I'm a pop culture junkie cursed with the ability to retain detailed knowledge of disgusting amounts of the movies, TV and music I voraciously consume. Sometimes it stresses me out over things that shouldn't stress me out. Like not being able to get six degrees of Bacon (a game almost everybody in the world has forgotten about) in less than two movies on someone like Bud Cort (Cort's in M*A*S*H with Donald Sutherland who's in JFK with Bacon. Only took two minutes and didn't consult IMDB. Nice.) Or when people act like something that's totally obvious is obscure.
The other day, two of the paper's production guys were talking about the burger scene in Pulp Fiction. You know, "Le Big Mac," etc. I shouldn't have been annoyed by that. I like the movie and not everyone has my movie OCD. But I muttered under my breath "Yeah, but what do they call the whopper?"
Will, in an impeccably timed moment, said "How should I know? I didn't go to Burger King."
That was, in my opinion, pretty much right on.
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