It's hard to imagine anybody had a worse Sunday than the Denver Broncos, but Philip Seymour Hoffman probably did. He definitely won't be getting another shot at a ring. Hoffman's soul hit its heroin limit and took flight in a New York City apartment early Sunday morning. Hoffman fell off the drug wagon this past year after a nearly two decade run of being fat and sober and pretty fucking talented. Which just goes to show that sticking a needle in your arm full of morphine acetylated in a Jalisco garage is still riskier than playing gin rummy with your grandma.
Naturally, everybody in Hollywood that could muster a LinkedIn 6th degree connection or better with Hoffman took to the social media airwaves.
Thanks, Samwise, that puts Hoffman's death in perspective. Got any succor in that eulogy bag for the Broncos fans?