Ah, little lad, you're staring at my fingers. Would you like me to tell you the little story of right-hand/left-hand? The story of good and evil?
H-A-T-E! It was with this left hand that old brother Cain struck the blow that laid his brother low.
L-O-V-E! You see these fingers, dear hearts? These fingers has veins that run straight to the soul of man. The right hand, friends, the hand of love. Now watch, and I'll show you the story of life.
Those fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warrin' and a-tuggin', one agin t'other. Now watch 'em! Old brother left hand, left hand he's a-fightin', and it looks like love's a goner. But wait a minute! Hot dog, love's a-winnin'! Yessirree! It's love that's won, and old left hand hate is down for the count!
For Jilli...
This is the most uncomfortable coffin I've ever been in.
Does your dog bite?
No.
t snarl-snap-bite
I thought you said your dog does not bite!
That is not my dog.
Roll, roll, roll in the hay!
Listen, hit the bars, work some parties, and get me transvestites. I need transvestites. All right. Bye.
Why don'tcha kiss er stead of talkin her to death?
Do you have li-sonse for your meen-key?
Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.
I'm not the first guy who fell in love with a girl he met in a restaurant who then turned out to be the daughter of a kidnapped scientist only to lose her to a childhood lover who she'd last seen on a deserted island and who turned out 15 years later to the the leader of the French Underground.
I know, it -- it sounds like some bad movie.
