Whether you're sure or not, if you use Drysol, you don't have to even think about it - ever again - you'll be dry, and that's for damn sure! I've always wondered why you see certain actors running around with sweaty pits when they can use Drysol? Are they afraid of a little cancer? Yeah, so what? So they say certain ingredients like aluminum chloride may cause cancer, but I haven't seen the studies. Show me!
Strap a pair on, and get the treatment. Just do it, but boy, you really will need that set of proverbial balls because the three nights of treatment are pure torture. Torture I say. I have a few friends that can attest, but don't worry pals, I won't rat ya out. Yet. I'll save that for the memoir.
And check this out. You can get all your favorite sauces to go on the side, self serve. They keep them in this little steel cooler that also holds an ice pack to keep the sauces chilled. Ingenious. Whattaya say we meet next week for lunch? 2 W. 14th Street, corner of 5th Ave and 14th St. My treat!
What's so curious about this movie is that anyone watched it. What's even more curious is that it was actually even made. Do the actors, director, producers and everyone else involved proudly sit through the premiere believing their peers are actually enjoying it? Respecting them? Or do they cringe with embarrassment? It must be a very painful experience to have to pretend to be proud of something that sucks so bad. And it was long as all get out. I once heard OJ say that in an interview and feel it's rather apropos because someone should have killed this before it was ever finished. Hollywood rapes us with this shit. I was raped of the five fucking hours it took to watch this junk. Don't do it. Don't watch it. Trust me. (Oh. Okay. I'm flimflammin' and take everything I just said back. I did like the jar of buttons, and the way they were effortlessly poured out of the jar. Really. It was the best scene of the entire flick. Worth every penny spent to make the movie and spent to see it. Every penny.) 
Very strange...the fact that this phenomena actually exists is beyond my imagination. A changeling is a child surreptitiously or unintentionally substituted for another. Really? That happens? Either way, what I really want to talk about is the movie. Plain and simply, I liked it. I’m not the biggest Angie Jo fan, but I believed her. I really did. She was good. Yeah, she’s purty. Very. But I don’t really give a shit about that. I'm going to hate myself for saying this, but she is a damn good actor. I’m glad she didn’t win the Oscar, but she deserved to be nominated. There. Said it. I suppose the reason being is I hate jumping on a bandwagon, revering celebrity, conforming to that system, if you will. However, as far as I’m concerned, she was Christine Collins, and now I need to know more about this true story. I love the story. I love the setting. The acting is superb. The score is amazing and really helped me feel the movie. And, and, and...and Amy Ryan is in it. Ever since The Wire, I've loved her. Watch Gone Baby Gone too. She was nominated for an Oscar. You'll like it.
So I've chowed down on 5 Guys Bugers twice now, but unfortunately my shirt enjoyed it more than I did (bot times really). I got two turntables and a microphone...Shake Shack is still where it's at!
I'm gonna tell yee a lil-ull stor-ee. Way back when I bought a watch. It was a wonderful watch. It was a rare watch. It was my favorite watch. Then quite a few years back when I was tightening my purse strings so I could guiltlessly afford my various substance abuses...aka beer money, I sold this watch to a friend of mine. My best friend. Ha. I sold it for more than I paid for it. Ha ha. Chump. But then. But then I had to watch (no pun intended, really) my best friend wear this watch over and over and over again. Time after time. (Again, no pun intended, really...okay maybe that one was intended.) It burned me up inside. It chapped my hide. It chafed my thighs. Really! Who was the chump now? Yeah. You guessed it. This guy. *points and waves thumbs at self* Anyway, I searched the world over, checked eBay religiously, and years later I found a brand new one on eBay and immediately gobbled it up. Didn't even take the time to bid. I "bought it now!" The cool thing, I paid less than what I sold it for. Score! My friend's watch - my old watch - broke. He can no longer wear it. Hehehe. (I know, pure evil.) And suddenly I had my watch back. Well. Fuckity fucken fuck fuck! (I really have a way with words, huh?) I lost that shit five months after it making it's way back into my life. But still, I consider myself really lucky. Here's the thing. How does that dumb-ass saying go? It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Well, I loved that watch. I loved that watch twice. See? I'm so lucky.
