Saturday, August 8, 2009

The Destruction of My Childhood

John Hughes died... which you probably already knew. The writer of some of the most formative movies of my childhood (I just KNEW I would meet Ferris... one day), he is already greatly missed.

Who else is going to die that is a sharp, painful reminder of my own mortality? So help me god, if it's Wil Wheaton, I'm never leaving the house again. I'll just be sitting there, watching an endless loop of Star Trek, the Next Generation episodes and crying about how this was never supposed to happen to Gordie.

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