I don't know if it was because I was looking for pictures with a 10mm lens on my back in the middle of the night, and when I got home, I found the Gangster Number One. Really long time no see.
Should it be stated that this movie is not suitable for the post-80s generation? Oh sorry, can't turn my head, so 80 years old is also 28 years old...
isn't that the time to listen to Jim Morrison wear my beloved Zegna to bed and put a Desert Eagle in the back of his neck?
Freddie fucking Mays. My fucking Maze.
If there's only one movie I can't help but read along to, it's Gangster Number One.
If there's only one movie with an actor who can pull off a Jaws thriller, it's Gangster Number One.
If there's only one movie that can tell you what luxury and loneliness are, it's Gangster Number One.
If there's only one movie that makes you want to go in and live, even if it costs you to die, it's Gangster Number One.
The highest state of the movie is to let you forget all the actors, forget all the tidbits, forget all the sound tracks, every fucking thing. This is the charm of Gangster Number One. You will only remember Freddie, but Ermenegildo Zegna; you will only remember Karren, but Pamela Courson; you will only remember the shock and loneliness of the picture, but you will think about buying a wide-angle 10mm wide-angle; you will only remember the golden age Only the night will only remember Sin City!
But if there's only one thing to remember, it's that nightmare called Freddie Mays.
Freddie fucking Mays. My fucking Maze…
But if you think it's a man's love and hate for another man, you're wrong. Of course, it is not easy to go wrong at this step.
Why am I drinking Bacardi Rum with Grey Goose standing still?
We fucking wait.
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