Last night I got sucked into the incredible cinematic achievement known as Purple Rain - a movie I saw many times when it came out because I was certain Prince and I would be very happy together, if he just knew where to find me.
The stunning visuals of industrial Minneapolis, dark, smoky clubs and basement apartments support a brilliant screenplay that includes poignant, insightful lines such as, "I'm so tired of this," and "You never let me have any fun."
There's no statute of limitations on asking for your money back from the Purple Artist, is there? I'm out, like, $30 - maybe more. So is my high school best friend and millions of other victims.
Actually, I'd be happy with a partial reimbursement that covers all the scenes including Prince or Appolonia. Everything with Morris and Jerome is still really entertaining. Where is Jerome these days?
After the movie VH1 showed one of my all-time favorites - Pop Up Videos, of Prince. Bubbles popping onto the screen talked about doves and pigeons being the same bird, biologically, and that they don't cry, they "coo," then in a close up frame of Prince singing, they popped up a picture of Joyce Dewitt - wearing the same hairstyle.
Earlier in the week I got sucked into Sid & Nancy for the eleventy hundredth time. There are times when I can't watch it - there's only so much junkie sadness one can take - but I still love it. You are sellin' healthy anarchy, but as long as you're an addict, you be full of shit!
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