Tonight: Marty times with Bruce the horse-dog, Die Hard, every kind of chip and dip known to mankind, and the Black Eyed Peas. Mostly, this:
Coincidentally, I feel uber badass right now.
…Almost as badass as Bruce Willis. But not quite. No one is. Even at age a hundred-and-something (in non-Hollywood years, also known as “close to 60″) in Red 2, I’d totally hit that.
He’s BRUCE-FREAKIN’-WILLIS!
Who WOULDN’T wanna ride that ride?
(Shut up boys, you so do too. He’s on your top five “free-bee” list, we already know it…cuz he’s on EVERYONES.)
…It only really gets awkward when Alan Rickman joins him on screen. Cuz then it turns into a kind of sexual potato chip war: You can’t have just ONE. Good God, there’s far too much deliciousness hanging around for that kind of nonsense. Have ALL the chips! In all their suited-up, sweat-drenched, faux German accented, bleeding feet, bouncy eighty’s hair best! Have it ALL!
…And then bust out to the Spike Mix, all the way home.
THIS is the way to kill a Monday, friends. In a skyscraper, in LA, on Christmas…Beethoven’s Ode de Joy mix-taping with hip hop in strange perfect harmony. Like Rickman and Willis will be, forever and ever, amen.
~D
