I went to the opening of David Mamet’s new movie “Henry Johnson” the same day James Foley died, who directed the movie version of Mamet’s most famous work, and I was in nerd utopia. I also went to see the Accountant 2 (“tWoOo?!”) so that you don’t have to. Thank you for your ears, throughout the years.  <3

Five double o! I recount the colorful history of this here podcast. A fellow traveler in Los Angeles car wash-dom. The Studio, and the tragedy of Seth Rogan. The trouble with Instagram titties. I’m finding the rhythms for my rebound girl, the LA Fitness on Coldwater and Victory. The trouble with Jon Hamm, and Apple TV shows round up. (Who made the cut? Who didn’t? HOW EXCITING IS THIS)

Pee jug. One less jerk at work. Hittin pavement for puss. Another show I won’t go. Pizza extortion and casting exasperations. Thunderbolts, that new Marvel movie. “The best one since End Game!”

White Men Can’t Jump was the pinnacle of positive black/white relations in the United States. Fuck Robert Rodriguez and his can-do attitude. I spent the afternoon with a BIG MOVIE STAR, and got 3rddegree burns on my tongue from a fish taco. (Possibly)

We need a reverse middle finger. For Christ’s sakes. The Last Of Them. The Rockford Files. Warfare. Sinners. Assault & Slattery.

I flew back to Buffalo for my & my nephew’s birthday.

Still on the rebound after having my heart broken. (By the LA Fitness closing at Coldwater and Chandler) You basically need the shields from the Tim Burton Batman Batmobile in LA if you want your car to not be destroyed, broken into, vandalized, etc. I definitely go to Chipotle too much. I messed around with AI images and it blew my feeble mind. Mr Penis Powers came to town, and lead to a plethora of gallivanting. Seeing King Of Comedy in a theater was a whole different experience than I would have anticipated.

Snow White? More like “s’no successful MOVIE!” I tell you about a bunch of movies in the pipeline; some good, some bad. (Mostly bad) I went to see Refused at the historic Shrine Auditorium, and also took a gander at the house that Bugsy got his eyeball blown out in. I had a myriad of thoughts about both.

I don’t care if I have to walk over a desert of thumbtacks to get where I’m going, I cannot handle being a passenger in other people’s cars anymore. A workout in Tijuana. A plethora of fast food incompetence.  (It’s spreading) A night of metal at the Viper Room. The banana thief. The Coalesce conundrum.

Id like to “excise” the asshole that came up with the “excise tax” from planet earth. I’m so tired of arbitrary and ever-growing surcharges for almost everything conceivable. Stop casting Michael Fassbender as an urbane spy and/or hitman. I’ve had it with “Grandma-la Anderson;” PUT SOME MAKE UP ON, YOU FUCK. The stranded astronauts came back to earth, but there’s more to this story than we really got. No one cares about JFK assassination. I spend a lot of time talking about 70s crime film “Prime Cut.”