So, two days ago, I’m taking the “Great Test.” It sucks. I despise it. So, I’m at lunch. Chow down on some Subway and I’m headed back into the Marriot for another dose of pain. Coming out of the Marriot, in Jackson, Mississippi, who do I run into? Billy Bob Thorton. I am bad star-struck. I look up at him in his trucker hat and dark sunglasses and manage, “Hey, man!” He replies, “Hey, brother.” “Sling-Blade” Armageddon” “Mr. Angelina Jolie Himself.” He spoke to me on the streets of Jackson, Mississippi.
Hey, brother to you too.
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