I re-discovered Trimmdiddy this summer. he came back from school, drank all day, and went to the movies with me. I know, not too different than before. except now, I was drinking with a MAN! Guiness and sprite when you get back, baby. If my kidney doesn't fail first (sadly, not a joke...)
make Will eat the pants candy!
During our (Sara and myself) first official
Spring Break cigarette run, we saw
Justin Trimm walking along the sidewalk
of Broad Street. You'll never understand
the warmness that filled my heart during
this time period. Maybe that warmness
is just the beer that's leaking out... but,
regardless, it was certainly fantastic.
Trimm and I have our ups and downs,
but I'd still drive to North Carolina to
through a brick through the window of
some asshole's car for Trimm. We
share that sacred battle bond; we're
talking some real Henry the Fifth St.
Crispin's day band of brothers shit. One
day, if we make it to the spring term,
we'll open up a resteraunt together. Or
at least pull off a heist together, orignal
E-O-Eleven style.
Gather round, boy. Hear the tale of George A.
Romero's Monkey Shines. A wise nephew of
mine once compared it to The Talented Mr.
Ripley, except with a monkey instead of Matt
Damon (who looks like a male Hillary Swank,
and vice versa...but i digress) but what My
nephew missed was this simple fact that places
the Shines in a small spot of superiority... Ripley
has no scenes of exposed brains, and Shines
does. Also, Ripley has NO dead monkeys, and
Shines has AT LEAST one.
Thus concludes todays lesson in DEAD
MONKEYS ALWAYS MAKE FOR A BETTER
FLICK: 101. I'm sorry, but this rule stands, even
though it means we have to say things like
"Outbreak is a better film than Taxi Driver. If only
Travis Bickle had killed an ape...
make Will eat the pants candy!
Spring Break cigarette run, we saw
Justin Trimm walking along the sidewalk
of Broad Street. You'll never understand
the warmness that filled my heart during
this time period. Maybe that warmness
is just the beer that's leaking out... but,
regardless, it was certainly fantastic.
but I'd still drive to North Carolina to
through a brick through the window of
some asshole's car for Trimm. We
share that sacred battle bond; we're
talking some real Henry the Fifth St.
Crispin's day band of brothers shit. One
day, if we make it to the spring term,
we'll open up a resteraunt together. Or
at least pull off a heist together, orignal
E-O-Eleven style.
Romero's Monkey Shines. A wise nephew of
mine once compared it to The Talented Mr.
Ripley, except with a monkey instead of Matt
Damon (who looks like a male Hillary Swank,
and vice versa...but i digress) but what My
nephew missed was this simple fact that places
the Shines in a small spot of superiority... Ripley
has no scenes of exposed brains, and Shines
does. Also, Ripley has NO dead monkeys, and
Shines has AT LEAST one.
Thus concludes todays lesson in DEAD
MONKEYS ALWAYS MAKE FOR A BETTER
FLICK: 101. I'm sorry, but this rule stands, even
though it means we have to say things like
"Outbreak is a better film than Taxi Driver. If only
Travis Bickle had killed an ape...