Like a Drugstore Cowboy

One in an occasional series of late-night movie reviews.

Drugstore Cowboy.
When somebody dies in your presence, and your only options are a) hiding her in the attic and b) burying her in the desert, you're probably not living your life to its proper potential.

Also, I used to see Matt Dillon all the time when I lived in the East Village, and for some reason, every time I did I would get this bizarre Instant Tourette's, so we'd be walking toward each other on the street and I'd be spitting, "Fucking Matt Dillon thinks he's so cool! Bitch-ass Matt Dillon! Fuck you, fuckin' Matt Dillon motherfucker! Gack, gack, FUCK!"
So that was fun.