yo what’s good this is the funniest movie ever made ow i had a crush on her this idiot. ‘loooove it baby’ It also had atmosphere which all movies are now lacking very film noir comes back in the mid-late 80s kind of way “You know this is a nice jacket – it’s a Morris…
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- Katz. People that are mad skid row and still think they’re doing it and don’t understand the new demographic. And never did.
- Van Dykes. Dvds. Dick van dykes. Dirty fucking trash-holes that hate life.
- Watchers. In Brooklyn they are old Italian guys with Yankee fitteds and shitty jackets with bird shit on it and a dog that watches with them but are not thugs. Maybe failed gang kids from like the 1940s.
- ‘Faggity’ old world types from back then or now with that douchebag my country is the shit mentality when nobody gives a flying fuck about you or your situation.
- People who claim to be religious but are really non-religious in practice and grimey cunts of life.
- Schitzophrenics, etc who don’t get help because of the large amount of douchebag mentality in the general area. High amount of anti-common sense.
- Can collectors. Homelessness. People passed out.
- Family and societal neglect and lack of communication due to all factors. Perception that this area doesn’t need anything. Which will result in exactly that.
- Sirens that never stop.
“Dylan hurried the comic book into his binder. He’d bought it on Court Street at lunchtime and debated allowing it to be seen inside the school, a breach of general good sense.”
“Walk these streets with pockets empty, you’re an idiot, asking for it.”
“Homeroom was a place for honing silence in a theater of noise and so the Italian girl and Dylan never spoke. As for Arthur Lomb, Dylan supposed he and the other boy had been kept apart intentionally by some unseen pitying intelligence, to avoid making both more conspicuous in their resemblance. This was a policy Dylan endorsed heartedly, whether it existed outside of his own brain or not.”
“That’s my best friend, Dylan wanted to tell the blond woman, who the longer he didn’t reply to her offer was more and more squinting at Dylan like she might have miscalculated, like he might be a thing spoiled by the company she found him in, a misfit, not a kid worth her rescue in the first place.
And that’s what he wanted to be to her, spoiled, stained with blackness.
- Jonathan Lethem, “The Fortress of Solitude”