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1. Rocky.... Ain't gonna be no rematch. Don't want one.
2. My Cousin Vinny.... Perhaps the laws of physics cease to exist on your stove. Were these magic grits? Did you buy them from the same guy who sold Jack his beanstalk beans?
3. Forrest Gump..... That kid may be the stupidest son of a bitch I've ever seen, but damn he can run!
4. There's Something About Mary.... What the hell is Brett Favre doing here? I'm in town to play the Dolphins, you dumb ass!
5. Jerry MaGuire...... You're my motherfucker! Show me the money!
Uh! Congratulations, you're still my agent.
2. My Cousin Vinny.... Perhaps the laws of physics cease to exist on your stove. Were these magic grits? Did you buy them from the same guy who sold Jack his beanstalk beans?
3. Forrest Gump..... That kid may be the stupidest son of a bitch I've ever seen, but damn he can run!
4. There's Something About Mary.... What the hell is Brett Favre doing here? I'm in town to play the Dolphins, you dumb ass!
5. Jerry MaGuire...... You're my motherfucker! Show me the money!
Uh! Congratulations, you're still my agent.
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In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from Shawshank prison. All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub. I used to think it would take six-hundred years to tunnel under the wall with it. Old Andy did it in less than twenty. Oh, Andy loved Geology, I guess it appealed to his meticulous nature. An ice age here, million years of mountain building there. Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really, pressure, and time. That, and a big god-damned poster. Like I said, in prison a man will do anything to keep his mind occupied. It turns out Andy's favourite hobby was totin' his wall through the exercise yard, a handful at a time. I guess after Tommy was killed, he decided he had been here just about long enough. Andy did like he was told, buffed those shoes to a high mirror shine. The guard simply didn't notice, neither did I... I mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a mans shoes? Andy crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want too. Five-Hundred yards... that's the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.
