I can’t really pinpoint the first time I saw Charlie Sheen in a movie in the same way I can’t really tell you about the first time I ate processed cheese, wore open-toed shoes, or read the word “sluice.”I must have first seen Sheen in Red Dawn.What’s that?You didn’t remember he was in Red Dawn?Neither did I.Not until I recently gave his film credits a fresh glance.I remembered Lea Thompson, C. Thomas Howell, Patrick Swayze, and even Harry Dean Stanton, but Sheen’s name in that roster led to a perusal of Red Dawn clips on Youtube to absolutely prove his presence.Because I still didn’t believe it.I’d seen that film over a dozen times.But, alas, it’s true.He’s a main character.

If you imagine in a dream some sort of bank vault, your subconscious will instinctively shove all your secrets in there, typed single-spaced on resume paper with “confidential” stamped across the top in red ink.That’s how it works in Inception, anyway.This is your brain: an empty dining room with sliding doors and paper lanterns.This is your brain with secrets: a combination safe behind a painting on said dining room wall.My, aren’t you clever?My brain, however, keeps its secrets in a hollowed-out coconut guarded by Gilligan. Or is it Mary Anne?I’m not telling!