Sausage Party

Sociological structural semantics b/romantically ameliorate as a raunchy yet go-getting cornucopia of conditionals recalibrate unquestioned universals for slumbering succulent psychosubjects.

And the rooster cock-a-doodle-doos.

Okay, there's no rooster, but wow Bob wow I wasn't expecting to see a sustained critique of unacknowledged cast aside postmodern religiopolitical discourses hilariously unleashed in this sultry Sausage Party.

I knew nothing beforehand, only saw it accidentally, and was shockingly blindsided within.

But don't take my forlorn abstruse clarifications ;) as abstract proof of its spluttering legitimacy, view the film and adjudicate adroitly, celestially, to discover whether or not you detect within its reels invaluable collective conscience with an average of 99%.

Could Middle-Eastern tensions be lightened by enlivening sexual experimentation?

Is conscientious awareness maturely elevated through recourse to the ostensibly juvenile?

Is there a dubious state of affairs awaiting those who can't find work within globalized _______ sectors?

Can spiritual dream quests enlighten in lassitude both the lugubrious and the illustrious through the reflection of a savannah's steamy brays?

Can't answer these questions myself, but the hot dog and the bun do hook-up in Sausage Party, as the malevolent douche attempts to scour their union.

Like a comedic genius political scientist ate acid and went 'a grocery shopping, Sausage Party brilliantly utilizes the seemingly mundane to offer a scathing critique cloaked in ludic scatology.

Relishing.

I'm.