What I wouldn't give for a large sock, filled with manure
So on the way out of Knocked Up last night (which by the way is one of the best and funniest movies I've seen in years -- NO cliches, super-sharp writing, acid & sweet in equal measure, just seriously hilarious and great, you should totally see it asap), we were in the elevator in the parking garage with a guy (love child of Conan O'Brien and Jay Mohr) and his girl (very pretty twenty-five-ish Asian/Indian chick).
Apparently they'd just been to see Pirates of the Caribbean, cause he asked her, prefatory to some other remark, if she knew who Keith Richards is.
No. No, she didn't. At all. Total blank.
Who the fuck doesn't know who Keith Fucking Richards is?
Apparently they'd just been to see Pirates of the Caribbean, cause he asked her, prefatory to some other remark, if she knew who Keith Richards is.
No. No, she didn't. At all. Total blank.
Who the fuck doesn't know who Keith Fucking Richards is?
Labels: cryin' amazacrazy, Jesus H. Christ in a sidecar drinking tequila, things that are bad for the world
posted by Gleemonex at 1:47 PM
1 Comments:
It's a cultural thing. I met a guy from Ecuador the other day who had no idea who Babe Ruth was. Who doesn't know who Babe Ruth was?
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