Sexting in Suburbia is this generation’s Citizen Kane

For those of you who have never seen a Lifetime Original Movie, you’re missing out. Just a little background information for you here, but Lifetime movies are basically designed for the sole purpose of scaring passive-aggressive white housewives by showing all the ways their husbands, technology and sexuality will murder them and everyone they love.

Personally, I’ve always thought they reached their critical nadir with the opus that was My Stepson, My Lover, although I must admit a certain amount of fondness for the oft-overlooked gem that was Cyber Seduction: His Secret Life, a movie about how internet porn will kill your children. FOUR STARS, raves absolutely no one! But lo, did the frumpy, sexless busybodies over at Lifetime see fit to bless us with yet another movie about how technology is scary and confusing.

Fellow readers . . . may I present to you: Sexting in Suburbia!

Oh no. That warm feeling trickling down your pant leg is not shame, but rather a sense of cinematic splendour not seen since A Nanny for Christmas, the story of a family who got a nanny for Christmas! Can you believe those shenanigans? What a heartwarming story for white housewives, and only white housewives!

All right, here’s the basic gist of the movie, in case the giant fucking tombstone didn’t give everything away: mom and daughter are close, daughter starts sexting, daughter dies mysteriously, mom tries to find out who did it, and I’m assuming at some point she drinks white wine in a cardigan, mourns her daughter’s death in a candle-lit room, or goes grocery shopping for French bread.

Once again, if you want to watch the glorious camp that is pandering, paranoia-based propaganda clumsily disguised as women’s entertainment, catch Sexting in Suburbia on Lifetime! Then cancel your teenaged daughter’s cellphone contract before it gives her syphilis.

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