What's cooking?  This weekend was probably one of the wildest of my life.  Friday night I popped an extra boner pill because I had some heavy duty fucking to do.  No joke, I doubled my dose and I put a hurting down.  I'm proud of myself, I've managed to come full circle (in more ways than one.)  The thing is, I'm still getting boners right now and it's two days later.  They're super intense and I can pretty much feel my heart beating through them.  I don't take them because I can't get a boner on my own, I just take them because they make my life rule and I can put a hardcore thrashing down for several hours in a night.  I feel like a super hero when I am socking it to my hunny all night but I turn into a rogue mutant if I get denied because "she's too tired".  I go on a rampage through her house and turn into a maniac.  What can I say?  I'm still honing my super powers.  Much like my favorite superhero Iron Man.

 

Iron Man came out on Friday and we were supposed to go see it but I had some hard partying to do.  I didn't have time to see it until Saturday.  Believe me when I say this movie was hyped more than any movie of recent times.  The theatre was jam packed, showings were selling out and people were waiting in line just to sit in the theatre a half hour early.  

The movie (directed by none other than Jon Favreau) starts off with

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Sunday presents a big challenge when you live my lifestyle.  Usually you wake from a wild night before, stand up 69 the girl you wake up with, take her to breakfast and buy her blueberry pancakes and then come home for a post breakfast nap.  I know, my life is hard.. get over it.

This Sunday I went to see Harold and Kumar: Escape From Guantanamo Bay with #1 and Nic.  We went out for a delicious dinner at Tremont 647 and then I smoked a giant j on the way to the cinema.  How in the fuck do you think I would go there without smoking in the first place?  It's my tradition these days to get super ripped and go see a film and this one (in my opinion) would be all about weed.

You couldn't expect this movie to suck because it has a few elements from the previous film that you can't touch.  For example, N.P.H. makes an appearance and you even get to see Rob Corddry go shithouse.  Obviously it won't let you down.  You can't expect it to blow your mind like the first one though. 

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Boston experienced a furiously randomized climate change yesterday.  We woke up and went for a walk down Newbury Street in the sunshine.  There were girls in their sun dresses, and those girls who don't wear real pants anymore but they rock spandex that shows off all of their nooks and crannies like a Thomas' English Muffin.  Me and #1 Muchacho were in Zara, and I examined a girl bending over in said pants.  She had painted on spandex and was bending over to look at the size of a dress.  He said "Isn't it funny when a girl wears those pants and has a thick camel toe?  It looks like she's smuggling a Big Mac in between her legs from behind."  I laughed my fucking face off and had to agree.  From now on, we've coined the term "Big Mac smugglers" so don't go stealing it and saying it's yours.

 As expected, the weather turned shitty at the drop of a dime.  It went from 78 degrees and sunny to 48 degrees and cloudy.  The rain was on it's way.  We mounted up on our Batman motorbikes (Vespas) and headed home to watch a movie until the rain storm passed.

I put on Margot at the Wedding (directed by Noah Baumbach).  I'd seen it three times already but each time stoned as fuck by myself.  I wanted to give it a whirl sober and I wanted Sarah (my partner in extreme hi-jinx and hot pranks, love of my life, brilliant, visiting from New York, etc.) to see it too.

I really like Noah Baumbach's The Squid and The Whale.  I watched it at a particularly rough time in my life.  I had my heart unexpectedly ripped out of my chest

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Paul Proulx from Sly-Fi has done it once again with an ode to legendary director, Martin Scorsese. Check out part 1 of this two-part ode to one badass filmmaker.

Checkout Paul's montage of Quentin Tarantino's films.