At home we had a pet skunk. Mama used to call it Justin Matisse. Do you
think that's just a coincidence? All day long she would to scream, "You
stink Justin Matisse!" Then one day she just picked up a club and killed
Justin Matisse: Now that's a sad story.
Bernice Pruitt: If you liked the skunk, which we didn't.
I know, I know, this is a chick-flick. But for those of us who gave huge rations of shit to the poor slobs who dared to date our divorced mothers, little Mae Whitman's abuse of Harry Connick, jr approaches something like legend, in 1998's Hope Floats."
posted by Jay Amicarella