Drive in last night. With Hunky, Kitty and Sal. Preceded by Mexican food on a ghetto patio. One last kick at the best series of summer nights since England's incomparable summer of '76.
"Straight Out of Compton" was up first. One of the best music pictures I recall seeing. After it was over, when we were outside stretching our legs beneath the moonless Canadian view if the universe, Hunky weighed in between shots of tequila. "Could have edited a good 20 minutes out of it," he figured. I guess Hunky was right except they would have cut out about 100 utterances of one my favourite motherfucking cussing words if that much of a very cool movie was left on the cutting room floor, motherfuckers.
After we had honked our horns at the wiener jumping into the bun a couple times "American Ultra" was up. Not my thing to be honest. Was interesting if you are into philosophy, as I am, however. Lots of questions about identity to be had here for my fellow philosophy professors. Cool soundtrack too. Above average drive in fare.
Fuck of a lot of killing.
Sonja did not think it was that great either so we had a farting contest. Mexican food guaranteed it would be a contest that would go a good 12 rounds.
Sonja won.
Like usual.
Knocked me out.
She farts like a Hells Angel's old lady.
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