As you might expect, Google Glass isn’t allowed in theaters anymore.


(I love it when an approp gif doubles as an example
In this case something worth not paying to see.)

I’m guessing they would’ve made it illegal from the start if there was an easier way to spot them. But since modern movie goer pirates rock four eyes instead’a one plus a patch, maybe that’s why the MPAA has taken so long to enforce this thing? Also, I have to wonder how anyone pirating with the GG’s can possibly enjoy the show. Any wiggling or ambient noise is gonna eff that film right up. You’ve gotta make like it’s your first day of Catholic School if you want your thievery entertainment to be decent quality: sit down, shut up, and stare straight ahead. I could get into the moral element of stealing, but I won’t. I mean, stealing’s bad, yes. But you know what’s worse? Movie’s like “Wolf of Wall Street” or “Frozen”. When I think of those, it was bad enough I saw them at all. The fact that someone else paid and sat through them for me?

That’s not crime. It’s canonization worthy.

Let me put it this way: if a movie’s any good, I’mma buy it whether or not I’ve “pre-screened” it complimentarily. When I saw Avatar not-in-theater, it was good enough for me not only to go see it again in a theater, but see the 3D version as well. I liked it that much (despite the Pocahontas in the sky element, yes, I was wowed by Avatar). So, how are we going to help our good Samaritan cinema stealers just trying to help us out? There are a few, but I’m gonna go with: putting ‘em on an old person.

I mean nobody’s gonna eff with grams or gramps’ specs, am I right? Poor old elderly lady in a shawl, just coming to the picture show on a Saturday evening in hipster eyewear. Nothin’ to see here. Except your run of the mill geriatric pupil piracy that’ll end up on Primewire later. The only drawback I can imagine is that when you finally get home and upload your pirated version to share with the interwebz, it’s gonna sound like a Bad Grandpa parrot accompanied the pirate uploader of your favorite RomCom to the theater that day.

“Why didn’t you write me? Why?”

(“WHO? WHO DIDN’T WRITE. ASHLEY, WHO DIDN’T WRITE HER? I’M CONFUSED!)

“It wasn’t over for me! I waited for you for seven years. But now it’s too late.”

(“WHAT’S TOO LATE? WHAT TIME IS IT?”)

“I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year!”

(“AH SHIT. I’VE SAT IN CHOCOLATE”)

“You wrote me?”

(“I SAID: I’VE SAT IN CHOCOLATE! AND IT LOOKS LIKE DIARRHEA.”)

“Yes! It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over…”

(“HELP ME GET THIS OFF MY PANTS, DEAR. LICK THIS NAPKIN FOR GRANNY.”)

(“NOW YOU’RE JUST SMEARING IT!

WE’VE GOT TO GO HOME. I NEED TO GET THESE OFF.

HAH! JUST LIKE THAT GOSLING BOY’S DOING IN THE PICTURE RIGHT N-

WAIT, WHERE’RE MY GLASSES?”)

MMyeah. Nevermind.

Can you imagine the estrogen infused teen uprising from being naked Noah-trolled?

I clearly need to rethink the parameters of my criminal plans here…