Boy, I Love That Franko
This morning while I was asleep, I had a dream about fighting vampries or something, and believe me: I was kicking undead ass. But the weirdest thing about the dream was that someone kept knocking on a door somewhere while I was trying to protect my neck.
Turns out it was Brandon, who foolishly assumed I'd be out of bed by 1:30 PM. I ended up going over to his house later and hanging out with him and Corey while I ate chicken, collard greens, and cornbread and tried to keep a straight face about it. We talked about Sin City and the Punisher's former difficulties with water, and it was a lot of fun. Still, the second time that this guy crept into the conversation, I knew it was time to go.
That's when I came home and started watching the Dirty Dozen. This frigg'n movie kicks ass. I swear, between that and Once Upon a Time in the West, I'm convinced that Charles Bronson might be the baddest motherfucker who ever lived.
After McGoohan, I mean.
Anyway, Dirty Dozen is awesome. Every scene is incredible, from when Lee Marvin tells John Cassavetes that he'll beat his brains out right up to where Jim Brown gleefully rains gasoline and grenades down on the trapped Germans... It's incredible.
No wonder Suicide Squad was so good.