2016-06-02 You’re fuckin / nuts.’

2016-06-02         You’re fuckin / nuts.’        

 

‘Retep’ your man the video store clerk said it better earlier this evening as Cin was trying to return his month-late rentals without causing / a cincident, ‘left a note on your account’.  Cin said nothing,  like Magnum, P.I. from the TV show of the same name from back in the 20th, his ‘little voice’ told him exactly how and when and where – ‘the four ‘w’s’ your man the President of ®ugby ©lub explained the process better, innit J Duff, ‘and / the ‘how’’ - the rest of this cinversation was going / to go, ‘I wonder’, (y)our man the actor Morgan Freeman as Detective Somerset in David Fincher’s immor(t)al movie Seven akses it better of Brad Pitt’s Detective Mills, before during and after Mills gets into the grill of the local beat cop as we do because management‘what was / the point of the conversation you were about to get into ? ‘, the pojnt is all / we gots.

 

‘He said you owe’ your man the video clerk said it better to Cin to end / the scene, ‘nine dollars and fifty / cents’, owing nine dollars and fifty cents is all / we gots.  Course this scene could have played out different, the young video store clerk, sensing the implications and the cintext of the ‘four ‘w’s and / the how’ of the situation – what with your man ©in hulk-smashing away at this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and movie ®eviews, and the video store renting out the same to all / and sundry, and your man the video clerk calling Cin ‘Mr. Noslouc’ by his last name and all that – and decided not / to charge Cin the nine bucks. 

 

Course nine buck$ is nine buck$, one of the most dangerous mistakes that we can make is to assume – ‘assume’ makes an ‘ass’ the slogan has it better, correctly predicting the millenials’ use of shorthand and on-line and text LOL eubonics (oh please hooker -id.)  ‘out of ‘u’ and ‘me’ – that other people laugh and scoff at the idea of playing nine buck$ / for anything, ‘it’s too bad you don’t have thirty dollar$’ the prostitot played by Karen Allen in this movie Blow Out by Brian Palma cracks wise better with the sailor at the Philadelphia Amtrak station, using streetwalker and sailor shorthand eubonics , ‘and thirty / dollar$’, thirty minutes and thirty dollars is all / we got$.

 

Course Blow Out was one of the movies that Cin rented of this Thi®stday evening at the video store – and they never get any / more or ant / less thirsty because regime zero - this despite the ®elative unpleasantness of the video clerk and of your man Retep, the owner of the joint, in assessing a nine buck$ late fee on your man the humble(d) narrato® of this Take This Thing Back to Baltime-moirs and movie ®eviews, ®elative unpleasantness is all / we gots. 

 

What it is in Blow Out is that (y)our (wo)man Karen Allen plays a p®o in the movie, and your man Vinny Barbarino, aka John Travolta, plays a sound man working within the local Philadelphia movie scene, ‘you’re fuckin’ ‘ the local cop says it better to Travolta’s character, this after Travolta swears up and down to the cop that he has videed – and video-taped - the assassination by drowning in a manufactured car accident, ©happadaquick / Ted Kennedy-style, of a local wanna-be politician, ‘nuts’. 

 

Course this isn’t the first time that de Palma and Karen Allen and John Travolta have worked together, de Palma’s take on your Carrie was the first, innit Mr. King, and the first five minutes in Blow Out are similar to the first five mastubatory (hooker please, -id., oh wait, what?) minutes of that dePalma masterpiece, set as they both are in the women’s  shower and / or sorority as we do, ‘yeah’ we have finals too’ one of the pa®ty animal sorority sisters dis©o dancing around in their room wearing nothing but / their negliges says it better in this movie Blow Out to their neighbor and sorority sister who has just busted into their room to complain about / the same, and to aks them to turn down / the dis©o music, ‘doncha wanna / dance?’, ‘we slept’ Cin says it better as part of one of his endlessly-repeated ane©todes and t®ue stories about his life so far to be fou8nd in the pixels and pages of (t)his Take This Thing Back to Balti-memoirs and scary Carrie scary Carrie, ‘on the dirt floor of / a sorority’, this piece of bullshit / gospel t®uth applied to that Task Fo®ce trip we took to New Orleans for Ma®di Gras back in the 20^th, innit Cash, ‘we thought’ he ends this story cinevitably about the line delivered by one on the Tulane sorority sisters who saw the lot of us emerge from their dungeon on Fat Tuesday, ‘you were / crackheads’, scary Carrie is all / we gots. 

      

Good times, Libe®ty Day like Mardi Gras in The Big Easy apparently a big deal / in Phillie, ‘I was bruised and broken’ the Boss sings it better in his tune Philadelphia from the Jonathan Demme film – yes yes we know it’s the same Jonathan Demme who directed the namesake / o®igin story of this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and you’re fuckin’ / ©razy, The Silence Of the Lambs – ‘I didn’t know how / I felt’, not knowing how I How Does It Feel is all / we gots.

 

‘It’s the first time in a hundred years’ the talking head on the local Phillie TV news show says it better in Blow Out about the local cinfamous landmark, ‘that the Liberty Bell has been rung’, which is not quite as long as it’s been since your man Cin’s bell / has been rung, ‘I walked so far’ your man Clapton in god sings it better, innit god, ‘to get my ham bone / boiled’. 

 

It’s a good movie, good movies is all / we gots.  Travolta’s story as an actor is all that sustains your man ©in the humble(d) of (t)his Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and walking so far to get my ham bone / boiled during these thin, mean times, what with Travolta’s early success playing one of the Sweathogs Vinnie Barbarino on the TV show Welcome Back Cotter back in the 20^th, innit monsieur debonaire, and then Grease with Olivia Newton John (and Grease Two ?! -id.) and of course Saturday Night Fever and Stayin’ Alive – wait a minute this guy is filthy rich and famous, filthy rich and famous is all / we gots – followed by a long and thin and mean time measured in decades in the desert that is / Hollyweird, before during and after making a ©omeback in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, a long and thin and mean time is all / we gots.

 

 Good times, course nestled somewhere in that hagiog®aphy was de Palma’s film version of your Carrie, innit Mr. King, where Travolta played the ®apey goon boyfriend of Karen Allen’s Mean Gir®l to Sissy Spacek’s Carrie, both of whom died when Carrie at the end of the film flipped their Camaro with her mind, flipping Camaros with her mind is all / we gots.  It was one of the few if not the only scene in the recent ®e-boot of Carrie the movie, horroreviewed ad nauseum elsewhere in the pages and pixels of (t)his Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and cinfessions, that was as good in the ®e-boot as it was in the o®iginal, innit Mr. King.

 

Here’s your man now John Lithgow, the Michael Shannon of the 20^th, innit monsieur debonaire, what with his big scary expressive face and the same goes for the rest / of him, playing a psy©ho in Blow Out, Lithgow playing a heavy / s©umbag # 1 in this movie for the aides of the politician who got kilt earlier in the movie as part of the manufactured death of the same by vehicular drowning.  Or something, the plots of the movies that  Cin has been videeing as of late have been hard / to follow – ‘I know guys / on crack’, (y)our (hench)man one of Dr. Evil’s henchemen in the Austin Powers series of films says it better, ‘that makes more sense / than you’ – guys on crack is all / we gots. 

 

Soon (y)our (sound)man the sound man as played by Travolta and Karen Allen’s streetwalker / hustler in the movie are running for / their lives,  as your man John Lithgow’s hitman runs around cleaning up the mess created by the politician’s manufactured death by vehicular d®owning.  Course Karen Allen’s p®ostitot was also in the politicians’ limousine before, during, and after it tumbled into / the Potomac (oh please hooker that’s Washington, D.C., innit DJDC) for all of the usual streetwalking reasons, before Travolta’s soundman, who was after playing Johnny On the Spot and recording ®ando Pet Sounds with his audee-videe equipment near the bridge where ‘the accident’ occurred, saved her from drowning by jumping into the Potomac toute-suite (that’s enough -id.) after videeing the limousine crash spectacularly through / the guardrails, crashing spectacularly is all / we gots.

 

Blow Out jumps the shark early and often – the disco music from the early sorority house / shower scene transfers to the rest of the soundtrack, aging it terribly, aging terribly is all / we gots – but de Palma is one of the very few directors who allows and yes directs his films and actors to jump the shark early and often and gets away with it, think de Palma’s immor(t)al film Scarface with Al ‘say hello to my little friend’ Pacino as Tony Montana, think Carrie with your (wo)man Carrie’s mother going on and on and on in that film about her daughter’s ‘dirty / pillows’, and then getting crucified by many kitchen knives in the kitchen, compliments of her daughter Carrie’s telekinesis, innit Mr. King, dirty / pillows is all / we gots.

 

Dennis Franz from TV police procedural Hill Street Blues from back in the 20^th (wrong, TV Guide it was NYPD Blue -id.) makes a ©ameo in this film as Karen Allen’s partner in ©rime / fellow Phillie hustler, and gets crowned by Karen Allen’s p®o and a bottle of J and B scotch when he tries to jump her bones in the No Tell Motel that he calls / home.

 

Blow Out ends less brutally than de Palma’s Carrie and Scarface, but them’s unfair comparisons, compared to Carrie and Scarface, the Apo©alypse / the End of Days ends less brutally, innit Electrified JC.  Your man Travolta in Blow Out tries to save his new BFF Karen Allen’s p®ostitot from John Lithgow’s clutches as the fireworks go off in Phillie on Liberty Day just before the end credits roll, but cannot save her in time, ‘everyone ‘ dies’ the Rugby ©lub ©hoir practice chorus from Jonestown has it better, innit Mo, ‘everyone / dies’.

 

Thank you for reading (t)his Take This Thing Bak to Balti-memoires and capitalism is getting / fucked.