It's a handkerchief.

Beautiful.

Fuck yeah, Talk Radio. One of the best "going through the discount DVD rack at Walmart at 1 am back in college" purchases I ever made. What a cast.

My father spent years as a firefighter, and he always maintained that, up until the episode where the crew has a literal dick-measuring contest, it was the most accurate depiction of life among those guys that he'd ever seen.

In the audience.

Yeah, thing is, that flat, affect-less delivery? That IS what he wants.

Every time the movie is mentioned, I come back to Wallflower's precision burn/cry of frustration: Watchmen is Zach Snyder's passion versus his lack of intelligence, and passion ALMOST won.

Know what's gonna stowaway on that spaceship?

"Hey buddy, let me tell you something. My daddy died for that flag."

"When Cohle is stealing the coke from the evidence lock-up, if it looks like it was just way too easy, that's because back then, it was."
—Nic Pizzolatto

I'm pretty sure I cried the first time I watched it. The sections with Waylon Jennings were just brutal.

"If you ever wanted to wear a dick on your face in a movie, Tusk is the fuckin' movie to do it in!"

King has never for a second been ashamed of how he makes his living, and I can't help but love that about the guy. Until evidence to the contrary is presented, I'm going to assume his house is also honeycombed with secret passages.

Yeah, my father in law loves the movie, but the reasons he gives for loving it are basically the opposite of the ones you'd hope for.

I read some profile of King where the author mentions meeting him in his office at a nondisclosed location, because, while many authors attract loony fans, can you even imagine the kind of loony fans that STEPHEN KING must have?

A lot of people were hoping for something like that.

Is the original ending available somewhere? I know Hill has said he originally wrote something much more depressing and downbeat, an ending that he was artistically committed to up until his mom told him he should really change it.

She lives up to it.

“Some Memories of the Great Gene Wilder”
by Tom Straw

Chris Brown ain't no Robert Mitchum.