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Subject: [MV] MovieJuice! - PATCH ADAMS - Crappy Diem
Date: 10 Jan 1999 16:38:21 -0500 (EST)
PATCH ADAMS - CRAPPY DIEM
by Mark Ramsey
http://www.moviejuice.com
January 10, 1999
"Laughter is Contagious," reads the slug line for Patch Adams. Then again, so is a yawn. Fortunately, I visited the famous Dr. Jonas Salk who, having conquered Polio, has now developed a Robin Williams vaccine. Flowing through my system are antibodies against random comic outbursts, "Mr. Happy" jokes, feel-good flatulence, and earnest yet manipulative manic mambo-mongering. I'm ready for Patch Adams, baby!
Robin - who's played a doctor enough times to graduate with honors from most off-shore Med Schools - returns as Patch Adams. The story kicks off with Patch, whose full name is Patch Quincy Adams, in a loony bin in the late '60s. There, he realizes if you make crazy people laugh then they won't ask you for 25 cents on the street, and while they're doubled over in hysterics you can out-run them for your life. No small lesson.
So Robin wants to become a doctor to heal people with laughter, or at least with a plentiful supply of balloons and big red noses. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but the last time these items were laugh-a-minute, Red Skelton was the King of Comedy. What a scream, when he flaps his arms like a chicken! Hey, gang, it's Freddy the Freeloader! What a stitch...er...suture! If you love the idea of a Cancer Patient Conga Line, if bearing witness to the Rappin' Granny in a pool of Top Ramen turns your comedy crank, then you'll love Patch Adams!
"See what everyone chooses not to see," an old man advises Flatulence Adams. Suspiciously, the old man vaguely resembled Universal kingpin Richard Branson who, methinks, must have been referring to Universal's lackluster slate of flicks for '98, of which this flick is the crowning achievement.
Fortunately, Robin's not alone! There are three chicks in his Med School class, and he's lucky enough to hook up with the hot one: Outrageously fine, super-blonde and barely humanoid Monica Potter. Robin may be easily three times Monica's age, but that just gives him three times as many good lines as the hundreds of other Med students that are better looking and within a century of Monica's birth year.
"I'm not here to date, I'm here to study," says Monica Babe-r-onica, and any opportunity to study her is a welcome one, I say. Here's a gal whose nose is so perky-riffic, her nostrils provide a horizontal line of sight straight into her head, and I think there's even some neural mass knocking around in there!
Patch Adams, which was originally to be called Robin and Ethel, the Pirate's Daughter, features uplifting music, uplifting animated butterflies, and the very uplifted nose of Monica Potter. Everything's up but "Up With People." What's up with that?
Remember gang, this here's the Age of Woodstock, so Patch becomes Patchouli Adams faster than you can hum "Truckin'," and he opens up the first broken-down-shack-hippie-commune-medical-clinic to treat folks who can't afford the skilled but uncaring louts with actual medical degrees and no funny hats. Thanks to free lovers like these, we have TV news stars with names like Soledad O'Brien and Willow Bay. Thank YOU.
Robin's strategy is to use humor to heal pain and suffering. Although if David Letterman's temperament is any example humor actually aggravates pain and suffering. Does Richard Lewis look healed to you?
Naturally, the medical establishment wants to get rid of Robin because he threatens their dress code and because he wants to name his clinic the "Gezundheit Institute," which, the doctors correctly point out, is seriously not funny. At the urging of one-time Rat-Packer Joey Bishop, Robin offers to change the name to the equally vaudevillian "A Jew, A Negro, and a Priest Institute," but only Dr. Red Buttons gave up the faintest glint of a chuckle at that one.
Robin's record is stained with a stinging criticism: He's guilty of "Excessive Happiness" and thus unfit to be a doctor. Now I understand why no local TV weatherperson can ever be a doctor, and here I thought it was because they were all fucking idiots. Sadly, "Excessive Happiness" is not an affliction cursing any member of the audience.
Ultimately, Patch is on trial for his professional life. Presiding is Judge Richard Kiley, the Man of La Mancha himself. Whoops, it's a Don Quixote A&E acid flashback.
So what have we learned from Dispatch Adams?
- Swelling music and swelling noses produce the actualization of the Human Spirit and the attainment of Maslow's highest level on the hierarchy of needs.
- Peter Coyote is still alive.
- Individualism and expression are what make us vital and human.
- Good lookin' chicks are doctors only in the movies.
- No woman is too young for a man too old.
- Excessive "Happiness" will get you kicked out of Med School if your name is "Patch" but earns you Indie praise if your name is "Solondz."
This cuckoo's nest lays an egg.
Copyright 1998 Mark Ramsey. All rights reserved. NO PORTION MAY BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
********************
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I saw an interview with Anne Rice in which she said that they were
actively trying to get Cruise to participate in a sequel. This was
especially interesting since she went on record during the original's
production as being unhappy with the casting of Cruise.
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Hello, everybody. I am Cecilia.
I'd like to see movies cuple days later, but I got two choices , "Let
It Be Me" and "Turbulence",Is there anyone kind enough to tell me which
one is better between them.
I'll be quite appreciate.
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Subject: [MV] MovieJuice! - THE THIN RED LINE - Patton Pending
Date: 17 Jan 1999 11:29:34 -0500 (EST)
THE THIN RED LINE - PATTON PENDING
by Mark Ramsey
http://www.moviejuice.com
January 17, 1999
Have you heard the news? According to NBC's new programming honcho Scott Sassa, there'll be less sex on NBC from now on. Thus, announced Sassa, Friends will be renamed Just Friends, Suddenly Susan will now be known as Suddenly Chaste Susan, and the world-famous NBC Peacock will now become the NBC Peahandshake.
Meanwhile at the Cineplex, The Thin Red Line is finally opening wide. Bring on the film school field trips, kids! Funky glasses and Indie 'tudes available at the door. Join the vets, war buffs, and their exceedingly reluctant spouses as the spoils of war spoil your evening big time.
This is the prettiest war I've ever seen! Who produced this flick, National Geographic? Should I enlist or call my travel agent? Is this The Discovery Channel Red Line? Does there exist a critter this camera doesn't love?
There are so many star cameos in this flick, Fox should have stuffed them all into a jar so the audience could guess the count and win a prize. There's Nick Nolte who, having survived Streisand, can certainly survive WWII. There's Woody Harrelson, fresh from the hard-fought Battle of Hemp Hill. There's even a brief turn by chief Japanese propagandist Tokyo Rosie O'Donnell. All these stars and not one Baldwin! Talk about defying the odds!
The Thin Red Line follows the exploits of Charlie Company which is comprised of several offshoots: There's "Charlie Rose Company," skilled in talking the enemy to death, "Charles Nelson Reilly Company" which is ideal for reconnaissance and surveillance missions because it's "lightest in the loafers," and "Charlize Theron Company," which - needless to say - is the company all men want to be in.
If you insist on seeing this movie, stock up on provisions. Panzer attack the snack counter for surplus rations and bring reinforcements if at all possible. In my theater, the audience was deploying jujubes like grenades to the sounds of exploding popping corn, the aisles thick with the blood of Coke syrup. "Incoming!" yelled an audience recruit as a latecomer entered the theater. He was soon to retreat, however, following a barrage of neo-poetic innuendo, spiritual smoke-blowing, and metaphysical naval-pondering. Where's a foxhole when you need one?
I don't know about you, but the only thin red line I see here is the one separating my body from the exit. Who knew that WWII contained so little fighting and so much narration?
I was deep into this flick before I realized something important: There's no story here! I mean none! This is nearly three hours of random action, if "action" is what you call Sean Penn's hair waving in the breeze.
Notoriously boring yet legendary director and film school darling Terry Malick took off 20 years in self-imposed hibernation somewhere on a distant planet and managed to direct an entire movie without even returning to Earth!
Ghost-written by Jewel, The Soap Opera Paced Red Line is set in the midst of one of WWII's worst conflicts, the island of Barnes and Noble Poetry readings. General Emily Dickinson and Lt. Col. Robert Frost outline a battle plan called "Operation Metaphors 'R' Us." We're going to fog the enemy's minds with symbolism, men! And while we're at it, let's not leave out the audience! This, gang, is what would have happened if the Gulf war had been covered by the Bravo channel.
Fortunately, enduring this movie beside me was Private First Class Shakti Gawain, who handed me a trusty copy of the "Intergalactic Malick-English Dictionary," available in the esoterica section of your favorite bookstore. Just take a peek at these sample entries:
Malick-ese from the planet "Rigel 7" / English Translation, from the planet Earth
- "The closer you are to Caesar, the greater the fear" / "This salad sucks. Bring me another."
- "What's this war at the heart of nature?" / "I need to pee really bad"
- "Who are you who live in all these many forms?" / "What, another Anthony Hopkins movie???"
- "What's keeping us from reaching out to touch the glory?" / "If only my seat was closer to the stage I could see Nicole Kidman nude"
- "Who lit this flame in us?" / "I have heartburn; can you spare a Tums?"
- "This great evil; where does it come from?" / "What time is Teletubbies on?"
I can't call this movie "pretentious" because I have no idea what it's pretending to be. But if the Allies ever decode it, something tells me they'll find the real killer of Nicole Simpson.
Copyright 1999 Mark Ramsey. All rights reserved. NO PORTION MAY BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
********************
Hey, kids, don't forget to visit the MovieJuice! Site at http://www.moviejuice.com. The pictures are half the fun (and sometimes more than half the laughs)!
********************
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Subject: [MV] MovieJuice! - VARSITY BLUES - Van Der Weak
Date: 24 Jan 1999 19:22:33 -0500 (EST)
VARSITY BLUES - VAN DER WEAK
by Mark Ramsey
http://www.moviejuice.com
January 24, 1999
Suppose you're a pretty young thing with a major chemical imbalance. Isn't it nice to know that the only thing between your miserable life and glitzy, glamorous caviar dreams is the fence, the window, and the drawer leading to Brad Pitt's PJ's? Hey, look what wearing Brad's underwear did for Gwyneth; just imagine what it can do for you!
Brad checks his locks now (and I don't just mean the ones draped over his forehead), but fortunately there are lots of other celebrities with private homes and private lives who would be happy to host your springboard to stardom at their expense. Some folks go to jail for breaking and entering; others land a shoot with Playboy. Go figure.
Varsity Blues is the new football flick from MTV films. That's right, MTV films, where the soundtrack is king and the script is referred to as "non-melodic interstitial lyrical content."
According to MTV's production head, Beavis D. Labelweasel, "Varsity Blues is set in a town where football is not only the most important thing in life, but after air guitar, it IS life. In fact, if life had a pop-top and an insatiable hunger for yeast, it'd be Varsity Blues."
Here we have a town where the elders read dialogue as if the script is upside down: "Shit, them boys is having the time of their lives!" To which I reply, "Pass me a corndog. Jed and Mr. Drysdale is comin' round the bend in that Four-Runner doohicky!"
The good news, kids: Like virtually all efforts from MTV films, Varsity Blues features rows of lockers and pairs of knockers. Let's hear it for consistency and flicks with high schoolers in strip joints!
Fresh from the middle of a rowboat on Dawson's Creek comes James Van Der Beek in another gig that's Van Der Meek. Jimmy is the sensitive second-string high school quarterback with miles and miles of eyebrow - enough to hide a ball, a case of Gatorade, the Lindbergh baby, and most of the alumni skyboxes when the good seats just aren't good enough. Damn, man! You've got the only eyebrows with a built in 50-yard line! Do you scrimmage or tweeze?
The high point of this flick is when Jimmy visits Darcy, the Queen of all Cheerleaders, who wants in his Van Der Pants. She excuses herself to add whipped cream to a sundae and returns with her privates strategically snow-covered in a pattern only Jack Valenti and the ratings board could have devised. Word has it this scene required extensive retakes, since bowl after bowl of Cool Whip kept slipping off her breasts - not because of the hot lights but because of the hot breathing of the crew, who've had precious little time for gripping and gaffing lately.
Will Jimmy be Matterhorny for Mounts Everest and McKinley? Or will he demurely decline? Maybe it's the thin air - or the lack of proper climbing gear. When James resists Darcy's Elsie-covered charms, a small gaggle of Dawsonettes in the theater applauded, while a much larger group of machoguys groaningly acknowledged this is only a movie, and definitely a fictional one at that.
Her Highnesses Darcy is a gal who yanks her reluctant boyfriend into the laundry room for coy coital shenanigans. When he's in no mood to please, she sits atop the equipment, flicks a switch, and says "let the dryer do the work." If the dryer could do that work, sweetheart, babies would look like blow-dryers instead of daddies, and the umbilical cord would come UL-approved.
Last, but not least, there's Jon Voight as "Coach Kilmer," and I'm not talkin' acting coach, believe me! Jon has an unbeaten record for football wins and - as far as I can tell - eyelid lifts. Take that, Jack Lemmon.
Pigs, as the saying goes, get slaughtered, but hams have long, fruitful careers, and Jon's so smoked and honey-baked, he's got pineapple slices toothpicked to his sides. I guess if you've got ham and cheese, somebody will always give you bread.
In all fairness, though, we have Coach Jon to thank for legendary tight end Angelina Jolie.
More players like that, Jon, and I'm ponying up for the draft!
Copyright 1999 Mark Ramsey. All rights reserved. NO PORTION MAY BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
********************
Hey, kids, don't forget to visit the MovieJuice! Site at http://www.moviejuice.com. The pictures are half the fun (and sometimes more than half the laughs)!
********************
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DO NOT REPLY TO THIS EMAIL! Just go to http://www.moviejuice.com and follow the directions at the top of the left frame. It's very easy. NOTE: YOUR NAME CANNOT BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST UNLESS YOU UNSUBSCRIBE USING THE EMAIL ADDRESS YOU REGISTERED WITH). And don't write me lots of mean-spirited crap. I won't read it.
********************
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Subject: Re: [MV] MovieJuice! - VARSITY BLUES - Van Der Weak
Date: 24 Jan 1999 18:50:18 -0500
Obviously you're not the target audience for this movie. MTV's last two films featured neither "lockers" nor "knockers" as you so eloquently stated. One was a cartoon and the other, "Joe's Apartment" was about a guy and his cockroaches.
And by the way, just because people are from the South and perhaps do not speak as eloquently as you, does that mean movies should not be made about them? Even Roger Ebert liked this movie, so get off your soap box already....
Anyway, that's my two cents...
arounmaillist@moviejuice.com wrote:
> VARSITY BLUES - VAN DER WEAK
>
> by Mark Ramsey
>
> http://www.moviejuice.com
>
> January 24, 1999
>
> Suppose you're a pretty young thing with a major chemical imbalance. Isn't it nice to know that the only thing between your miserable life and glitzy, glamorous caviar dreams is the fence, the window, and the drawer leading to Brad Pitt's PJ's? Hey, look what wearing Brad's underwear did for Gwyneth; just imagine what it can do for you!
>
> Brad checks his locks now (and I don't just mean the ones draped over his forehead), but fortunately there are lots of other celebrities with private homes and private lives who would be happy to host your springboard to stardom at their expense. Some folks go to jail for breaking and entering; others land a shoot with Playboy. Go figure.
>
> Varsity Blues is the new football flick from MTV films. That's right, MTV films, where the soundtrack is king and the script is referred to as "non-melodic interstitial lyrical content."
>
> According to MTV's production head, Beavis D. Labelweasel, "Varsity Blues is set in a town where football is not only the most important thing in life, but after air guitar, it IS life. In fact, if life had a pop-top and an insatiable hunger for yeast, it'd be Varsity Blues."
>
> Here we have a town where the elders read dialogue as if the script is upside down: "Shit, them boys is having the time of their lives!" To which I reply, "Pass me a corndog. Jed and Mr. Drysdale is comin' round the bend in that Four-Runner doohicky!"
>
> The good news, kids: Like virtually all efforts from MTV films, Varsity Blues features rows of lockers and pairs of knockers. Let's hear it for consistency and flicks with high schoolers in strip joints!
>
> Fresh from the middle of a rowboat on Dawson's Creek comes James Van Der Beek in another gig that's Van Der Meek. Jimmy is the sensitive second-string high school quarterback with miles and miles of eyebrow - enough to hide a ball, a case of Gatorade, the Lindbergh baby, and most of the alumni skyboxes when the good seats just aren't good enough. Damn, man! You've got the only eyebrows with a built in 50-yard line! Do you scrimmage or tweeze?
>
> The high point of this flick is when Jimmy visits Darcy, the Queen of all Cheerleaders, who wants in his Van Der Pants. She excuses herself to add whipped cream to a sundae and returns with her privates strategically snow-covered in a pattern only Jack Valenti and the ratings board could have devised. Word has it this scene required extensive retakes, since bowl after bowl of Cool Whip kept slipping off her breasts - not because of the hot lights but because of the hot breathing of the crew, who've had precious little time for gripping and gaffing lately.
>
> Will Jimmy be Matterhorny for Mounts Everest and McKinley? Or will he demurely decline? Maybe it's the thin air - or the lack of proper climbing gear. When James resists Darcy's Elsie-covered charms, a small gaggle of Dawsonettes in the theater applauded, while a much larger group of machoguys groaningly acknowledged this is only a movie, and definitely a fictional one at that.
>
> Her Highnesses Darcy is a gal who yanks her reluctant boyfriend into the laundry room for coy coital shenanigans. When he's in no mood to please, she sits atop the equipment, flicks a switch, and says "let the dryer do the work." If the dryer could do that work, sweetheart, babies would look like blow-dryers instead of daddies, and the umbilical cord would come UL-approved.
>
> Last, but not least, there's Jon Voight as "Coach Kilmer," and I'm not talkin' acting coach, believe me! Jon has an unbeaten record for football wins and - as far as I can tell - eyelid lifts. Take that, Jack Lemmon.
>
> Pigs, as the saying goes, get slaughtered, but hams have long, fruitful careers, and Jon's so smoked and honey-baked, he's got pineapple slices toothpicked to his sides. I guess if you've got ham and cheese, somebody will always give you bread.
>
> In all fairness, though, we have Coach Jon to thank for legendary tight end Angelina Jolie.
>
> More players like that, Jon, and I'm ponying up for the draft!
>
> Copyright 1999 Mark Ramsey. All rights reserved. NO PORTION MAY BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
> ********************
>
> Hey, kids, don't forget to visit the MovieJuice! Site at http://www.moviejuice.com. The pictures are half the fun (and sometimes more than half the laughs)!
>
> ********************
>
> TO UNSUBSCRIBE FROM THIS LIST:
>
> DO NOT REPLY TO THIS EMAIL! Just go to http://www.moviejuice.com and follow the directions at the top of the left frame. It's very easy. NOTE: YOUR NAME CANNOT BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST UNLESS YOU UNSUBSCRIBE USING THE EMAIL ADDRESS YOU REGISTERED WITH). And don't write me lots of mean-spirited crap. I won't read it.
>
> ********************
>
> IF YOUR LINES AREN'T WRAPPING
>
> If the lines extend way off into the right horizon, then look to your browser or email software for a setting called "Wrap Long Lines." Now, if your lines aren't RAPPING, then you should consider that normal.
>
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Subject: [MV] MovieJuice! - SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE - Bard Simpson
Date: 30 Jan 1999 23:19:10 -0500 (EST)
THIS WAS THE WEEK I MET STEVEN SPIELBERG
As he entered the hotel lobby, I approached him, said a quick hello, shook his hand, thanked him for a lifetime of work that has impacted us all more than we can say, and gave him a MovieJuice! business card.
As he walked away reading the card, he looked up, smiled, and said with a glint of recognition: "Ohà MovieJuice!"
Translation: MovieJuice! is on Steven Spielberg's radar. He's a fan.
Remember, I've got no network TV show, no gig at the LA Times. I'm just a guy with a laptop and a skewed sense of humor. Even so, MovieJuice! has spread like a viral wildfire through every nook and cranny of the movie biz. You and the heavyweights have something in common.
Thanks, Steven, for two encouraging words. Coming from you, that's all it takes.
By the way, a close-up, in-person inspection reveals that every one of Steven's gray hairs has a Katzenberg story attached.
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SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE - BARD SIMPSON
by Mark Ramsey
http://www.moviejuice.com
January 31, 1999
I found the letter at the bottom of an antique chest, caked in centuries of dust and grime. Stashed away in the underworld below London's Rose Theatre, this chest has been in a private collection for decades.
The Rose, of course, was the stomping and pomping ground of one Wm. Shakespeare, and this decrepit letter, it seems, was a bitchy missive from one of Shakespeare's actors, a Master Sean QuillPenn.
The note read as follows:
------------
Now that thou has't rejected my inquiry for a private carriage for transport to the province of Houston for the opening of the play Ye Thin Red Line, thou shal't suffer great shame at my hand.
Methinks with all the sixpence thou has't earned owing to my labour and suffering at thy command, Sir Rupert, with thy gigantic counting house, thy might be so generous as to grant me private transport to Houston province! But thou has't sullied my honor, knave!
Sir Rupert, has't thou ever ventured to a commercial carriage port? 'Tis madness, verily! Thou cans't not conceive of chaos like that at O'Hare, or even Midway. "Midway"! Alas, what a name! 'Tis neither here nor there! 'Tis MIDway betwixt. Ergo, 'tis nowhere. What devilish tomfoolery, this!
Commercial carriage??? Dost thou not know that churls, heathen, and crying lads and lasses populate them aplenty? And spacious exit rows require willingness to help fellow travelers, which my soul cans't not abide. My spirit dulls at the thought! Forsooth! I am more likely to wed the Madonna herself!
With abacus, my staff has calculated that the differential cost of private carriage transport is merely 6,000 sixpence! 'Tis nary equivalent to thy watering hole heating expenses for a month! 'Tis the fair market price of one hair on thy formidable ass, Sir Rupert, and woe unto ye who come betwixt that ass and its rightful porcelain throne!
O, executives at 16th Century Fox, thou art peddlers of deer meat, thou art merchants of venison! Fare thee well not, good sirs! Sin hath burnished thy greedy hearts!
Thou shoulds't spend thy time as I - watching the new play Shakespeare in Love. Sir Rupert, thou art ignorant of its charms. 'Tis produced by Lord Bob and Lady Harvey of Weinstein in the province of Miramax. These princes boast ample bosoms and 5:00 shadow with equal aplomb.
I understood not vast portions of this play, but enjoyed the whole in all earnest. By Heaven, 'tis a fine play! Funny and romantic in equal measure.
Master Shakespeare, thou has't been transformed from parochial longhair with receding hairline - much like Sir David of Crosby - to Sir Model of GUESS! Thou scurvy patch! Thou art a romantic lead like I am Sir Horse of Ass! O heaven, O earth! Nay, 'tis envy, methinks. Th' affliction of my mind amends.
Sirs, I am vexed! 'Tis puzzling: Lord Bob and Lady Harvey hath marketed said play as a comedie of love, magic and poetry. Yet there is one truly mass appeal draw about which there is but silence: Gwyneth Paltrow's bare bodkin is on display without precedent! 'Tis poetry indeed, those bubbies! Though less plentiful than Lady Harvey's, they make up in quality what's absent in abundance. Shout it loud from the highest hilltop, and thy grosses will multiply many-fold, methinks! Shakespeare himself hath writ "Leave not a rack behind." 'Tis potent advice!
Sincerely yours in the Love of God and Her Majesty the Queen,
Sean QuillPenn
P.S. If my name is unfamiliar to you, you can check your laptop parchment database under "Movie Buff." 'Tis a peculiar term, but my name is inexplicably listed therein. If thou art part of the studio publicity department, thou can find'st my name under "Movie Duff."
P.P.S. Hark! Henceforth, I shall refrain from scribing scathing letters when angered, for such may turn up as if by miracle in industry trade papers centuries hence. As you from crimes would pardoned be, let your indulgence set me free. By providence, my descendents shalt likely have steadier heads.
Copyright 1999 Mark Ramsey. All rights reserved. NO PORTION MAY BE REPRODUCED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
********************
DONÆT FORGET TO VISIT MOVIEJUICE.COM!
Hey, kids, don't forget to visit the MovieJuice! Site at http://www.moviejuice.com. The pictures are half the fun (and sometimes more than half the laughs)!
********************
TO UNSUBSCRIBE FROM THIS LIST:
DO NOT REPLY TO THIS EMAIL! Just go to http://www.moviejuice.com and follow the directions at the top of the left frame. It's very easy. NOTE: YOUR NAME CANNOT BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST UNLESS YOU UNSUBSCRIBE USING THE EMAIL ADDRESS YOU REGISTERED WITH). And don't write me lots of mean-spirited crap. I won't read it.
********************
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