Huston, we have a problem. The day before I left was a real kick in the rear end, fam. (Keeping it PG for Christmas, folks.) (And by “PG,” I mean “pretty gay.”) The flight to Florida, and the struggle for a proper Belgian waffle. I had Christmas and went to see Nosferatu so that you don’t have to, then I watched Rogue One directly into A New Hope, and had thoughts on those. I apologize, not only was this an uneventful week, I really wasn’t in the mood to do this episode on top of it. Way to end the year with a BANG!, Luke….

I observe how much I hate the Observatory. I had no business using one of the cameras from The Revenant to shoot my dick jokes with, but I did anyway. After 27 years of deliberating and excuse making, I finally got my stupid Star Wars tattoo fixed. I can’t think of a single filmmaker in history who has ruined their legacy or fucked up their own movies more than asshole piece of shit George Lucas. I’m afraid of Vistaviews. I’m either having a weird reaction to my sleep medication, or I’m several days into the Drag Me To Hell curse/demonically possessed. Vinnie’s schmancy work Christmas party at the Sofi Stadium. I got to meet my favorite Instagram husky! Listen to grandma Luke’s account of it! Day Of The Fight, and the inimitable Jack Huston.

28 Years Later, 23 years later. I’m the asshole for bringing up the fact that people are constantly falling asleep and snoring in Los Angeles movie theaters. The resplendent bliss of Arby’s. I mostly complain about several podcasts from the last week. I went to see “Horizon,” the Kevin Costner western, so you don’t have to.