Zodiac

The night I met Scottish folk-rock troubador Donovan I also tried to pull the ol' switcharoo and trade in my lameduck girlfriend for her hotter, funner friend. [Know where this is headed?]

We were all drinking downtown—me; the girl I was dating; her friend, who I wanted to be; and Donovan, who was unwinding with a Macallan after playing a show in town. The girls were tickled with the kitchy thrill of meeting the guy who sang "Mellow Yellow" and we all drank ourselves silly while being all ironic starfuckery with the guy.

Later that night, fucking wasted and having a nightcap at my house and listening to records (sans Donovan), I decided it was time to put the moves on my date's friend. My date was passed out on the couch, The Best of Donovan was playing on the stereo, and I told the friend how I'd like fuck her right now because she was super cool and my girlfriend looked like a goddamn troll and sucked in the sack.

...

You know that first scene in the film, where the kids are in the car, super ready to get it on, and then the killer drives up and shoots the shit out of them all cold and methodical—pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, blood everywhere, screaming, twitching, gurgling—then leaves, then comes back, and unloads a few more rounds into the poor fuckers? I say those kids got off easy.