I wonder if this is still the case, but how can it not be. I mean we obviously need to off some managerial higher-ups and regulatory who's-its. I'm watching the best John Cusack/ Minnie Driver/ Jimmie Piven film in existence, Grosse Pointe Blank. This thing is iconoclastic in both character image, homage, and soundtrack. If you have a dialogue like this, can you really go wrong in a non-commital, roguish type of film:
Debi: You know what you need?
Marty: What?
Debi: Shakabuku.
Marty: You wanna tell me what that means?
Debi: It's a swift, spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever.
Marty: Oh, that'd be good. I think.
So since tonight was a major holiday of the Anglo variety, I indeed happened to swing by the Library to see what was on simmer. It was pretty busy but not overwhelmingly with regulars of my vintage. I figured with the various Pagan/ Papal overtones interwoven with this day, I'd opt for the Trappists best, at least in the Norman sense which means a round of Chimays for the lads and lasses. This was in addition to a nice couple Pinots with my turkey and a quality porto with my pie. I could go on because last night I pined for a quality beer and got it but that was of the import variety and as you all know that is a different beast entirely than the Belgian subculture, but instead I will say that today was a fine day in central Oklahoma and though I'm icing various points throughout the legs, I had a pleasant day overall.
Debi: You're a psychopath.
Marty: No, no. Psychopaths kill for no reason. I kill for "money". It's a "job". That didn't come out right.
-------------------------------peace to all--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Debi: You know what you need?
Marty: What?
Debi: Shakabuku.
Marty: You wanna tell me what that means?
Debi: It's a swift, spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever.
Marty: Oh, that'd be good. I think.
So since tonight was a major holiday of the Anglo variety, I indeed happened to swing by the Library to see what was on simmer. It was pretty busy but not overwhelmingly with regulars of my vintage. I figured with the various Pagan/ Papal overtones interwoven with this day, I'd opt for the Trappists best, at least in the Norman sense which means a round of Chimays for the lads and lasses. This was in addition to a nice couple Pinots with my turkey and a quality porto with my pie. I could go on because last night I pined for a quality beer and got it but that was of the import variety and as you all know that is a different beast entirely than the Belgian subculture, but instead I will say that today was a fine day in central Oklahoma and though I'm icing various points throughout the legs, I had a pleasant day overall.
Debi: You're a psychopath.
Marty: No, no. Psychopaths kill for no reason. I kill for "money". It's a "job". That didn't come out right.
-------------------------------peace to all--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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