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(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] And you fuck people up for a living. That don’t make me you. Capisce, shitbird?at capeesh, phr.
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] And you fuck people up for a living. That don’t make me you. Capisce, shitbird? (con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] I need an extra fifty. Two patrolmen at twenty apiece and a dime for the watch commander at Hollywood Station.at dime, n.
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] I need money. If your snitch-fund’s green, I’ll get you some fucking-A collars.at green, adj.1
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] In the back seat, with cases of Walker Black and Cutty Sark, is Bud’s partner – dick stensland. Older, but also a tough hump, ‘Stens’ sucks on a pint of Old Crow.at hump, n.1
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] The essence of sleaze, Sid is the publisher-photographer-writer of Hush-Hush magazine and keeper of inside dirt supreme.at inside, adj.
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] Meyer Harris Cohen, Mickey C to his fans. He’s the big moocher, local L.A. color to the nth degree. You know Mickey.at moocher, n.
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] The essence of sleaze, Sid is the publisher-photographer-writer of Hush-Hush magazine and keeper of inside dirt supreme.at sleaze, n.
(con. 1950) L.A. Confidential [film script] A club photographer pops snapshots, but the real action is on the floor where Mickey Cohen does a wicked ‘Lindy Hop’ with three different girls at once.at wicked, adj.
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