They sound indescribably awful.
Oh, they are.
And yet....
I think I have a sickness.
Joyce ,'Never Leave Me'
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They sound indescribably awful.
Oh, they are.
And yet....
I think I have a sickness.
It's an Albany expression.
It's an old family recipe.
I kind of want to see Harold & Kumar in spite of my lack of White Castle experience.
The Village doesn't look funny-bad to me, just the ordinary trying-too-hard bad. Which is not as much fun, but might still be worth seeing at the Cinema 'n' Drafthouse, where we can get beer and mock.
We will probably see The Bourne Supremacy this weekend.
They sound indescribably awful.
They are, but they always seem to be just the thing to cap off a night of drunkenness. You're stumbling home from the bar, and all of sudden you think, "Heeyyyyyyy, I could really go for some grease. What's open? White Castle? YEAH! A couple of sliders would really hit the spot!" So you join the horde of drunks milling about in the White Castle, scarfing down the cheeseburgers and boxes of fries, thinking that you're so smart to get some food in your stomach to soak up the booze.
Then, of course, you wake up the next day and your intestinal tract is sitting next to your liver, and they're both nursing a cup of coffee and a cigarette and glaring at you, all "Dude, you could have gone for the Wendy's, you know that? NO, you had to have the White Castle, didn't you? Bastard." And then the intestinal tract runs to the bathroom, and the liver gets up and stomps out to make another pot of coffee, making sure to slam the door very loudly.
I seriously think that White Castle increases your hangover by 50%.
I seriously think that White Castle increases your hangover by 50%.I feel the same about McDonalds.
They are, but they always seem to be just the thing to cap off a night of drunkenness. You're stumbling home from the bar, and all of sudden you think, "Heeyyyyyyy, I could really go for some grease.
I had a friend from Rochester who told me about a place where all the drunk people went after a night of drinking and got what was called a "Garbage Plate". Basically a lot of very random, greasy food thrown into a pile. It sounded like the least appetizing thing possible even when sober, but he swore by it.
man, I miss Buzzy's roast beef.
I can't be in a car with a bag of White Castle burgers. You pretty much buy them by the sack, not individually.
Half a dozen rotburgers, wench, and make it snappy!
I'm off to see Metallic: Some Kind of Monster tonight.
Can't wait for that glorious train wreck feeling. Plus, it's fun to be the resident headshrinker the buds want to see it with. Much discussion will ensue, I'm sure.
More than that? I want THAT dude's practice. The band's coach made $40,000 a month for years. And he wasn't even trained! Please GOD, somebody throw me that kind of bone. (Only of course, if it's a gig where I can actually do good. Integrity can be a pesky impediment to non-filthy-lucre.)
The band's coach made $40,000 a month for years. And he wasn't even trained!
The filmmakers themselves noted, though, that without him the band absolutely would have broken up. So a worthwhile investment for them, based on future earnings.