This is all over the Internets today, but I just had to put it up, because it almost made me cry. A little piece of my childhood is gone. John Hughes is dead. I was 15 (going on 16) when "Sixteen Candles" came out, and it's one of my favorite flicks of all time. Being an outsider in high school, I came to identify with the characters in his movies (Anthony Michael Hall in particular) and hoped to someday marry my own Jake Ryan and live happily ever after. In a way, I did. Thanks, John...
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