Saturday, March 26, 2005
Service: * * 1/2
Food: * * *
Ambience: * * *
Babe Count: * * * *
Unbearably awesome news... Damon's got a script under consideration with a feature film production company. He's written his fourth draft, and it's been accepted!
"Fuckin' total congrats, dude!!!" I say, and we hug across the table, and then smack tap-water glasses together in a huge "Cheers!"
He sits back, almost smug, but justifiably nervous. In the film world, it's not a deal until the cameras start rolling. Up to that point, the production can stop at any time. Cos in terms of money, everything other than shooting the film is cheap. When the shooting starts, the money starts flowing. And it's like an open drain at a beerfest when that happens.
"Jesus," he says, raising his eyebrows at a g-string peeking out of a seventeen-year-old waistline. "Great crop of babes today!"
"I'd do her," I say. "But will she do me???"
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