wasn’t for my interest in acquiring new vessels for potables I would still be in the dark that our society as we know it is not only scraping the bottom of the barrel, but breaking through it to the muck on the other side. Two Girls One Cup is a site that appeals to an under served constituency of such low derivation that after watching 20 seconds of it you know immediately what it would be like to work at a Dairy Queen in Berlin.

To encapsulate the story, one of the two girls pretends she’s a soda jerk and the other a soft serve machine. Once the cup is filled with the flavor of the day they look longingly into each other eyes and proceed to enjoy the nasty Spackle with unusual gusto and verve. Ironically, the scene had an air of romance to it, and I was half expecting the soft server to present the other with a friendship ring to commemorate this German exercise in community. The only thing missing in this piquant little melodrama was the gang from the local fraternities and sororities arriving with the huzzahs of teen bonhomie punctuated by the ordering of large x-rated parfaits. Astoundingly, the acting was better than initially anticipated and I absolutely believed that the motivations of each dookie fresser were true to the clip’s limited story arc.

 I analyzed this v-curio in a specially constructed woodshed that only could be opened from the inside to avoid contamination from the prying eyes of neighbors and the FBI which allowed me the unencumbered time to do the due diligence it richly deserved. For a month I eyeballed Two Girls One Cup frame by frame using modern techniques usually reserved for more vaunted historical ephemera like the Zapruder film, but the former champ of recherché subterranean arcana “Brown”, the story of a shit loving, biker gang, a VHS tape perpetrated on me by a gay mentalist with the name of The Amazing Crisco had nothing on these shise essen chicks when it came to enjoying the Captain’s log. 

These girls had found a niche as we like to say in my niche of the woods and I especially admired the way they also had managed to buck 250 thousand years of natural selection in the process.  Two Girls One cup is a rag to riches story, as two girls after childhoods of obviously horrific toilet training, take matters and matter into their own hands and parlay it to the top of the dung heap of American entrepreneurship. True, the narrative lacks the vision of a Federico Fellini or even a Russ Meyer, but what it lacks in nuance it more than makes up for with an enthusiastic medley of summer corn and Spanish peanut skins.