Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Fuck. So anyway, I’m watching cool hand luke over the last few days, and the second banana from naked gun won an academy award, and the broad at the library made a point of mentioning to me that other peeps at the brery were on a paul newman kick and that she didn’t see the draw, ya know, the jenny say kwah, of him, yes, the salad dressin general, and, I dunno, but the flick, it’s like, the ultimate not giving a fuck guy, yet he does.
Not sure. It’s like, say at a certain point you just said fuck it. And then, suddenly, there was something out there that suddenly mattered, or didn’t matter, I dunno. And for whatever reason, all you wanna do is fight, and then those self same people that you fight with, you wanna make nice, I dunno, but just suppose.
Then also suppose, and this is totally unrelated to the flick, at least in what so far I have seen, you encountered your total alter ego, but the antithesis, I mean, it was like, this person was the total polar opposite of what you were yet could do everything you could do, but had a heart of stone, everything you cared for, he wanted to destroy, and say he killed your one true love, and eventually you got over it, moved on, etcetera acres, and then you’re all engaged again, and he comes around again, and tries to off the new person in your life, just as you’re about to make it all official, I mean, you’d off the sumbitch, yah? Therein lies the drama.