Let''s pretend we''re living in the world of St. Elmo''s Fire

I'll be the emo girl who goes all suicidal on your asses.

I'll be Dale Biberman, two seconds away from slapping a restraining order on that punk Kirby.

I'll be Jules' step-monster.

I'm the one who got her crazy eye fixed years before.

I'm the strand of pearls Leslie wears because I'm sorta conservative.

I'm the theme song, "Man in Motion".

I'm the bottle of booze Billy will drink before having another throw down with the old lady.

I'll be Mare Winningham's floor to ceiling girdle.

I'm Judd Nelson's cavernous nostrils, flaring in anger at Ally Sheedy.

I'm the saxophone you couldn't get away from in 1985.

I'm the superobvious metaphor of the title, waiting to be explained by Billy to Jules (and by analogy to those in the audience who are just too stupid to figure it out on their own).

I'm Mare Winningham's Chrysler LeBaron convertible, apparently the ne plus ultra of 1980s rich-girl cars

I'll be the guy born in 1990 who has no idea what the fuck you're talking about.

[quote]apparently the ne plus ultra of 1980s rich-girl cars

No, it was the ne plus ultra of *Republican* rich-girl cars. The rest of us were quite content in our Saab 900 convertibles.

I'm the editor who put "The Meaning of Life" on the front page.

I'm the kid wondering how come Emilio Estevez's last name wasn't "Sheen."

. . . and I'm the large cat suit for Jules' step-monster!

Just give me my check.

I'm the earring dangling from Billy's heterosexual ear!

I was the kid disappointed that Billy did not show his bare ass.

I'm the kid in the audience surprised to discover that Brenda Vaccaro has a daughter who is also an actress.

I'm Billy Idol's Neon earring.

I'm "Naomi" the black hooker who never asks Kevin (Andrew McCarthy) if he he wants a "date" because I think he's gay.

I think he's gay because I never see him with a girl and he's always looks real strange.

[It would blow Naomi's mind to find out what went down between Kevin and Leslie. Of course, Kevin IS gay.]

I'm Ron, Jule's "fabulous" gay decorator friend who dresses colorfully, wears plenty of scarves, and drinks large, fruity drinks.

I'm Felicia, Billy's white-trash wife. It's never completely explained why I'm on the periphery of this middle-class, professional, college-educated crowd.

Was I in college and dropped out after getting pregnant. Was I some "townie" who Billy fucked, or is Billy himself white trash and I'm someone he knew previously.

I'll be baby Melody, destined to grow up fat, with poor taste in hair accouterments, and pregnant by 19.

I'm the hot Jewish guy Jules calls to do coke with her.

I'm Mare Winningham's Jewish mother. I like to stage whisper!

I'm Mare Winningham's gertile that's hard to unbutton.

gertile?

My daughter would NEVER marry a gertile!

I'm the coffin in Andrew McCarthy's apartment.

Upon which Brat Packers shall make love.

I'm Mare Winningham's uptight Republican Mom who whispers "cancer" at the dinner table since she finds the word offensive.

And I guess I'm also Rob Lowe's smartass whisper "prison" that I think is really funny and controversial but really just makes Mare want to weep.

I, of course, shall be the cigarette Kevin flicks the ashes off of into the wok.

Hey, 'least he's suckin' on me.

I'm Mare Winningham's Peter Pan collars, bangs and pearls to drive home sledgehammer style that I'm conservative and frigid.

I'm a cardeteria.

I'm Naomi's plastic jack o lantern.

LOL! You guys are crazy!

I'm the trademarked Joel Schumacher billowing curtains (TM) to stress that this is a Moment of Great Importance.

I'm the pillow that is the only thing left in Jules' apartment (except for the Moment of Importance Billowing Curtains)!

[quote]I'm Mare Winningham's Peter Pan collars, bangs and pearls to drive home sledgehammer style that I'm conservative and frigid.

Lol. So true. Like it didn't occur to Schumacher that a girl could be frigid, but still dress like a normal, everyday person instead of like her great aunt.

I'm the love theme that was a hit in the autumn of that year--but which side? The instrumental or the vocal track? I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

I'm the young coed who Billy is flirting with at the bar who wants to fuck him, but who unfortunately came with my friends who I don't want to abandon, a fact which prompts Billy to tell my "this face seats five."

I'm grossed out AND turned on.

I'm the cop-out revelation that Andrew McCarthy is shy not gay.

I'm Dale Biberman's hunky male friend who shows incredible restraint when Kirby shows up and disrupts my romantic winter retreat weekend with Dale.

I did it for Dale. If I had it my way I would have split his head open and let him freeze.

I am the inexplicably leggy chauffeur of a Korean gangster's Mercedes limo, taking Kirby on his appointed romantic rounds.

I'm Wasted Love.

I'm the strategically placed scary ceramic clown head on Jules' bedroom floor as Billy creates St. Elmo's Fire with hairspray and a lighter.

Well I'm the huge 80's looking face on the enormous background wall.

I'm the freezing cold air blowing into the apartment that didn't quite finish off Demi Moore, much to everyone's disappointment.

I'm the huge vial of coke that Jules has that my fourteen-year-old self is convinced *has* to be some fancy, designer make-up right up until she snorts it up her nose.

I'm the New Breed Band, playing dynamic live sets in and around DC, including St. Elmos Bar. While I play fun, energetic bar music, my commercial potential is pretty limited.

My saxophonist isn't reliable and he's sort of an ass, but the girls love him, and my other members put up with him so they can get some "sloppy seconds" or maybe bang a friend.

St. Elmo's Fire has to be on of the worst movies ever. Were any of those preppy wastes of space supposed to be likable or interesting?

And to think that for a hot second that cast of no talents (save for Winningham) was considered the "new generation" of Hollywood actors. Blech.

I'm the battered Underwood typewriter.

I'm the cigarette ash sizzling in the wok.

ok, this is getting ridiculous.

I'm Dale Biberman's innocent room mate who will be brutally slaughtered in a double murder suicide committed by all around C- person Kirby Keger.

I'm the "Many!" that Judd Nelson slept with.

I'm Molly Ringwald. I wasn't in this movie, although right now you're swearing up and down that you're sure I was as the uptight popular princess who did the groovy dance in her pixie boots and... oh right, that was "The Breakfast Club." Now you remember.

I'm Jules' car keys down Billy's pants. You know you want to try to find them. You know you do.

That would be "nameless, faceless many," R58.

I'm Judd Nelson's nostrils.

You won't forget me.

But we'd like to.

Ooh, I'm Billy Joel's "The Stranger" and Ally Sheedy is NOT taking me!

I'm the creeping sense of shame that comes from reading a random interview with Andrew McCarthy from 2010 in which he states that, of all the characters he's played, Kevin is the one he most resembles.

I'm the jukebox straddled by Demi Moore while Billy bleats on his sax. Somebody please Windex me.

Let's rock!

I am the Dean of Admissions at Georgetown University, who is quite sure we never would have admitted that piece of trash Billy.

I'm the Arabs, spending our oil money on a wonky eyed coke head party girl.

I'm the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Mare Winningham eats while she has her epiphany that she is at last self-sufficient. And I'm the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich she ever ate.

I'm Andie MacDowell's inexpressive face, failing to make sense of the scene where I react with apparent indifference to the revelation that I'm being stalked.

Was it implied that Kevin was actually gay?

I always assumed he was genuinely in love with Ally Sheedy.

Naomi the prostitute says she thinks he's gay.

Jules, before he sleeps with Leslie, is convinced he's gay and wants to set him up with her gay neighbor.

Did you see the movie?

i ♥ these type of threads

I'm the big Woody Allen poster in Andrew's apt.

I am all the times it's gonna get out of hand that Billy keeps promising but never materializes.

I"m the welfare mom who tells Wendy to get herself some hot clothes and a man!

I'm the lingerie sales girl who fucked Alec in the dressing room.

I'm the coked up and drunk bar patron who is fingering a jacknife. The next time those obnoxious twats at the table next to me scream that"Uh boogita boogita hoe oh oh oh" in my ear, there'll be a stabbing.

I'm the halting cadence which Billy uses to state: You're not. Gonna believe. How outta hand. It's gonna be.

I am the Northern Virginia high school student, in grad school when the movie came out, convinced that the filmakers had been spying on my life and my Friday Nights at the Tombs. I also am increidbly incensed that the interior of St. Elmo's is the Tombs, which is down an incredibly long flight of stairs off a side street on P Street, but the exterior is the Crazy Horse on Wisconson Ave. Epic Fail.

where did that phrase: boogita boogita hoe oh oh oh" come from? anyone know?

I'm the WHITE welfare queen who admonishes Mare Winnigham to get herself a man!

r82, I actually do know the story behind it, which is sad and pathetic.

According to Rob Lowe, it was something that the cast was joking about on-set, about how sometimes you'll be someplace, and there's a group of people all whispering and laughing in the corner, and you're convinced that they're whispering and laughing about you. So that turned into "Boogita, boogita, oh ho ho!", which the cast would do together on-set as sort of an inside joke, and then stuck in the movie as their "thing."

At least that's how I remember the story going.

thanks r84

I'm the fat chick, who Alec, in full flared-nostril glory, is surprised to find out isn't in Kevin's bedroom.

I'm Republican Congressman (or Senator) Hodges and I represent Alec's "moving up" in the world.

I wasn't going to hire him, but Alec's dad is a UVA Law classmate who practically begged me to hire his son.

I'm Leslie's pearls and I vow to never stop being worn. Even in the shower, even during sex, I will persist.

We're the University of Maryland students running rampant through Georgetown, apparently causing no consternation among our friends. Or our verisimilitude scrutinizer, r81.

I'm Andie McDowell, using my own voice in this movie.

I'm Thom Bierdz, and although I'm listed in the credits, I can't seem to find myself in this movie...

I'm Jules's crimping iron.

I'm all the cocaine these entitled twats hoovered up.

I'm the coke being snorted off of Demi's ass during filming breaks.

A Red Dawn thread would have been better.

I'm Howie Krantz, Wendy's future husband.

watching it now on Encore.

omg - it's really falls in the category: so bad it's good

I'm Mahler's Ninth.

I'm Leslie saying "Alec" not Alex but ALEC, very distinctly.

I'm Jules' pink apartment.

I'm the copy of The Stranger that not's leaving this house

I'm the girl who drinks that the band is singing about in "Give her a Little Drop More."

I'm the roof where Billy adjourns to under all of that family heat.

I'm "Kirbo" Kirby Kaeger and my plotline is pointless.

I am a very closeted gay kid who went to see the movie, thinking that it would show me the hope and promise of life away from this hellhole I call home.

And then after the movie I get so depressed I drink a fifth of vodka and take a handful of baby aspirin.

I'm Billy's ugly wife and homely kid. Why can't Billy find a good looking girl when he's so pretty?

That's your world, R105. Bad Answer.

I'm the Arab word for gang-bang...I think.

I'm everybody's heart that has been broken by Billy

I'm the late 1980s sports highlight reel editor who used "Man In Motion" as background music, and intro- outro- sports upddate music at least 5,000 times.

Threads like this remind why I love DL.

I'm the dinosours eatin all the peoplez after they get married so young.

Am I part of your props?

I'm the Entertainment Weekly 25th anniversary celebration.

I'm Kirby's red bow tie.

I'm Kirby's hot bubble butt.

I'm the very badly delivered "Let's Rock!"

I'm Mare Winningham, and I'm the only one who'll move on to bigger and better things, namely an Oscar nomination.

I am the droplets of sweat that Billy shakes off his forehead onto the girls in the front row.

I'm the pack of cigarettes Billy stuffs into his coat pocket as his boards the bus to his new life.

I'm the Korean gangster Kim, wondering what these characters are up to now.

See link for answer.

I'm every single permed mullet in the audience.

I'm Leslie's glass full of Absolut vodka that Jules pours into her own glass for a pre- bedtime snack after Alec pulls Leslie away for sex.

I'm the mix of mall pizza, popcorn and wine coolers lingering in your 15 year-old sinuses.

I'm Jules' Jeep, which would have been more appropriate had Jodie Foster accepted the role.

I'm Emilio Estevez's total absence of sex appeal, made worse by playing a character with a dog's name, in a movie with Rob Lowe.

I hate this movie with a passion.

I'm the humbling handful of Billy's hair in the shower this morning.

I'm the opening scene that superficially introduces each Character Type, practically by costume alone, except the Ally Sheedy character, who appears to be Mare Winnigham's sister wife.

WW for R13!

I'm the blinding white light that causes the skid.....TREE......IMPACT....that causes the metaphysical precision collision.

I'm Jules' boss, who is in fact not fucking her after she was fired.

R125 is a prognosticating thief.

I'm the cascade of wine cooler empties flowing down the aisles. Gin and juice doesn't roll.

I'm the toilet in the mens room at St Elmo's bar that gives Billy a cool 'wet look'.

I'm Jules's hideous faux fox scarf! I'm on TVGUIDE network right now!

I am the group of embarrassed twenty-somethings watching the film soon after its release. We, nor anyone we know, are anything like the people on-screen and it scares us that the group of teens sitting in front of us nonetheless think the characters are true, and aspire to be like them.

The wet look is in asshole.

I'm Georgetown University, recoiling in shame.

I'm Kirby's laundry.

It's on cable right now. Gawd, Emilio Estevez was a thick 'n juicy little number back then.

I can STILL feel St. Elmo`s Fire burning in me!

I'm the hand that apparently lets things get out of me.

I'm the tight jeans that hug Emilio Estevez's massive thighs...

[quote]I can STILL feel St. Elmo`s Fire burning in me!

Antibiotics will cure that.

I'm Jules's gay neighbor, who is SO relieved that Kevin is not gay.

I'm Rob Lowe's Worst Supporting Actor Razzie that probably should have went to Judd Nelson.

No one I knew acted that way -- it was some old schlomo's fantasy of post college kids in 1985

Watching this epic movie right now

I'm Melanie's rattle...

I'm the Columbia torch lady providing the actual fire.

I'm Mare Winningham looking up at the pretty pretty face and sumptuous body of Rob Lowe as he penentrates my virginal do-gooder social-worker hymen.

He does this after listening patiently to my dull tale about eating a peanut butter sandwich that I made in my very own apartment, gosh golly.

I'm the jukebox Jules undulates on, during Billy's sax solo with the band. I want someone to drag me to the river so I can sink and die.

I am Dale Biberman's handsome boyfriend who decides that, after a night of his girl being accosted by some psycho who drove all the way into the mountains, now would be a good time to get his camera and take a picture. To immortalize this wonderful weekend.

I am the moviegoer so offended that I began writing the script for "Reality Bites" that very same night!

I'm the shower door that cannot withstand the weight of "not the fat chick"

So many of my favorites have already been taken!

I am the Springsteen albums that will not leave this apartment. I am also that massive blowup Nike ad mural of the runners in Alex and Leslie's apartment.

I'm the awkward interactions Steve Parr has with the cast at the end of the horrible music video.

I'm my apartment on 17th Street, to which Kevin would sneak away for secret gay assignations when he could. He was a surprisingly powerful top.

I'm that half-hearted, limping "Boogita Boogita Boogita Ah Ah Ah" chant that they do toward the second half, when everything is turning to shit.

"I'm "Naomi" the black hooker who never asks Kevin (Andrew McCarthy) if he he wants a "date" because I think he's gay."

We're Sherman Hemsley, Clifton Davis, and Roz Ryan, who one year later are trying to prop up your bad acting in a sitcom called Amen.

I'm tomorrow's brunch. Probably one of the last times all seven of us will be together as our lives move in different directions.

I'm Rob Lowe, and who knew I would be the only one that still had a major career after this movie.

LOL, R15, five years later if you are still around. That headline has always made me nuts.

I am also the same newspaper editor who puts the headline "U.S. DIPLOMAT" or something like that under a picture of the Korean guy in the newspaper -- just when Emilio is describing him as "U.S. Diplomat." For the slow ones in the audience.

lol the cast looks so unimpressed with this mulleted loser.

Andrew McCarthy was so hot. I remember seeing him in Mannequin another classic film. My very first crush as a young boy.

I'm Leslie's career. A big stink is made about how it's important enough to come before Alec, but it's least of the seven that's explored. The drawing table indicates it's either an artist or architect.

[quote]I'm Rob Lowe, and who knew I would be the only one that still had a major career after this movie.

Ahem...

Rob Lowe and Ashton Kutcher would have made much prettier children than the Willises.

Shall we move on to ABOUT LAST NIGHT??

[quote]Shall we move on to ABOUT LAST NIGHT??

Hated it. Not even that sweet little Rob Lowe could save this turkey.

Rob Lowe must be low on cash, all his movies are on television lately.

Might be fun but "About Last Night" is nowhere near as fun to make fun of, maybe because it has a Mamet base instead of the godawful "Elmos Fire" script.

I will say: I am the endless montages set to bad songs by artists like Sheena Easton which helped lead to them being made fun of in "Team America" later.

I'm the collection of LP record albums that the breaking-up couple fights over. Judd Nelson's mega-nostrils are flaring as they bicker about the Pretenders and Carly Simon and Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel.

Eventually he bellows "WASTED LOVE!!!" real real loud, and throws something that breaks something.

It's SO sad!

I have a funny story about Judd Nelson auditioning for a lead movie role for a major studio and director, his potential comeback -- and how he did fine but the director came out much later and found Judd still in the outer office, talking on a personal call on the producer's phone. He had made himself at home behind the desk, ha. So much for the comeback; he went to TV soonafter.

He was, I will say, nice enough, though, not a dick. Or on his best behavior, phone etiquette aside.

I'm the opening title credits, which are impossible to read sine you cannot see RED over the image of the cast walking!

"I'm the awkward interactions Steve Parr has with the cast at the end of the horrible music video." - R157

You mean, JOHN Parr?

I am the giant, creepy, china Pierrot (clown) head, complete with ruffles and pointy hat in Jules's apt.

I'm the panties not worn by Jules when she attends Kirby's party at Mr. Kim's house and does a twirl while wearing a dress.

I will be the orange color that pervades everything

5 year old thread.....let's not and say we did.

Sorry R176. I was listening to Steve Perry when I posted that.

"Jules, open the door! We love you!" - Ally Sheedy in her worst performance and that's saying a lot

I'm the Georgetown fire department, destined to be called because of all those opened paint cans Wendy has left in front of the roaring fire.

Those of us that were the same age and in the same place as the characters in this film were horrified by the script.

I'm the Columbia torch lady, here to provide actual fire.

Has the main cast of SEF ever had a reunion like on GMA or something? Piers Morgan? It's important and I need to know this before I go to bed. Thx.

Oh, and I don't mean Ron the decorator, Myra at the poor people lunch place, or Jules' step-monster.

I can feel St. Elmo's Fire burning in me.

I'm fifty and even I can remember enough about this shit ass movie to play this game.

I'm the hot salesgirl Judd Nelson fucks in the dressing room buying the sexy underwear he gives to Ally Sheedy who is embarrassed to wear it.

I'm Andrew McCarthy's excitement that I'm going to be a star!

So there were six of you r189!

The Boomers benefiting from nepotism didn't know what to make of -- or particularly like -- the generation represented by the characters in that film.

I'm a proud participant in this original thread!

Thom Bierdz was an extra in this film! He was cute. I had hoped a big career for him.

I'm the extra absolute

Like you weren't all about nepotism R192. Sing us another pretty fable.

I'm Ron and I'm SO fabulous!

I'm love, an illusion created by lawyers, to further another illusion called marriage, to make a need for divorce, and then the illusionary need for divorce lawyers

Of all the shitty movies I've loved this one fills me with the most joy!

I'm St Elmo's Fire. Can you feel me burning in you?

That's so weird r114, because I'm the 30th Anniversary special issue from 2015, and neither of us is as old as this thread.

To say nothing of Mahler, R173.

WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR ANNUAL SUMMER VIEWING OF THIS GREAT CLASSIC???

I'm the patrons of this college bar, wondering why these annoying old people keep showing up every night.

I'm 35 and just graduated from college.

I forgot how funny this thread was.

I'm the airy, bright, huge, fairly cool loft apartment (with a glass block divider) that Leslie and Alex (who clearly come from money) live in. I contain lots of record albums and a wok that Kevin used as an ashtray.

I'll be the rat that scurried across your foot looking for spilled popcorn in that run down old theatre you went to to save a few dollars.

I'm the University of Maryland in College Park, Maryland, filling in for Georgetown University where Alec, Kirbo, Kevin, Leslie, Jules, Wendy and Billy all went to college. Those scenes of the happy group walking across the quad and of Billy returning to to see if he could find work (only to be told that "we need someone to get us some good drugs") is actually me, not Georgetown.

I still do!

I'm an extra in a scene shot on 18th Street in Adams Morgan. For real.

I'm Kirby's parents, pissed that we spent all that money to send our kid to Georgetown, only to have him end up being a waiter

It was a metaphysical, precision, collision!

I'd be so disgusted if I sent my kid to fucking Georgetown and they turned out like that loser Billy. I assume his parents are well off and paid his tuition because we KNOW he didn't get a scholarship yet he is on welfare and living in a slum?

I'm Jennifer Connelly playing the long-suffering wife, Felicia, who barely makes it out alive.

That was not Jennifer Connelly.

Judd Nelson was never attractive even as a young man.

Boogita, boggita, boogita (sp?), bump, bump, bump

I just want to bang Rob Lowe.

Fuck, how do you Olds all remember these movies in such detail?

Do you watch them over and over again?

I hated the theme song from St Elmo's...St. Elmo's. John Parr and his power mullet unleashed this torment upon us. It's sooo contrived and pedestrian, I just can't... The movie was just as disappointingly boring as Parr's song. I only watched (not in it's entirety) because I was the so-called "BRAT PACK" generation. And even then, ANDREW McCARTHY's hot, dorkalicious made even that bearable.

The inspiring lyrics to the song r221 slandered: Growin' up, you don't see the writing on the wall Passin' by, movin' straight ahead, you knew it all But maybe sometime if you feel the pain You'll find you're all alone, everything has changed

Play the game, you know you can't quit until it's won Soldier on, only you can do what must be done You know in some way you're a lot like me You're just a prisoner and you're tryin' to break free

I can see a new horizon underneath the blazin' sky I'll be where the eagle's flying higher and higher Gonna be your man in motion, all I need is a pair of wheels Take me where my future's lyin', St. Elmo's Fire

Burning up, don't know just how far that I can go (just how far I go) Soon be home, only just a few miles down the road I can make it, I know I can You broke the boy in me, but you won't break the man

I can see a new horizon underneath the blazin' sky I'll be where the eagle's flying higher and higher Gonna be your man in motion, all I need is a pair of wheels Take me where my future's lyin', St. Elmo's Fire

I can climb the highest mountain, cross the wildest sea I can feel St. Elmo's Fire burnin' in me, burnin' in me

Just once in his life a man has his time, and my time is now, I'm coming alive I can hear the music playin', I can see the banners fly Feel like you're back again, and hope ridin' high Gonna be your man in motion, all I need is a pair of wheels Take me where my future's lyin', St. Elmo's Fire

I can see a new horizon underneath the blazin' sky I'll be where the eagle's flying higher and higher Gonna be your man in motion, all I need is a pair of wheels Take me where my future's lyin', St. Elmo's Fire

I can climb the highest mountain, cross the wildest sea I can feel St. Elmo's Fire burnin' in me

Burnin', burnin' in me, I can feel it burnin' Oooh, burnin' inside of me... (to fade)

WHET our annual springtime viewing of SEF???

Behold

St. Elmo's fire is harmless static electricity, which is intentionally undercutting the words to the song since it implies lack of power, just sound and fury signifying nothing.

The Sturm and Drang of unappreciated genius?

When is this year’s annual viewing?!

I just watched this on Showtime. It's as bad, yet watchable, as I remember.

I’m Billy’s sweaty wifebeater.

I'd rather go to St. Elmo's Steakhouse and get the world famous shrimp cocktail.

I’m r98, even though I didn’t think I discovered Datalounge until 2013.

I'm Judy, telling Jules that she's advanced on her salary by two months and she has no check for her.

I'm the paint on Wendy's hands as she fucks for the first time with Billy. Billy's odd request probably wasn't so much for the sex but probably to prevent Wendy from telling anymore stupid anecdotes, like the PB&J sandwich, about living on her own.

I can’t feel it burning In me!

Real talk. If they all went to Georgetown why did half of them end up being sick losers? And why can’t Billy pay his rent? Who paid for his education? Was he just some hobo who hung out on campus?

I’m wasted love

"If they all went to Georgetown why did half of them end up being sick losers?"

Is Georgetown or any elite university a guarantee against becoming a loser? I don't think so.

[quote] "If they all went to Georgetown why did half of them end up being sick losers?"

in real life or in the movie? In the movie they're getting it together in the year or two after college. A process people can now stretch to 35!

[quote]Is Georgetown or any elite university a guarantee against becoming a loser?

Georgetown was not particularly "elite" then. It was only ten years into its recovery from its status as nothing more than an expanded Catholic high school. WHEN did it become "elite," some of us wonder?

That said, the Jesuits did forbid the movie to shoot on their campus, causing the filmmakers to substitute the University of Maryland College Park campus, as far from being Georgetown-like as you could get in the DC area. They must have had a bad experience with The Exorcist. Or maybe Jules and Billy were just too trashy.

I'm the juxtaposition of cocaine and product placement for Coca-Cola.

I'm the life affirming peanut butter and jelly sandwich made by Wendy.

I’m the Halloween party where trashy a Billy and his lady Felicia make a scene and end it with a kiss. Typical white trash couple drama.