Thank you, thank you. This means a lot to me. It means I’m old.
Hollywood called me, asking me “How much to do a movie with Catherine Zeta-Jones?” “I said $50,000.” They called back, “How about $20,000?” I said “I’ll pay it!”
Ha. Catherine Zeta-Jones’s dressing room was next to mine. There was a little hole in the wall. I let her look.
But seriously, I miss Mel Gibson’s acting—as often as I can.
How ’bout that.
You folks see some of these other movies out there?
Roman Polanski’s wife told him that she thought his Pianist was too long.
I went to see The Hours. It wasn’t too good, but it promised what it delivered.
Seriously, folks. Talk about long.
I went to see Lord of the Rings, but I couldn’t find that dancing Irish guy anywhere.
Ba-dum bump. Ha!
I saw Woody Allen’s Hollywood Ending. Not the movie, I mean his career.
I’m kidding, Woody. I love ya.
And I’d like to recommend Jackass: The Movie. It inspired the word “Cut!”
Ha, ha, ha.
I saw the Secretary and I tell ya, if I was her boss, I’d be C.E.O. of Micro-Hard!
I kid, I kid.
Heh? What? What do you mean I’m dead? I can’t be dead — Oh. Oh, I am dead. Shit. That sucks.
Take my life. Please.
Ha, ha, what? Nothing?