The Film Junkie's Private Stash

Well, hello. I didn't expect you to stop by! Welcome to my opium den my friend. Every pleasure is available inside. From the hyperkinetic violence of Mr. John Woo, to the moody love poems of Wim Wenders, the refined filth of John Waters, the surrealistic acid trips of Luis Brunuel, and the other surrealistic acid trips of Terry Gilliam. And so much, much more.


Breast feed that, I dare you.


Are you still hesitant about coming inside?. Well, I see that's how it is, huh. Yeah, I thought so. You're proably the kind of guy who thought Erin Brockovich was Soderbergh's best film, and Robin Williams deserves twenty million dollars a picture. Yes, eh. Well, go somewhere else. We don't want your kind here. And, to be entirely honest, we don't really want your kind over there either.


Don't know what's happening in this picture? Well, I've seen the movie, and I don't really know either.


Are you still worried. Oh, I see. It's the price that's got you nervous. Hey man, haven't you heard? The first one's always free.


A hard boiled detective in space. With Anna Karina. And a gun. Or something.



-An index of various moving pictures

-An index of various persons, of all ages, genders, professions, and textures

-A nice, long, chewy list of links to other sites that are not nearly as good as this one

-Some interesting urban legends about movies, which may very well be false, you be the judge

-Sign Guestbook View Guestbook


You are theCounterth person to take a hit off the celluloid pipe.


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