I have stared at this poster for about half an hour, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Specifically, trying to figure out what the hell is about to happen. I still have no idea. Is Dale Ellis going to use that basketball to kill that man holding a newspaper with Ellis’ own name on it? I’ve even tried closing my eyes to imagine myself in Ellis’ position to figure out what I would do if I were a super tall guy in a trench coat and sweats with fingerless gloves requesting silence as I plot nefarious deeds against a man whose testicles are about to drop out of his shorts. I Quantum Leapt myself into the universe of this poster, and all I did was yell, “Hey asshole!” and then attempt to hit the guy with the ball, but forgot to open the window, so the ball smashed through the glass and landed about eight feet away from ball shorts, and I ran away in shame.
I still don’t know what the hell is happening in this poster.
“I was never into hanging out on the Sunset Strip. When it came to Guns N’ Roses and the scene that was going on then, that was something we pretty much hated.
That was what we had to scratch and claw through, and as soon as we got established enough to leave, we never went back.”