Overheard
A bar room, somewhere:
“January came and went. It didn’t make a sound. I mean, not even a fucking whimper. Can you believe that?! It fucking baffles me, man. Simple baffles me. How can a month so full of death be so fucking boring? I mean, it’s supposed to snow and shit, right? Like, epic amounts of snowfall. Biblical. The shit they make movies about. I bet Jerry Bruckheimer is just sitting back and shitting his pants. And don’t get me started on that mother fucker. I mean, where is the creativity in Hollywood? It’s gone. Along with the good coke. Let me tell you something. Thirty years ago, L.A. was rampant with great cocaine. And I mean, top of the line shit. Shit you put into your nose and the world goes red. Fucking serious, man. Serious. We would sit back and just sniff and go wild. Fights, parties, fucking. Epic amounts of fucking. Bruckheimer couldn’t even fathom the amounts of fucking. And that man is an asshole. Let me tell you something. This whole thing… this place… is a fucking sham. It’s all a lie. I mean, ask January. He’ll tell you. He came and went and didn’t make a sound. I mean, not even a fucking whimper. Can you believe that?! It fucking baffles me, man. Simply baffles me.”
The night moves on.
