So what I’m understanding here, correct me if I’m wrong, is that you’re not giving me any money, so now I’m left, basically, with nothing. I’m left with zero, in which, what can I do with zero? You know, what can I… I can’t do anything with it. I need to… this is my life here we’re talking about, we’re not just talking about, you know, something else, we’re talking about my life, you know? And it’s forcing me to do something I don’t wanna do: to leave. To go out and just leave and go home and say… make a clean cut here and say “no way, Corky. You’re not putting up with these people.” And I’ll tell you why I can’t put up with you people, because you’re bastard people. That’s what you are, you’re just bastard people and I’m going home and I’m gonna… I’m gonna bite my pillow is what I’m gonna do!
Well then, I just HATE you, and I hate your ass FACE!
Here’s the Remains of the Day lunchbox. Kids don’t like eating at school, but if they have a Remains of the Day lunchbox they’re a lot happier.
My first show was Barefoot in the Park, which was an absolute smash, but my production on the stage of Backdraft was what really got them excited. This whole idea of ‘In Your Face’ theatre really affected them. The conceptualization, the whole abstraction, the obtuseness of this production to me was what was interesting. I wanted the audience to feel the heat from the fire, the fear, because people don’t like fire, poked, poked in their noses, you know when you get a cinder from a barbeque right on the end of your nose and you kind of make that face, you know, that’s not a good thing, and I wanted them to have the sense memory of that. So during the show I had someone burn newspapers and send it through the vents in the theatre. And well, they freaked out, and ‘course the fire Marshall came over and they shut us down for a couple of days.
It’s like in a Hitchcock movie, you know, where they tie you up in a rubber bag and throw you in the trunk of a car. You find people.
Everybody dance!
It’s a Zen thing, like how many babies fit in a tire.
People don’t like to have fire poked, poked in their noses.
I got off that boat with nothing but my dancers belt and a tube of CHAPSTICK!
Ima… I’m going to fight for my country! To fight… and yes, perhaps die… so that young men from here to Timbuktu can feel the wind of freedom blowin’ through their hairrrrr!
What the city council did was really… give me a challenge, and it’s a challenge that I am going to… accept. It’s like in the olden days, in the… days of France, when men would slap each other with their gloves… say, y’know… “D’Artagnan!”… y’know, “how dare you talk to me like that, you!,” and… smack ’em!
I was shopping for my wife Bonnie. I buy most of her clothes and Mrs Pearl was in the same shop! And it just was an accident you know, we started talking… about panty hose, she was saying… whatever that’s not the point of the story but what the point is is that through this accidental meeting… it’s like a Hitchcock movie you know where you’re thrown into a rubber bag and put in the trunk of a car, you find people. You find them. Something, is is it karma? Maybe. But we found him, that’s the important thing. And I got Bonnie a wonderful pantsuit.
I’d like you to close your eyes now, and I’d like you to try something, all right? Now what are you thinkin’, what are you feeling right now, with your eyes closed?
You’re squeezing your boobies out!
Boy, I didn’t know deers could… could do that, you know?
I love you too pa. You taught me how to be a man. How to wrastle a steer to the ground and apply a fiery brand to his hind-quarters. And yes, how to love a woman. How the smell of her hair can drive a man wild!
Well, it’s like, how many babies fit the tire? You know, that old joke.
