Sitemap - 2014 - 34MAG
I woke up this morning thinking about Afghanistan.
We now have two wars: the one on screen and the one between Broc and Majah.
He hadn’t always loved his sister.
I just told ‘em I was taking my little gringo friend to offer up as a sacrifice to the beach gods.
This is no longer Ultra Violet, the imposing and mysterious Andy Warhol Superstar.
Why do you feel the need to grill me about some dinner I had with people from work?
Attention, Monsieur! I am in Paris.
Saying you like Kubrick is like saying you like the Beatles: who doesn’t?
I see a man chasing a dream that awakens his soul.
My son, my destiny. I have an important story to tell you. It is about your birth.
Those were my dreams, not yours.
There’s no way to tell what one could have been.
I am a gamer girl, that’s my escape.
I watched laughter play you like a guitar.
Can you play Love Shack by The B-52s?
When we meet each other, as I know we will during the intermission, how shall I sum it up?
I’ve been trying to reach my mother for over two hours and I keep getting a busy signal.
You should do what you want to do, what you think is the right thing to do.
After three days of not eating, the first thing I buy is a Coca-Cola.
That million-dollar smile (it would, of course, be in dollars, or euros, and never anything but).
Tripping over my heels, as many takes as it takes on this scene—