A&D Night

Wonderful, intoxicated morsels that dropped freely from my happy lips in one of the cheesiest, wackadoo films of the year . . .



I feel like a wolf. Like a hungry, desperate wolf. (followed by pawing of the ground and open howling inside the theater auditorium)

This is the Vatican Bank. We have Falco’s carriage and Hitler’s Benz. Could you please come pick these items up at your earliest convenience?

Oh God. Oh, look at that. Oh yeah. I would tear that up. I would wreck that.

It’s just the right amount of chest hair!!

The shooter looks like Peter Scolari.

Why the use of night vision cameras? Is this a sex tape?

It was intense. It must’ve been like the first time Paris saw Helen of Troy.

How many food items are these people gonna order? Why not just go to an all-you-can-eat buffet instead of buying $100 worth of food piecemeal at Taco Bell?

Apparently scotch+gin+vodka=the extreme horny train.

I am glad there weren’t kids around us. There are things they don’t need to know about wrecking an anteater. Can you imagine the questions that would raise—Mommy, what’s an anteater in a sleeve?

I don’t care if it is an anteater in a pouch. I would make an exception for him.

I was on fucking fire, man.

That guy looks like if Adrien Brody had a gross older brother who tried to get famous.

I got a message for her: hey, Annie Duke, read between the lines. (Sara then holds up three fingers)

It is a whole new level of desperation when one is flashing lights and overtaking cars in a turn lane to get home. It is SERIOUS.

Since he’s 35 or 40, there’s nothing wrong with it. He’d be a virgin who’d need a lot of teaching but there’d be nothing wrong with it.

Oh wait a minute—he’s a bad priest. He’s a secret naughty! This is even better!

The guy getting eaten by rats in the sewer looks like Neptune.

He’s an Aries. Well, no wonder. That’s like taking a rake inside a fire and stoking up the embers until an explosion forms. The power of two fire signs together is inestimable.