As a functioning member of the female species I must take this time to admit that like my fellow XX chromosome sisters, I too suffer from the curse, the proof of Eve's weakness, the period. I know, I know, I still cringe at the thought of my third grade health class when a wrinkly nurse with halitosis broke out a suitcase full of maxi pads and graphic pop up books about women bleeding for seven days without dying. There's no way around it, menstrual cycles may be embraced by radical feminists as a beautiful act of our prowess as birthgivers and a sign of our transition into womanhood...but we know that's all a load of shit. Periods are gross. They're icky, they're inconvenient, they make you irritable, the cause you to retain water, they instill mood swings that would make All About Eve look like a romantic comedy, and cause debilitating stomach contractions that make ripping a uterus out with your bare hands sound like a pleasure cruise. Periods. Frackin'. Suck. This past weekend, my two best friends joined with my partner in crime, Zach Shildwachter, and myself endured 105 minutes of a film that I will pray to the holy lords of Tampax to erase from my memory. J. Douglas Smith's feature film The Period is about a girl named Sharrie Heiman (yes, you read that correctly) who finds herself afflicted with an intense visit from her Aunt Flo. The film surrounds her struggle to plug it up with her pissy Georgia O'Keefe art inspired girlfriend Clitoria (I can't make this shit up), the obsessions of a perverted gynecologist, and other horrifying issues full of menstrual mayhem. This film is a clustercuss of terrible camera work, horrendous acting, unintentionally brilliant puns, atmosphere resembling the love child between an acid trip & The Tim & Eric Awesome Show, editing that appears to have been completed by blind children with safety scissors, music that even Justin Beiber dubstep aficionados would cringe at, and more fake blood than anything Peter Jackson ever touched. I wish I was exaggerating about all of this, but I'm not. I'm really, really not.