Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL

Pig Gulp

At the movie theatre, I was handed a, get this, "small drink."


What?!

I've seen beakers that size with Dr. Frankenstein's slightly-dinged heads in them.

My wife and I both drank on that sucker and there was enough left over to pour outside and end the two-year Georgia drought.

Grateful tots tipped Donna a beach ball.

If I tried to consume a "small drink" by myself, it would take two hands, bib, and blotting nanny.

I'd be lucky not to put my eyes out with the oar straw.

Excessive liquids are why I always watch movies from the back row. I'm uphill in case of mass Pepsi spillage. Flood insurance.

I have nightmares, watching a family of four float by in a popcorn tub during "Beverly Hills Chihauhau."

Their pups rafting atop a Goobers box.

It's no wonder movies sound so loud. We have to be able to hear over the soda surf.

I don't schedule moviegoing for personal convenience. I schedule for the next Dr. Pepper low tide.


Continued, It's a Large...
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